#abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight. 

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours. 

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this. 

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.  

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.” 

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you. 

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes.  “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath. 

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.” 

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one. 

“The tracking…I knew of it.” 

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

 "Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you. 

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side. 

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed.  "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress."  The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it. 

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier. 

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. 

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her." 

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.  

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.” 

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you.  “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more. 

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?” 

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his. 

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions. 

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play. 

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate. 

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

[promenadewithme]

First of all, I want to thank all of you so much for the follows, likes, comments, reblogs and support in general! I can't believe I hit 50 followers so soon! I know it’s not much, but I actually didn’t expect any at all so I’m so happy!! Thank you ❤️

Now, this is how the celebration is going to work: first you chose a song and a character. Then send it to my requests with your pronoun of choice, along with any other specifications and I'll write you a fic based on the song! You can either send the song or specific quotes as prompts

To find the fics I will write, use the #Anastasia's 50 followers celebration

This event starts today (May 20th) and ends June 10th

Support Me on Ko-Fi - if you’re feeling generous 💕

Songs:

Fluff (Romantic)

Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

London Boy - Taylor Swift

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Lover - Taylor Swift

King of My Heart - Taylor Swift

Willow - Taylor Swift

Crazier - Taylor Swift

New Year’s Day - Taylor Swift

Daylight - Taylor Swift

Jump Then Fall - Taylor Swift

How You Get The Girl - Taylor Swift

You Are In Love - Taylor Swift

It’s Nice To Have A Friend - Taylor Swift

Today Was A Fairytale - Taylor Swift

State Of Grace - Taylor Swift

Mine - Taylor Swift

Delicate - Taylor Swift

Say You Won't Let Go - James Arthur

Naked - James Arthur

Rewrite The Stars - James Arthur + Anne-Marie

I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz

I'm Yours - Jason Mraz

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran

Tenerife Sea - Ed Sheeran

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Afterglow - Ed Sheeran

Lego House - Ed Sheeran

Dive - Ed Sheeran

Galway Girl - Ed Sheeran

Everything Has Changed - Ed Sheeran + Taylor Swift

I Was Made For Loving You - Tori Kelly + Ed Sheeran

Make You Feel My Love -Adele

One Call Away - Charlie Puth

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Just The Way You Are - Bruno Mars

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Little Things - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Can't Help Falling In Love - Elvis Presley

Andante, Andante - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

All Of Me - John Legend

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

Snowman - Sia

A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Arms - Christina Perri

Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

Halo - Beyoncé

The Only Exception - Paramore

Dandelions - Ruth B

Someone To You - BANNERS

Would You Be So Kind - Dodie

Someone You Like - The Girl and The Dreamcatcher

If I Could Tell Her - Ben Platt 

Absolutely Smitten - Dodie

How Long Will I Love - Ellie Goulding

Angst (Romantic)

Good 4 u - Olivia Rodrigo

Drivers License - Olivia Rodrigo

Deja Vu - Olivia Rodrigo

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Traitor - Olivia Rodrigo

Enough For You - Olivia Rodrigo

1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo

Happier - Olivia Rodrigo

Jealousy, Jealousy- Olivia Rodrigo

Favourite Crime - Olivia Rodrigo

Hope Ur Ok - Olivia Rodrigo

Betty - Taylor Swift

Exile - Taylor Swift

Teardrops On My Guitar - Taylor Swift

Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Tolerate It - Taylor Swift

You’re Not Sorry - Taylor Swift

Should’ve Said No - Taylor Swift

White Horse - Taylor Swift

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

My Tears Ricochet - Taylor Swift

Back to December - Taylor Swift

Breathe - Taylor Swift

The 1 - Taylor Swift

All Too Well - Taylor Swift

Invisible String - Taylor Swift

Evermore - Taylor Swift

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez

When I Was Your Man -Bruno Mars

Someone Like You - Adele

Hello - Adele

All I Ask - Adele

Let Her Go - Passenger

Say Something - A Great Big World

Stay With Me - Sam Smith

California King Bed - Rihanna

Take a Bow - Rihanna

Broken Hearted Girl - Beyoncé

Tonight I Wanna Cry - Keith Urban

The Winner Takes It All - ABBA

SOS - ABBA

One Of Us - ABBA

Half a Heart - One Direction

Yesterday - The Beatles

If The World Was Ending - Julia Michaels

Colors - Halsey

Happier - Ed Sheeran

One Last Time - Ariana Grande

Why’d You Only Call Me When You High - Artic Monkeys

Play Date - Melanie Martinez

Just a Friend to You - Meghan Trainor

All I Want - Kodaline

Love You From A Distance - Ashley Kutcher

Potential Breakup Song - Aly & AJ

I Don’t Wanna See You With Her - Maria Mena

Let Her Go - Passenger

All My Tears - Ane Brun

Always On My Mind - Elvis Presley

Someone to you - Lewis Capaldi 

Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

Others

Sit Still, Look Pretty - Daya

How To Be A Heartbreaker - MARINA

No Body, No Crime - Taylor Swift

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Blank Space - Taylor Swift

You Need To Calm Down - Taylor Swift

Getaway Car -Taylor Swift

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

Bad Blood - Taylor Swift

The Man - Taylor Swift

22 - Taylor Swift

Dorothea - Taylor Swift

Marjorie - Taylor Swift

The Best Day - Taylor Swift

Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things - Taylor Swift

The Lakes - Taylor Swift

The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift

Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

When I Kissed The Teacher - ABBA

I Have A Dream - ABBA

I've Been Waiting For You - ABBA

You'll Be In My Heart - Phil Collins

Titanium - David Guetta (feat. Sia)

F**ckin' Perfect - P!nk

New Rules - Dua Lipa

IDGAF - Dua Lipa

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

You Should See Me in A Crown - Billie Eilish

COPYCAT - Billie Eilish

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Stand By You - Rachel Platten

Firework - Katy Perry

Because You Loved Me - Céline Dion

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa + Charlie Puth

NO - Meghan Trainor

Skyfall - Adele

Gasoline - Halsey

Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran

Save Myself - Ed Sheeran

Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheeran

Small Bump - Ed Sheeran

Growing Up - Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, Ed Sheeran

7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

Rare - Selena Gomez

Who Says - Selena Gomez

I Turn To You - Christina Aguilera

Till There Was You - The Beatles

Sweetest Devotion - Adele

ps: sorry, I'm a Swiftie and a Sheerio <3

Characters

Character x fem! or GN! reader (ROMANTIC)

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Helion, Tarquin, kallias and Tamlin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton and Simon Basset.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, The Darkling, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan and David.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian Havilliard and Chaol Westfall.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Neville, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Young Sirius, Young James and Young Remus.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.

MARVEL: Steve, Bucky, Sam, Pietro, Loki, Thor, Peter Parker, Ned, Tony, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Scott Lang, James Rhodes, Peter Quill and Stephen Strange.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Peeta, Gale and Finnick.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Derek Shepherd, Andrew DeLuca, Alex Karev, Jackson Avery, Mark Sloan, George O'Malley, Link, Koracick and Ben Warren.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Derek, Isaac, Liam and Jackson.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Stefan, Matt, Klaus, Elijah and Kai.

NARNIA: Peter, Edmund and Caspian.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Obi Wan, Kylo, Han, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin.

Character x platonic!/sis!/bro!/enemy!/daughter!/son!/mentor!/or anything else platonic Reader

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Feure, Nesta, Elain, Mor, Amren, Nyx, Lucien, Tarquin, Helion, Kallias, Tamlin, Ianthe, Suriel and Bone Carver.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, Darkling, David, Alina, Bahgra, Zoya, Tamar, Tolya, Apparat, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Inej, Tantee Heleen and Pekka Rollins.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian, Chaol and Aelin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony, Benedict, Colin; Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, Hyacinth, Lady Violet, Simon, Lady Danbury, Penelope, Lady Portia Featherington, Marina, Sienna, Genevieve, Cressida and Queen Charlotte.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Cho, Seamus, Fleur, Pansy, Myrtle, Sirius (old or young), James (old or young), Remus (old or young), Lily (old or young), Molly, Arthur, Bill, Percy, Charlie, Xenophilus Lovegood, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Moody, Flitwick, Umbridge, Bellatrix, Voldemort, Lucius, Narcissa, Peter Pettigrew, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Dobby and Nearly Headless Nick.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy, Georgiana Darcy, Mr Bingley, Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet, Jane Bennet, Mary Bennet, Lydia Bennet, Catherine Bennet, Charlotte Lucas, Wickam, Mr Collins, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet.

MARVEL: Steve, Peggy, Sharon, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Monica Rambeau, Pietro, Wanda, Agatha Harkness, Loki, Frigga, Odin, Hela, Thor, Heimdall, Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Valkyrie, Peter Parker, Ned, MJ, Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Howard, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Shuri, Scott, Hope, Hank, Cassie, James Rhodes, Peter Quill, Gamora, Mantis, Nebula, Groot, Rocket, Drax, Stephen Strange, Wong, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, Thanos, Ancient One, Red Skull, Ultron, John Walker and Zemo.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Katniss, Peeta, Gale, Finnick, Haymitch, Rue, President Snow, Primrose, Effie, Cinna and Johanna.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Meredith, Derek, Andrew, Alex, Jackson, Mark, Lexie, Cristina, April, Izzie, George, Callie, Owen, Addison, Arizona, Miranda, Amelia, Link, Burke, Teddy, Maggie, Richard, Carina, Ben Warren, Megan Hunt, Ellis Grey, Catherine Avery and Tom Koracick.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Malia, Lydia, Allison, Derek, Isaac, Liam, Jackson, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Sheriff Stilinski, Kira, Melissa McCall and Noshiko Yukimura.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Elena, Katherine, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie, Jenna, Klaus, Elijah, Rebeka, Sheriff Forbes, Kai and Lexi.

NARNIA: Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Caspian and Aslan.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Padme, Yoda, Jarjar, Obi Wan, Kylo, Rey, Han, Leia, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin and Grogu.

No pressure tags: @venuswritesfanfic @for-bebbanburg @maggiescarborough @multifandomfix @sweetnspicysimp @lazypeachsoul @magravenwrites

#Anastasia's 50 followers celebration #bridgerton x reader #my writing #greys anatomy x reader #marvel x reader #acotar x reader #throne of glass x reader #teen wolf x reader #tvd x reader #thg x reader #pride and prejudice x reader #hp fanfic #harry potter x reader #grishaverse x reader #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone x reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Azriel

Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.

Warning: reader thirsting for Az and fluff for my batboy ♥

A/N: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea! Though I did a poll and Az won, I couldn't help myself and also write a version for Cas (you can read it here) as a huge thank you for following and reading my stuff. I just reached 1K followers ♥

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

The first moment you saw Azriel, you were instantly drawn to him. 

His sun kissed skin radiated warmth. The hazel depths of his eyes hinted at wisdom earned through ages. His dark hair, a cascade of silken strands, framed a face sculpted to perfection. The Illyrian leathers he wore were a gift from the gods themselves as they only highlighted the well-defined muscles that lay beneath…

And his wings? Gods, those wings of his. They were massive yet delicate and iridescent. The way they always unfurled with such grace had your own wings fluttering in response.

But it wasn’t just the arresting beauty that surpassed all males you’ve encountered that drew you in. It was the impeccable way he carried himself. The mastery he exuded in combat, the patience he had while training you because if you’re going to be honest, you’re sure you pushed him past his limits. Yet, no matter how tough he was on you during training, Azriel was always kind to you outside of training grounds.

It didn’t take you long to fall for him and it didn’t matter how much you unleashed your inner turmoil onto the punching bag. Nothing could shake the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach every time your mind drifted to him. It’s like there were a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Sweat glistens on your forehead and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, too lost in your thoughts to pay mind to the silent spectator that had arrived minutes ago…until he finally steps out from the shadows and speaks.

“I’d hate to be the one on your mind right now.”

A misplaced punch lands awkwardly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your hand. “Azriel,” you breathe, your cheeks flushing as you cradle your hand close to your chest. If only he knew…

“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hazel eyes flashing with concern. He swiftly closes the distance between and gently takes your injured hand into his, inspecting it with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You could never scare me.”

Azriel raises an eyebrow, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Is that so?” He replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I may be going too soft on you then”

“Soft?” You exhale in an incredulous manner, remembering the way your last training session with Azriel had ended. 

He had taunted you and your Illyrian blood had heated at the challenge in his words, allowing him to coax you into combating him. Of course, you were no match for him. You had begun training only a year ago, thanks to Emerie’s invitation. Azriel had centuries on you. Your muscles were still aching from the aftermath.

Azriel chuckles. “Come,” he says, guiding you back into the house. His hand holds onto your wrist lightly, being careful so as not to hurt your injured hand further. “Let’s get you patched up.”

**

As Azriel carefully attends to your hand, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on him. His features are tense with concentration and concern, unbothered by the dark fringe that falls slightly over his eyes. Your uninjured hand is itching to run through those dark strands and brush his hair back for him.

You swear your heart skips a beat when Azriel lifts his gaze, catching your brazen staring. A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, missing the subtle, self-satisfied smile that graces Azriel's lips.

The sudden intrusion of Nesta breaks the spell, her figure leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, an amused twinkle in her gaze. While you were oblivious to Azriel's reaction, Nesta, caught the soft smile he allowed himself.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Both of you turn your heads to find Nesta. There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes flicker between you and Azriel.

“Uh, no. Not at all,” you stammer, attempting to mask your embarrassment. “Just a little injury, that’s all.”

“Nothing to worry yourself over, Nesta,” Azriel chimes in, lowering his gaze to secure the bandage wrapped around your hand. “All done.”

“Thanks, Azriel.”

Azriel rises to his feet, and the shadows that dance around his shoulders seem to buzz with excitement over the soft way you had said his name. He pats your thigh, suppressing his smile as he stands.

Nesta's smirk transforms into a sly grin, her keen eyes not missing the way Azriel keeps his gaze averted from you to save you from further embarrassment. It doesn’t matter, anyway. His shadows are happy to inform him of the mortified look you send Nesta’s way followed by the way you silently mouth “stop” at her. 

"Well, that’s great news,” Nesta replies, grasping your uninjured hand and pulling you to your feet. “Thank you for taking care of her, Az. Now, if you don’t mind, y/n here is late to girl’s night.”

As Nesta ushers you out, Azriel watches with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his hazel eyes. Unbeknownst to you, the unexpected emotions that had taken residence in your heart were mirrored in Azriel’s.

**

Under the soft glow of fairy lights, you sit cross-legged on the plush rug, facing Nesta while Emerie and Gwyn sit on either side of you. An array of snacks, provided by the sentient house, sits in the middle of the circle you and your friends formed. And of course, it wouldn’t be a girl’s night without the age-old game of truth or dare.

“Your turn,” Emerie grins at you, exchanging a knowing look with the other two females. “Truth or dare?”

Given the mischievous glint in Nesta’s eyes, it was an obvious choice for you. Truth would be the safer option. Emerie’s grin falters, disappointed by your choice.

However, Gwyn sees an opportunity. She wraps her blanket tighter around herself, shifting in her spot eagerly. She leans forward to grab a chocolate covered strawberry before nonchalantly asking: “Do you like Azriel?”

Nesta scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. Like we even have to ask.”

“True,” Gwyn giggles. “But I want to hear her say it.”

Heat rises to your cheeks for the third time tonight, creating a persistent warmth that makes you wonder if you might give yourself a fever. Your friends collectively hold their breaths in anticipation. Nesta’s gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.

“Yes.”

The room erupts into squeals and teasing remarks, and your eyes widen, urging them to hush, terrified that Azriel, who is upstairs, might hear. It’s a futile attempt as their cheers only grow louder, making you bury your face in her hands.

“He likes you too.”

Your peak out from beneath your fingers. “What makes you say that?”

Nesta laughs in response but Emerie and Gywn are quick to tease you even further.  Gywn assumes the role of Azriel while Emerie assumes the role of you as they exchange glances and lingering touches. The two females jump to their feet and wooden swords appear in front of them. You look up with a glare directed at the sentient house.

With a swift flick of her wrist, Gwyn uses her wooden sword to knock Emerie’s out of her hand. “Again,” Gwyn nearly growls as she tries to mimic Azriel’s deep voice.

“I can’t,” Emerie replies, feigning shyness.

“I don’t sound like that!” You cry out in disbelief, turning to Nesta. “I don’t sound like that, right?”

Nesta shrugs her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth at the scene before her. Emerie and Gwyn ignore your protests, continuing to pretend to be you and Azriel.

“Oh, Azriel, my love,” Emerie swoons, the back of her hand flying to her forehead while her other hand hangs in the air. “I think I sprained my wrist.”

Gwyn gasps dramatically, diving in to catch Emerie before she could fall back against the fortress of pillows behind her. “No, not my sweet y/n, who I’m absolutely smitten with” Gwyn coos, bringing Emerie’s “injured” hand to her lips and kissing it.

Then, Gwyn and Emerie absolutely lose it, the two females falling onto the fortress of pillows as laughter consumes them, unfazed by the glare you’re now directing to them. Nesta stifles her own laughter, turning her attention back to you.

“He definitely likes you,” she repeats, her words awakening the butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if she can hear them fluttering too. “But he won’t make the first move. You’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“Absolutely not!”

 Nesta grins at you. “We’ll see about that.”

“Whatever,” you huff out. “It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”

The night wears on, filled with more laughter, more shared secrets, and the occasional embarrassing dare. You got your friends back by daring them to have multiple spoonfuls of ice cream and tomato sauce. The house keeps you well supplied with snacks and your glasses of wine never go empty.

When it’s your turn again, you hesitate for a moment. You had thought “truth” had been the safer option but now, you know there is no safe option.

This time, you decide to be brave.

“Dare.”

"Fucking finally," Emerie grins, looking at Nesta while Gwyn smiles at you. Their plan is unfolding seamlessly...

“We dare you to kiss Azriel tomorrow after training.”

Your eyes widen in panic. “What? No way!”

Nesta, seemingly unfazed, inspects her nails with feigned boredom. "Coward," she mutters under her breath.

Her words, though hushed, ignite something deep within you. Your Illyrian blood stirs, the challenge resonating in your veins. Your eyes narrow, fixing on Nesta. "What did you say?"

Nesta meets your gaze as she repeats herself. Louder, this time. “Coward.”

The room falls into a hushed silence as your friends await your response. You bite your lip, contemplating the audacious dare. It was not in your nature to back down from a challenge.

After what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep exhale.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

**

You didn’t sleep at all last night but as Azriel circles around you, his eyes holding a glint of challenge, you are wide awake. Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watch from the benches facing the sparring grounds while Cassian watches from a closer distance, keenly assessing your every move. Too caught up in your feelings over Azriel, you had failed to realize that this morning’s training session was an evaluation of the skills you had been working on over the past couple of months.

To say you're nervous was an understatement because not only did you have to prove yourself as the aspiring Valkyrie you’d like to become, you also had to prove to Nesta that you were not a coward. Taking a deep breath, your grip tightens on your sword.

Azriel, with his wings casting shadows on the ground, moves with grace. Each movement is precise and deliberate as your swords meet in a flurry of strikes, the sound of steel ringing in the air. Though you struggle, you do your best to keep up and hold your ground, determination burning bright.

Sweat begins to cling to your skin and your envious of the way Azriel hasn’t even broken a sweat himself. With every strike of his and every parry of yours, he continues to push you, his strikes growing harsher and stronger. You literally blink and in that swift second, Azriel knocks your sword out of your grip. A hiss escapes you and you swear your hear Gwyn and Emerie snicker from the sidelines as they find this situation all too familiar.

With a sweep of his leg, you lose your balance and find yourself falling onto one of the training mats. Azriel’s lips twitch upwards as he points his sword toward you. “Do you yield?”

You are weaponless and at his mercy but your stubbornness continues to burn bright. “No.”

In a sudden burst of energy, you land a kick on him, knocking his sword out of his grip just as he did to yours. The bold move leaves him momentarily stunned, his shadows coiling back in surprise. You take full advantage of his distraction, hooking your other leg behind his knees and bringing him down to the mat with you.

Azriel can only blink up at you as you straddle him, eyes widening when he feels a dagger–his dagger–pressed against his throat. How did you–

He’s unable to finish his thought as you shift above him and swallows thickly at the sensation of your body on top of his. The way your breathing is shallow and uneven and the way he can feel the warmth radiating off your body–

“You will.”

Your words have his attention drifting back to you. A radiant smile breaks across your face and his own lips curl upwards, hazel eyes softening as they stare into yours. “I yield,” he murmurs, ever so quietly, you wonder if you imagined it.

Your gaze drifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. And then the next moment, you’re kissing him. Softly and hesitantly, at first, but when Azriel responds, your heart fills with warmth. Your lips move against his with eager urgency.

Truthteller falls from your grasp and you bring your hand to grasp at the back of his neck instead, pulling him even closer. His hands find their place at your waist to keep you in place but then screams and squeals are piercing through the air. You’re immediately pulling away and jumping to your feet, absolutely flustered because in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten all about the audience you had.

You glance down at Azriel, desperately seeking a sign, but his expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. He looks nearly petrified. Your heart races and you begin to wonder if perhaps, you are a coward because all you want to do is run.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Doubts claw at the edges of your courage. What if Nesta was wrong? What if Azriel didn't like you? And you've just made a fool of yourself in front of him–your teacher– and your friends. 

Turning around, your eyes meet with the delightfully entertained audience. Gwyn and Emerie, caught up in the drama, cling to each other with excitement and unrestrained giggles. Nesta stands with the same smirk she gave you the night before though there’s a flicker of surprise in her blue-grey eyes. She hadn't expected you to follow through with the dare.

Meanwhile, Cassian’s gaze is fixed on the body behind you and he throws his head back in laughter. Ignoring the whispers and amused glances from those around you, you hastily make your exit, blind to the way you left Azriel a blushing fool.

Cassian approaches his friend, who remains rooted to his spot on the floor. Azriel is still processing the whirlwind of emotions you've stirred within him. There’s a teasing grin on Cassian’s lips. “Are you okay there, Az? You look a little–”

Azriel snaps out of the trance you've cast upon him to glare up at his friend. “Fuck off.”

He then jumps to his feet, dusting himself off and ignoring the curious glances of the females nearby. Determination fills his eyes as his head turns toward the direction you ran off to. He fears you have misinterpreted his initial shock and he can’t let this moment slip away. 

He needs to feel your soft lips against his again and more importantly, he needs to tell you that he feels the same way.

a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this one! Cas's version is already up!

tagging: @hellodarling1357, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

I've Been Waiting For You | Bonus

Azriel x Reader bonus scenes based off of this one shot. These are some scenes/ideas that didn’t make it to the final cut.

warnings: just some suggestiveness with the last one (but not really, it's just the morning after you and Az spend the night together but the scene itself is just fluff.) all of these scenes are purely fluff 🤧

Thank you so much for all the love you showed this imagine! I'm so happy you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing ♡ I tried to keep all of this roughly in chronological order.

Azriel groveling after snapping at you.

Azriel found himself in a situation that required more than just words to apologize to you, especially with the look of hurt he had seen in your eyes. Determined to make amends, he decided to enlist Elain's help, knowing that you had a sweet tooth and that snickerdoodles were among your favorite treats. Elain was happy to help, agreeing to bake them for you.

Azriel carefully left the freshly baked cookies in the kitchen, accompanied by a note expressing the sincerity of his remorse.

**

However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Cassian stumbled upon the kitchen with Nyx in his arms. "Cas-see-an," Cassian kept repeating to Nyx, enunciating his name so slowly in an effort to get the infant to repeat it.

Nyx babbled in response as Cassian gently set him down on the counter. He kept a hand on the baby while his other reached for a mug, missing the way Nyx's curious gaze landed on the colorful note resting atop delicious cookies.

His tiny hands grasp at the note, squeezing it in his hand before it it falls from his grip. Nyx watches as the note falls to the floor, landing under the cabinets. He lets out a small whine.

"Are you hungry?" Cassian asks, turning back to his sweet nephew and follows Nyx's gaze.

"Oh!" Cassian exclaims with a gleeful grin when he spots the plate of cookies. "Don't tell your mother."

Cassian quickly uncovers the plate, thanking the Cauldron for gifting him with a wonderful sister in law that loves to bake. He offers a cookie to Nyx while he takes a couple for himself.

**

Sensing your presence nearby, Azriel dispatches his shadows to investigate the kitchen. They quickly report back to him with the unfortunate news that the cookies had been devoured. He's then rushing into the kitchen himself.

"Morning, Cassian," he hears you say and then with a much lighter and excited tone, "Good morning, Nyx! Whatcha got there?"

"Morning y/n," Cassian greets back, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

Azriel's eyes narrow, gaze flickering between the empty plate and the crumbs on both Cassian's shirts and Nyx's face.

"Oh! Good morning, Az."

At the mere sound of his name, he notices the subtle tension in your body. Before Azriel can utter a word, you swiftly conjure up an excuse and make a hasty exit from the kitchen. As Azriel turns his gaze to Cassian and Nyx, he finds himself unable to muster any anger.

A sigh escapes him. His first effort to make amends had not gone as planned.

**

Undeterred, Azriel decides to try a different approach for his next apology. This time, he chose to give you flowers, intending to leave it somewhere for you to find. However, in his haste or maybe his distraction, he accidentally placed the flowers in a spot where someone else stumbled upon it. Amren, of all people.

"What are these, boy?" She asks sharply, eyeing the colorful arrangement warily as her hands wrap around the vase.

"Flowers."

"I know they're flowers."

"They weren't for you."

"Oh, thank the gods," Amren says in what sounds like relief.

And just as Azriel is about to take them back, his shadows sense you approaching. The Cauldron must not favor him, he thinks. He hears the sudden pause in your step as your gaze lands on him and catches the way your fingers tighten against the book in your hand. He catches a glimpse of Seers in Prythian etched across the cover.

Azriel knows you want to turn around but given it'd be absolutely obvious that you're avoiding him if you did, you find yourself frozen. When he meets your gaze, you turn your head, focusing your direction on Amren instead.

"Nice flowers, Amren."

"Thank you," Amren smirks, silver eyes flashing between you and Azriel. "Aren't they lovely?"

"Lovely as you!" You reply with a smile and then leave.

Once again, Azriel finds himself sighing deeply at another failed attempt in apologizing to you.

"Do better, boy."

"I know."

**

Azriel's third attempt in making amends is cornering you so he can finally talk to you. He sits in the living room, perched on the couch that directly faces the door to Rhysand's office, with a book about the history of seers similar to the one he had seen in your hands the other day. You're currently inside with Elain as you both debrief Rhysand and Feyre on your progress with Elain's powers.

Elain is the first to step out, eyes widening in surprise. "Azriel," she greets with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading," he replies simply, gesturing toward the book in his hands.

"About seers...?"

"Just thought I could help..."

Elain's eyes narrow at him and Azriel finds himself sinking further into the couch. Though he's apologizing because he genuinely feels remorse and wants to make things right, he can't escape the fact that Elain had chastised him for not doing so already days ago.

"You haven't apologized yet, have you?"

"I'm trying."

Elain's gaze softens and she lets out a small chuckle. "She'll be out in a couple of minutes."

Azriel feels a wave of relief as you step out alone, prompting him to rise to his feet and call your name.

"Hey, Azriel," you greet politely, and his shadows seem to dance with delight at the acknowledgment of his presence. Finally, they whisper eagerly into his ears.

"Can we talk?"

"Oh, um...," Your gaze shifts over his shoulder, seemingly fixed on something that his shadows report as nonexistent. "I think someone else is calling me. Maybe another time? I have to go!"

As you attempt to maneuver around him, Azriel subtly moves with you, blocking your path. "No one called your name," he points out softly, suppressing a smile as your eyebrows furrow. He senses you scrambling for another excuse.

"The future!" you exclaim, your eyes brightening as you tap the corner of your eye. "The future is calling me. I must go."

As you move, Azriel doesn't have it in himself to block your path again. He doesn't even have it in himself to be upset. Not when he finds your excuse amusing and your presence itself endearing.

His shadows, however, aren't as forgiving. They whisper harshly into his ears, growing impatient with each failed attempt. "Next time," he promises them quietly.

(And almost two weeks after him snapping at you, he finally succeeds in asking for your forgiveness during his fourth attempt when he brings your dinner to you in the library.)

Elain gets a vision, where she finds out you and Azriel are mates.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," you instruct her softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration and as her head grows quiet, the world around her seems to awaken. She can feel the power coursing through her veins as she says, “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good. Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow as she struggles to delve deeper into her power. She finds herself stuck amidst the wild sea of the unknown. Wave after wave crashes down on her, knocking her down before she could even get back up.

“Here, take my hands,” she hears you say and then she feels your hands reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told, bringing herself back to that sea of unknown in her mind. This time, she's not alone and she's able to rise from the water. You're there with her, the two of you standing knee deep in the waters that are beginning to calm in your presence. The world stills around you two and Elain feels her body relax as she allows you to guide her to the center.

And suddenly, the dark sky around her begins to brighten with visions, dazzling her like the stars in your eyes do. She finds herself overwhelmed by the all the flashes and voices. She takes deep, steadying breaths like you always do and the visions begin to slow, developing before in a way she can discern.

Her eyes widen she realizes they're all of you.

In the first vision, you're sat at the breakfast table, making small conversation with Cassian and Nesta as you bite into your pancake. The next couple of visions are mundane, just you going about your daily routine.

Then, you're seated at one of the tables at the garden, basking in the sun while Elain gardens a couple of feet away.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you answer her with a grin. "Called him his Fox boy..."

And Elain wants to linger in this vision longer, itching to know more. But as quickly as it flashed before her eyes, it's fading away and a new vision is brought forth.

Now, she stands within a resplendent ballroom nestled within the House of Wind. Fae lights adorn the ceiling, casting a celestial glow that lets her know its Starfall. Amidst the enchanting scene, you and Azriel gracefully twirl on the dance floor. Elain, intrigued, takes a step forward, captivated by the mesmerizing dance unfolding before her.

“You should stay.”

“Why?”

She watches as a wistful expression takes over your features and she has to stop herself from reaching out for you. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of Azriel's hold before the next song starts, missing the way Azriel frowns at the loss of your warmth.

“There’s no one here for me.”

There's a deep, haunting sadness to the laughter that follows your words. Elain also finds herself frowning. She didn't know you were feeling this way, or rather, going to feel this way.

Elain detects a subtle twitch in Azriel's hand from the periphery of her vision, as if he longs to reach out to you but is held back by fear. Redirecting her focus to Azriel, she observes the tender and affectionate gaze he bestows upon you, while you remain unaware, fixated on the ground. This sight tugs at Elain's heart.

It's surprising because she thought she would feel hurt by it. But she doesn't. Instead, empathy floods her, accompanied by a silent wish that you would lift your gaze and witness the profound way Azriel looks at you in this very moment.

Please, she wants to scream but even if she opens her mouth, she knows no sound will come out. Please look up!

“I’m right here.” 

Elain exhales with relief as you finally meet Azriel's gaze, but the moment has passed. Azriel's expression transforms into one more guarded, his eyes now concealing what was once openly displayed. A subtle frown settles on your lips, and Elain witnesses a fleeting trace of hurt that crosses Azriel's face. Whatever you sought in that exchange, it appears you did not find it.

The scene before her blurs, shifting into another. Elain is now standing at the foyer of the river house, watching as you make your way down the steps. Suddenly, the door slams open and Azriel's chest is rising and falling as if he's been running. His eyes are wide and frantic, relaxing only when he spots you.

"It's you. All this time. It's been you."

“You know?”

"You're my mate."

A warm smile graces Azriel's lips as his gaze meets yours, and the tender expression Elain previously observed during the Starfall vision reappears on his face. She feels her heart melt at the sight because this time, you don't miss the way he's looking at you.

And just as she's about to dive into another vision into your future, she finds your connection abruptly broken. The warmth of your hands leave hers and you disappear from the depths of her mind. The sky around her darkens and though the waves begin to lap at her again, they remain calm and soothing.

"Stop!"

"I'm not hurting her!"

Elain blinks her eyes open and widen at the sight before her. You wear a pained expression on your face and there's blood trickling down your nose. Guilt courses through her, making her skin pale. She didn't know she was hurting you. Oh gods, if she knew, she wouldn't have lingered in the visions of your future. She didn't even know she could do so and judging by the look on your face, you're completely unaware of her accidental intrusion. Maybe, it's best if she didn't tell you...

"Are you okay?"

Elain doesn't have time to dwell on it as Azriel is urging her to go grab a towel while he guides you forward with a worried expression. When she returns with the towel in hand, she finds her apology dying at her throat, reluctant to disrupt the tender moment between you and Azriel.

"Like what?" She hears Azriel asked in an amused manner.

"Don't make me answer that."

At that moment, your gaze locks onto hers, and Elain assumes an air of nonchalance as she finally approaches the two of you with the towel in hand. Azriel takes it from her, carefully wiping at the blood on your face, and as Elain silently watches, she can't believe how she didn't see it before.

You and Azriel are mates and she feels nothing but pure joy for you both. She only wishes she had known sooner.

Elain confesses to you about Lucien and then asks you about Azriel.

The vibrant streets of Velaris hum with excitement as you and Elain approach one of the bustling markets. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you find yourself marveling at the enduring beauty of the city. You inhale, taking delight in the sweet blend of fresh flowers.

There's a certain lightness to Elain's steps, more so than usual today. Catching your gaze, she turns to you with a soft smile, intertwining her arm with yours and drawing you closer.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Your eyes light up involuntarily, driven by your insatiable curiosity for gossip. "Of course," you reply and though this is a secret you promise to keep, it doesn't dim your desire to hear it.

"I wrote to Lucien. I think I'm ready to give him a chance."

You stop, halting her in the process as well. A frown creases your brow as you look at her. "Are you sure?"

"I used to think mating bonds were precious," you speak again, mind drifting to Azriel briefly, before redirecting your focus back to Elain. "But I've come to realize there's an even greater beauty in choice."

"I want to give him a chance," she reassures you. "It's my choice."

"Okay then," you reply and the two of you resume in your walk toward the markets. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

Elain's gaze lingers on you, a fleeting trace of guilt flickering in her eyes so briefly that you wonder if you imagined it. Curiosity takes hold as she ventures, "What about your own happiness? Is there anyone special you fancy here?"

"I like you," you smile, completely missing the point. "I like Feyre, I like Nyx, I like--"

"No," Elain giggles beside you. "Anyone you like, like?"

"Maybe a certain somebody...," she hints, her voice trailing off and when you stare blankly at her, she adds, "Like maybe Azriel?"

At the mere mention of his name, your body tenses. You're silently hoping Elain doesn't pick up on it, but given she still has her arm wrapped around yours, you're sure she felt it. Still, you feign nonchalance.

“What about Azriel?”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s beautiful, yeah.”

"That's not what I asked," Elain laughs, wearing a knowing grin as if she's already privy to your response.

Your heart skips a beat, prompting an abrupt halt once again. At this rate, you won't reach the stall that sells your favorite pastries in time.

"The other day," you start, and she instantly understands the reference to the day she accidentally glimpsed into your future. "Did you see anything?"

"No," she responds a bit too hastily. "Did you?"

"No," you say with a shake of your head and that dull ache from that day returns. "All I saw was a dark void."

Elain asks what the Suriel had to say about Lucien.

Nestled on one of the lounge chairs in the garden, you close your eyes as you bask in the sun. Elain, rests a couple of feet away on the soft grass, as she tends to the gardens.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you reply, opening your eyes. Your lips curve into a grin as you remember all the late nights you spent talking about said Autumn male. As emissary to the Spring Court, who often got sent on a lot of missions, the Suriel had a lot to say about him.

"Called him his fox boy...What are you itching to know?

Turning your head toward Elain, you catch the way she blushes. "I don't know," she admits sheepishly. "I was just curious."

"Did you know he told Amarantha to go back to the shit-show she'd crawl out of?" Elain's lips begin to twitch upwards, but your next words prevent the smile from fully forming. "It cost him his eye, unfortunately. "

"Lucien is good male," you speak again, swiftly shifting the topic to something lighter. "He has friends everywhere, in every court. He's the type to do anything for those he holds dear. From what I've heard, he's a pretty generous lover and given he's from Autumn Court, gods are you in for a treat. One night, the Suriel told me that he took a female to--"

"That's okay!" Elain cuts you in sharply, making you laugh.

"Autumn males have fire in their blood and I heard they fuck like it too."

"Feyre!" Elain gasps with wide eyes, her face growing as pink as the roses she just planted.

You're turning to face Feyre with a delighted smirk. "So you know too!"

Elain stands up, brushing her hands on the dress, indifferent to the dirt staining the fabric.

"Where are you going? We were just about to get to the good part." You muse.

"I'm actually going to go see him," Elain admits and before you can any anything, she adds, "I think I'll just ask him what I want to know myself."

You respond with a shrug of your shoulders and wish her good luck. "Have fun!" Feyre calls after her.

After Elain disappears from view, Feyre gracefully settles into the lounge chair next to you. Her blue eyes carefully assess you for a moment. "What else do you know about him?"

You meet her gaze, detecting an unspoken knowledge. "What else do you know?"

You feel her presence asking for entrance in your mind and you let her in, smiling when all she mentally utters is one word. A name, actually. Helion.

His father, you reply back with an all-knowing gleam in your eye. Did you know the Lady of Autumn and him are mates?

Feyre's eyes widen, and she releases a gasp. There's more isn't, there? She speaks into your mind.

Of course there is, you reply back. With a graceful wave of her hand, a complete tea set materializes along with an array of snacks upon the iron table between you.

I sense we'll be here for awhile, she muses to you, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.

You chuckle as you start to sweeten one of the steaming cups of tea to your liking. Your attention shifts to the untouched third set on the table, and a dull ache settles in your chest as you envision the Suriel, absent yet somehow still present at the table.

As you bring your tea cup to your lips, you proceed to indulge Feyre with every bit of knowledge and gossip you possess about Helion's affair with the Lady of Autumn through your mind.

You don't realize it then, but this day, marks the beginning of what you and Feyre would later name "the Suriel fan club." As time passes on, the club grows more and more, until it becomes a monthly meeting amongst the inner circle.

The morning after you and Azriel spend the night together for the first time.

Your eyelids flutter, like delicate butterflies stirring from slumber, as the muffled whispers of morning dance in the air. You stir and turn to your side, bringing the warmth of your sheets with you. Your movement causes a chain of reaction and your entire body freezes when you feel an unfamiliar weight come to rest over your side.

It's instinct, the way your fingers grasp for the dagger you keep under your pillow. In a moment of panic, you find yourself straddling a body and pressing your dagger against what you initially thought was an intruder.

"y/n, what are you doing?"

Your eyes snap wide open and memories of the night before flood your mind. You find yourself looking down at Azriel. Your mate, Azriel. Despite the dagger pressed at his throat, he smiles lazily up at you.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaim with a heated blush, throwing the dagger onto your nightstand, relieved that you didn't knick him on accident. Judging by the way he's looking at you, you don't think he'd mind anyway.

"I'm not used to sharing my bed," you admit sheepishly, sliding off of him and wishing your bed would just swallow you whole at this point.

Taking advantage of your shift in position, Azriel turns on his side and hovers over your body, hazel eyes gleaming down at you. "You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?"

"Yes and?" You retort, a touch too defensively, eliciting laughter from him that sends an infectious warmth coursing through you. A smile tugs at your own lips. "You were listening when I told you I lived between Prythian's forests and shady Inns for many years, right?"

"Of course, I was. I listen to everything you say," Azriel responds smoothly. "It's just..." His voice trails off, and though your gaze remains fixed on his face, you notice him reaching for something in your peripheral vision.

He flashes you a grin as he pulls out his beloved dagger from under the pillow his head was resting on earlier.

"I sleep with a dagger under my pillow too."

a/n: hope you enjoyed these little scenes! I also wanted to clarify that Elain was starting to think about giving Lucien a chance, even before she found out reader and Az were mates, and it's her finding out about your bond that gives her the confirmation to move forward. She realizes that Azriel won't be alone as he has someone waiting for him (:

tagging: @stormhearty @shinyghosteclipse @justvibbinghere @mybestfriendmademe @aandweaa @loveareum @hellodarling1357

@sassybluebird, @crookedcrusadestranger, @xlosttdreamss, @peachcontour-blog, @shadowandlightt, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @darlingbravebelle, @scooobies, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @toobsessedsstuff, @kaysav608, @idkitsem, @coffeebeforewater, @rinalsworld, @elissanatok, @mischiefmanagers, @paranoidhwks, @meshellexplosionmurder, @skylling, @irismoon, @addieslibrary, @wildrosewhiskey, @aneekapaneeka, @mx13sworld, @vixemi, @strangersreadingcorner, @aristocrrat, @olive-main, @moonyscherry, @stressed-reader, @alysena2, @heartysworld, @aomi-recs, @vardda, @awritingtree, @sillysillygoose444, @spideytingley, @aria-chikage

I tried tagging everyone who had left a comment or reblog with comment/tags, just in case you were curious to read more about Az & seer reader. Idk why not all tags worked out :(

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #ABBA x acotar

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

**

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

**

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

**

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fluff #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ imagines inspired by ABBA songs ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧

rainbow divider is by @cafekitsune! I really just wanted an excuse to make a little disco edit so I made this masterlist. There might be more songs added to this if I get new ideas/inspirations. If you have any suggestions for them or would like to talk about any one of them, feel free to send an ask my way ❤

•¨•.¸¸♪ Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed the Teacher | Cas's version

summary: After weeks of shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

•¨•.¸¸♪ I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: After centuries of waiting, Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate. (this is kinda inspired by Alice & Jasper from twilight.)

•¨•.¸¸♪ Slipping Through My Fingers | Azriel

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go. *this is based on my Az x Witch reader au but can be read as a stand alone.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed The Teacher | Az's version

summary: After crushing on Azriel for weeks, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.

•¨•.¸¸♪ A Man After Midnight | Eris

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

•¨•.¸¸♪ 'Cause Somewhere in The Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary:When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

WIPs

These are in no particular order. I am currently focusing on Rhys's & Cas's next.

•¨•.¸¸♪Sing a New Song, Chiquitita | Rhys's Sis x Azriel (ACOSM AU)

summary: your big brother comforts you after a fight with Azriel.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Can't You Hear Me, S.O.S? | Rhysand

summary: You and Rhysand, your childhood bestfriend, make a promise to each other when teenagers. If you two don't find someone by your 300th birthday, you will marry each other instead. Too bad for Rhysand that you get proposed to just before your birthday.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Honey, Honey | Cassian

summary: Hate. Desire. Anger. You make Cassian feel all of the above but when Azriel assigns him to accompany you on a mission, he finds something even more dangerous. A burning crush on you.

•¨•.¸¸♪ The Winner Takes it All | Lucien

#acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar series #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #lucien x reader #rhysand x you #azriel x you #cassian x you #eris x you #lucien x you #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

i just read i’ve been waiting for you and it gave me all the butterflies and had me kicking my legs and blushing omg absolutely adore that fic

reading this gave me butterflies 🥹💕 thank you!!! I’m glad you liked it. I am a harsh self critic but I actually like the way that one came out! Shoutout to ABBA for the inspo 💜

#thank you for sending this ❤️❤️❤️ #I just saw I’m at 2K notes 🥹 #unreal #asks #anon #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

I think the first thing I read of yours was lay all your love on me and I had just made my account cause I had been looking for fanfic to read and my brain was kind YES this is what I CRAVE

Aww 🥺 I’m fond over that one since best friends to lovers is on the top of my fav tropes and it was also the first fic in my little ABBA series 💜

I’m glad you liked it too! Thank you for sending this 🥰

#asks #anon #❤️❤️❤️ #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

i was debating whether or not to gush about the waiting for you fic but since someone else did it… it is such a masterpiece!!! i was so invested and the scenes you wrote played out in my head throughout the entire day 😭 i couldn’t stop thinking and daydreaming about the scenarios ahhh😭 thank you for feeding us delulu girlies out here🫶🏻 def one of my fav works ever!!!

I hope you all know you’re always welcome to come gush to me and not just about my fics but anything!!! 💕

As a delulu queen myself, I’m always happy to feed fellow delulu girlies 🥰

also thank you so much!!! I was once told that my writing lacked imagery/details (this was when I was first starting to share my writing and they were right! It’s why I pay extra attention to imagery in my writing now) so this means a lot to me! 🥺

#tysm for sending this sweet anon 🥹💜 #like I said earlier that one shot is one of the few I’m proud of #asks #anon #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

😭😭😭😭😭😭 when i kissed the teacher had me SQUEALING AND KICKING MY FEET!!!!! i loved the whole thing, how you described admiring him and the feeling of having a crush, but most importantly, i really loved how you wrote about girls night. as i get older i’m starting to value female friendships more and more, it really is so precious to have that kind of support :’) 💕

writing this one shot made me realize how much I miss having a crush on someone 😩 Female friendships are beautiful and I drew inspo from my friend group ❤️

Thank you so much for reading!! I’m squealing and kicking my feet at this ask 🥺

#❤️❤️❤️ #asks #anon #abba x acotar

[prythianpages]

A Man After Midnight | Eris x Reader

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

warnings: mentions of assault (reader gets touched against her will but nothing explicit or anything that goes beyond that), blood, bruises/abuse/bullying; reader having a panic attack

a/n: This originally was going to head a different direction but I decided to make it like a part three to this instead. You can also read this as a stand alone one-shot. I love ABBA and I knew I had to use this song. One of my favs but you'll find that I say that a lot. You can find the masterlist to my ABBA x ACOTAR series here.

Your eyes light up as you spot Sawyer stepping out from the High Lord’s study. Overridden with excitement, you eagerly fall into step with him, the sheer brightness of your presence outshining the dimly lit surroundings. You pay no mind to the fact that his other brothers, Hunter and Oliver, are not too far behind.

“Good morning, Sawyer! Will you walk with me?” you beam up at him with a smile. It's the kind of sight that would make many fall to their feet–that even Oliver wants to bask in the glow of.

But Sawyer? He doesn’t even spare you a glance, his dark brown eyes fixed ahead as he replies, his tone detached. “I’m doing that right now.”

You can hear his brothers snicker behind you–too close for your liking that it has you quickening your steps. “But I was hoping you’d walk with me in the gardens? Or maybe we can have lunch together? We are to be marri–”

“Our marriage is nothing but a business deal arranged by our fathers.” He cuts you in sharply and you find your resolve faltering.

“Love may not come from our marriage but perhaps, we can be friends?” You offer, hating the desperation that seeps into your tone, as you trail behind Sawyer.

Sawyer stops abruptly, causing you to crash into his chest and stumble backwards. You catch yourself, a hand rubbing at your forehead where you’re sure an imprint of the necklace he wears marks your reddening skin. Your betrothed looks down at you in a way no one has ever before. Ever since your father left, it appeared that so did Sawyer’s patience. It’s as if the male you met when you first arrived was a facade. Pure disgust simmers in his heated gaze and his nose wrinkles as he lets out a scoff, causing you to shrink back.

“Friends? I don’t want to be friends with you. I don’t want to be anything with you. You’re the bane of my existence.”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, and instinctively, you take another step back, as though the physical distance could somehow lessen the impact of his words. It doesn’t. Your lip trembles as a frown threatens to overtake your features. 

“How can you mean that when you barely know me?” you ask, your voice a mere whisper but you know by the way his steps stop, that he catches every word. So you decide to remind him and add: “I didn’t ask for this either.”

Sawyer doesn’t bother to turn around or answer you, simply choosing to keep walking away. Hunter pushes past you aggressively, turning to smirk at your distraught expression as he catches up with Sawyer. It is Oliver who stops you from colliding into the wall. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, steadying you and pulling you close to him.

“Oh, sweet girl, you’re too pretty to cry.”

Oliver’s free hand reaches up to grip your chin, forcing your gaze to him. His lips form a slight pout that contrasts the mischief twinkling in his amber eyes. He leans to lick the single tear trickling down your cheek and you wince. You want to run but his grip on you is strong.  

He then directs your attention forward, where Hunter has Sawyer in a similar hold. “Tell her,” Hunter says, gaze darkening with a thirst to torment. He flashes his teeth as his smirk widens. This is all a fun game to him. “Tell her why you don’t like her.”

Sawyer looks like he would rather die than answer Hunter’s demand. He glares at you as he struggles to free himself from his brother’s grasps but Hunter is much stronger. He realizes that he won’t be free until he says something. Finally, between clenched teeth, Sawyer answers. “She’s not my type.”

Hunter throws his head back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room with a dark and menacing resonance.

“What a shame,” Oliver says, his breath tickling your ear as his hand roams down the length of your neck. You swear your heart misses a beat when his hand stops right over the swell of your chest. His nails dig into your chest at your struggle to free yourself.  “She’s exactly my type.”

Your entire body tenses at the unwanted touch, eyes widening when you feel heat prick at your skin. The smell of burnt fabric reaches your nose and a chill permeates, displacing the warmth as Oliver lifts his flaming hand from you. You rush to cross your arms over your chest, desperate to cover your exposed skin from Hunter’s and Oliver’s hungry gazes.

“Just look at her,” Oliver continues, pushing you forward so harshly it sends you to your knees. His chuckle makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “So pretty, so docile.”

As you blink away tears of humiliation, your eyes remain fixed on Sawyer, pleading almost. He’s determined to look anywhere but you. You curl your arms tighter around yourself and lower your gaze. You don’t want to give the other Vanserras the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You suspect it will only prompt them to torment you further.

“Then have at her. I don’t care.”

Sawyer’s words reach you with a devastating force like the last blow. They pierce through the core of your naive heart and you can’t help the tears that escape and spill onto the floor. Hunter peels his gaze away from you to roll his eyes at his younger brother, releasing him with a rough shove.

“You’re no fun, Sawyer,” he says with a disappointed sigh, his expectation for a different response lingering unfulfilled. Hunter then looks back at you, you can feel his heated gaze, and you curl in further into yourself. “But it looks like you are.”

“What is the meaning of this??”

**

Beron’s cold eyes take in the sight before him, gaze sweeping over your slumped form on the floor. It’s Hunter who moves to speak but at the lift of Beron’s finger, his mouth closes shut. Beron comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t care as there’s other pressing matters to attend to. Such as dealing with your father and ensuring he keeps his end of the agreement. He turns to his oldest, who stands at his side with a perfectly donned mask.

“You deal with whatever this is.”

“Yes, father,” Eris replies with no hesitation and Beron pats him on the shoulder–the same shoulder he left a bruise on the other night.

Eris bites back a wince. He waits until his father is away from sight to take in the situation before him. The torches lining up the halls flare. With a simmering intensity that could rival a raging inferno, Eris turns his attention to the brother closest to him. The searing authority of his gaze has Oliver raising his hands in a gesture of surrender and stepping away from you.

“We were just having a little fun, brother.”

“Fun?” 

Eris releases a disbelieving exhale as he grasps onto Oliver’s shirt. He wants to burn his hand through his brother’s skin until he’s screaming and crying, the same way Oliver had intended to do with you. Because how dare he touch you, hurt you. It’s as if Oliver can hear the crackling roar of the fire burning within his older brother and his eyes widen in fear.

Under the weight of Hunter’s hawk eyes, Eris grudgingly settles on shoving Oliver further away from him. And you.

“If you want to have fun, go to a fucking brothel. This is our home.”

Oliver releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He doesn’t waste another second, happy to leave the hall before his brother can take back his mercy.

"And you," Eris seethes, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he turns to face Hunter next. Eris effortlessly surpasses him in both stature and might, looming over him like a formidable mountain casting its shadow. “Shouldn’t you be making haste to quell the riots in town? Or should I add that to your growing list of incapabilities?”

Hunter's fists clench at his sides, the dance of flames flickering along his skin, but in the presence of Eris, his fire pales in comparison. The fire raging within Eris burns brighter, stronger. A force that demands respect and obedience. Much like their father’s. Without uttering another word, he turns on his heel and leaves.

Stepping forward, Eris finally allows his gaze to fall on you and he feels a violent tug in his chest that threatens to weaken him. The desire to sink to his knees beside you and envelop your trembling form in his arms is an overpowering one, coursing through him like a forbidden current. Yet, the harsh reality holds him back. It’s too dangerous. He cannot act upon the fervent emotions that entwine his heart and it pains him, seeking to destroy him almost.

But he can’t just leave you there. Helpless. On the floor. So he masks his emotions–something he is well accustomed to–and dons a facade of annoyance. With a deft, almost dismissive motion, Eris removes his tailcoat, flinging it carelessly in your direction. The seconds stretch into a languid dance as your eyes, wide with surprise, meet his. You gratefully slip his coat over your smaller form, clutching it tightly to your chest.

There’s a bittersweet ache that lingers within Eris at the unexpected intake of breath you give.

A fleeting flicker of sweet agony passes through his eyes. It vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving you to wonder if it was a mere figment of your imagination. 

"And lastly," Eris starts with a deep sigh, the once-fiery intensity in his eyes dimming as he regards his last remaining brother. The only brother left that harbored some redeemable qualities but now, Eris questioned it.

"Is this any way to treat your fiancé?"

A ripple courses through Sawyer's jawline. “Why do you care?”

"I don't." Eris retorts with a glare. He's skilled at weaving falsehoods, and though this one is way far out from the truth, it slides effortlessly off his tongue like all the other ones. He immediately senses the weight of your gaze pressing into the expense of his back.

"But I do care about the consequences if she runs away. You should too."

Though it pains him, he doesn’t turn back around to you. He looks at Sawyer once more in warning. Then, he begins to walk away, every step pulling him further from the one he yearns to be with. Your gaze, burning into him like a relentless brand the entire time.

**

Weeks Later..

Autumn winds blow harshly outside the window as you look around your room. They mirror the melancholy that lingers in your heart. Your room is big and spacious, seems fit for a princess, adorned with sculpted art and paintings. In one corner stands a massive wardrobe crafted from the richness of dark cherry wood filled to the brim with a variety of dresses that would make any lady of your status swoon. Beside it, there’s a lovely vanity with golden carvings that hosts an array of makeup and beauty products. On the opposite side, is a desk that matches your wardrobe. It bears the weight of books, letters from your father, threads, unfinished embroideries and your untouched dinner. 

At a glance, it appears you have everything.

Yet, as you sit on the bed, a pitiful truth echoes louder than the winds outside. Your gaze meets a reflection in the full-length mirror positioned next to the desk, capturing the solemn expression that dances across your features. Dark, sad eyes stare back at you and the weight of isolation is evident in the downturned corners of your mouth. You miss your home. Your friends, your horse, your father, and gods do you miss your mother. 

Upon your arrival, eager anticipation filled your heart as you looked forward to getting acquainted with your future husband. You knew not to expect love to come from it as you were mere strangers but you had hoped for a friend. The promise of a lifelong companion, a partner to share laughter and weave a tapestry of memories together, stirred excitement and nerves within you. It’s what your father and mother had shared. Your foolish heart had eagerly counted down the days, each one a step closer to a shared future.

But now? As the appointed days draw near, the once-cherished anticipation morphs into a heavy sense of dread, casting a haunting shadow over you. Your husband to be looks at you as if you’re the scum on his boots.

The High Lord, your future father in law, is cruel and terrifying. You avoid him at all costs. Your future mother in law, Lady Autumn, is often busy and away. She helps you plan your dreadful wedding during the times she isn’t busy but you find that she is quiet and reserved. There’s a lingering sadness always present in her amber eyes that you assume comes from all the sorrow and grief she’s had to endure. You’ve met one of her sons–Lucien, you remember– during your travels with your father and you used to wonder why he no longer resided in Autumn but not anymore. You can only imagine the horrors he’s had to endure that made him leave.

Hunter enjoys berating you every chance he can. There’s a darkness that burns in him and you can’t help but think about what would become of you if Sawyer was interested in you. One day, while walking through the garden you overheard from some gossiping servants that Hunter was once married. His wife died shortly after the marriage and rumor has it that the frightening Vanserra had something to do with her sudden disappearance. They wondered if the same fate would befall upon you. A thought you didn’t want to linger on as it was absolutely terrifying.

Then, there’s Oliver. Though kinder, only in comparison to Hunter and maybe even Sawyer, he is not to be trusted. He undresses you with his eyes in every glance and vulgarly welcomes you to his bed. You do your best to stay away from him because as lonely as you are, you’re nowhere near desperate for his company, and fear the day he’ll grow wary of your constant rejection.

You find yourself, however, desperate for another’s. Eris. 

You haven’t seen him since that day Sawyer broke your heart, since he let Oliver make a spectacle out of you. Eris had been the only one you’d look forward to seeing during dinner and his noted absence was the reason why you stopped joining the Vanserra dinners yourself.

Days, even weeks have passed, and he hasn’t fulfilled the promise of returning your book, its absence on your nightstand a constant reminder. He hasn’t even asked for his coat back. It remains draped over your desk chair. He’s a rare sight to see when walking amongst the grounds of the Forest house, prompting a question to rise. Is he purposely avoiding you? The mere thought stirs an unexpected pain within you.

There’s no one here for you. 

A little over a month into your lifetime stay at the Forest house and you already feel so alone. So utterly and completely alone.

Suddenly feeling suffocated, you rise from your bed and head toward your favorite area of your room–the window seat. Kneeling on the soft cushion, your fingers reach to open the window, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. The Autumn winds continue to howl through the darkness of the night but their chill does not reach you. Your eyes open and you raise your hand. A surge of electricity courses through you as your hand meets an unseen force. A magical barrier.

Turning your head toward the door, your gaze dips to the bottom where shadows dance. You can make out the planted boots of an Autumn guard and hope deflates. Nothing can come in. Nothing can go out. Not only are you alone but you’re trapped. 

A taste of what’s to come, of what’s to be of the rest of your miserable life. Lonely. Trapped. Locked away into oblivion. No breath you take is enough as you’re suffocated by the storm of emotions flooding through you. This place is your hell. Impending doom. You’re going to die here. Alone. There’s not a soul out there…

Water. You should drink some water. Tremors take over your body as you make your way toward your nightstand. Water spills onto the floor as you pour yourself a glass. You bring the water to your lips but your throat feels like it’s closing up. You glance at the pocket watch on your nightstand and notice it’s half past twelve.

There’s not a soul out there…

You extend your hand towards the watch—a cherished heirloom passed down from your mother. The gentle, rhythmic ticking of it has long been a source of solace and comfort for you. But it’s too late.

The hand clutching onto your glass of water shatters against the dark wood of your nightstand as you clutch the watch to your racing heart. You can only pray to the Cauldron, the Mother, to anyone as the room spins around you. But there’s no one to hear your prayer…

There’s a deep agony in your chest that tightens with every passing second, an inescapable loop of gloom that envelops your every thought and emotion. There’s not a soul out there. You can’t breathe. No one to hear your prayer…

“y/n.”

You catch the faint murmur of your name being called, yet a lingering doubt creeps in. You must be going mad because there’s no one here for you. Not a soul—

“y/n.”

And there it is again. Your name is being called. Louder, firmer this time. It’s real. The cruel clutches of your sorrow that held you captive begin to shatter like your glass from earlier. The sound of your name acts as a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of despair you inadvertently locked yourself into.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, angel,” the soothing voice persists, a gentle anchor for your drifting thoughts. And you can finally hear it. Your beloved watch. Though it's fast, it becomes a comforting undercurrent, a familiar melody that helps steady your racing heartbeat.

You feel like you can finally breathe again. As you blink away the haze clouding your vision and come back down, you are met with a pair of familiar amber eyes. The warm hues flicker like flames as they fixate upon you. Intense but tender and full of concern.

**

“Eris.”

You breathe his name so heavenly, like an answered prayer as you take him in. His dark red hair is tousled as though he emerged hastily from a slumber. Adorned in a thin, un-tied linen shirt, the fine contours of his chest are revealed, and his pants, creased as if donned in urgency, complete the picture of a man who arrived in haste yet with purpose.

"You're here," you say, your tone teetering on the edge of question and you glance toward your door, confirming that the Autumn guard is still stationed there.

You called, he wants to reply but instead, settles on, “I’m here.”

“How?” You ask, aware of the wards in your room preventing winnowing. At first, you thought they were meant to protect you. Now, you’re aware they’re really meant to keep you from escaping.

The corners of his lips lift into a small smirk. “I have my ways. I know every secret tunnel, every little crevice of this estate.”

Your head turns, eyes scanning your room in search of said secret tunnel. Eris lightly grasps your chin, focusing your attention back to him to keep you from spotting the secret door hidden behind your full length mirror. He wipes at the lingering traces of tears on your face, watching as your eyes dip and fixate on the golden chain encircling his neck. A sigil of three hounds captures your attention—an emblem unfamiliar to your discerning gaze, sparking a curiosity that mingles with the relief flooding your senses.

He finds his own breathing to steady at your calming state but at the sight of blood trickling down your hand, a knot twists in his stomach. “You’re hurt.”

You pull your gaze from his necklace, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. “I thought you didn’t care,” you tell him, echoing his words from the last time you saw him.

Again, Eris does not answer you. His eyes scan your room for a moment before abandoning whatever he was searching for. In his haste to aid your bleeding hand, he’s slipping his shirt off without another thought. 

“It’s fine,” you insist.

“No. It’s not.” He shakes his head at you as he guides you to the window nook. If only you knew the effect you had on him. The horror that crashed over him like a bucket of ice cold water, waking him so abruptly from his sleep. At your pain. Your agony. It nearly destroyed him the way it had been destroying you.

Eris pushes you gently to sit while he uses his shirt to wipe your blood off, frowning to himself when he can still hear the irregular beat of your heart. Too engrossed in cleaning your injury, he fails to catch on that the fluttering rhythm of your heart is now stirred by an entirely different source.

His expression transforms into one of genuine surprise as he encounters the gentle skin of your palm. Untouched, unmarked. His gaze flickers back to the shattered pieces of glass by the foot of your bed and then back to your hand. There’s no way. Not even with your healing abilities as a high fae. The amount of blood he had seen, the stinging he had felt through the bond–

“I told you it was fine.”

“But you’re not.” Eris counters and sucks in a sharp breath. “Angel–”

“Neither are you.” You point out, deftly redirecting the focus from yourself.

Your glistening eyes, pools of concern, flicker toward him. Toward his chest, where scars from injuries that had not healed properly and lingering bruises taint the muscles beneath, painting an alarming image. 

Eris averts his gaze, withdrawing slightly, reluctant to confront the vulnerability of the moment. Though your touch is gentle, the softest caress, his entire body tenses at the unfamiliar sensation. Your palm presses against a nasty scar that runs down the length of his abdomen, making him shudder at the memory it came from.

You suspect the answer but you can’t stop yourself from asking anyway. A blend of hurt and anger seeps through your voice.  “Who did this to you?”

Eris stands abruptly, caught in the tumult of conflicting desires–of longing to bask in the warmth of your touch and the simultaneous impulse to flee from it. “You should go to bed,” he says, voice strained. “Get some sleep.”

You stand up as well. “But I’m wide awake.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Eris, please,” you nearly beg and he finds his feet rooted to the ground. He watches as you walk over to your chair, retrieving the coat he let you borrow. You extend it toward him–a silent promise you won’t push him further on his scars.  “We can talk about other things.”

He feels his throat tighten at the urgency in your eyes.  “Like what?”

"Like…" Your voice trails off, your attention turning to the scattered items on your desk. "Embroidery?" you suggest, showing him one of your unfinished projects. It’s an outline of a yellow flower he has seen before but cannot recognize at the moment. 

"You want to talk about...embroidery?" His tone lightens, a subtle easing of tension as he slips into his coat and watches you raise another one. Unlike the first one you showed him, this one is finished and beautifully depicts a white horse with a brown mane and tail.

“This one is of my horse,” you share with pride, a subtle smile gracing your face. The warmth in your expression acts as an irresistible pull for Eris, compelling him to sit back down. "His name is Maximus.”

"I think I miss him the most," you add, the smile on your face faltering. 

It prompts Eris to speak–to keep it from falling. “It’s beautiful.”

Your smile, like the sun breaking through clouds, brightens once more. You’re beautiful, he wants to add.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

Even though he knows he should leave, he finds himself nodding. Because the prospect of your smile faltering, of you returning to your state from earlier becomes an unbearable thought. 

He secures a glamor in your room to keep the guard outside your door from hearing you. Having spent centuries studying the wards in every room, he’s learned how to unravel some pieces of them. Eris allows you to teach him the craft of embroidery. He tries to take in every instruction of yours and finds himself not lost in the craft but lost in the light in your eyes, the delightful curve of your smile as you speak.

As the daughter of a powerful and influential merchant, you’ve stayed in every court and have so many captivating stories to tell. You speak so highly of your father that he doesn’t have it in him to tell you about his dark truth–the real reason behind your arranged marriage. The delicate pricks of the thin needle against his fingers go unnoticed, drowned out by the melody of your laughter, which proves irresistibly contagious. The bond in his chest hums with a resonance that echoes through his being. He wonders, a smaller part of him fervently hoping, if you can feel it too.

Eris stays until your voice trails off–until the heaviness of your eyelids becomes an insurmountable burden, causing you to slump against the softness of the pillows. The temptation to tenderly brush your hair back from your face is strong, but he restrains the impulse.

“Eris?” Your voice, laced with the soft tendrils of sleep, reaches him.

“Yes?”

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

The word—friends—sends a pang through him, but nevertheless, he manages a gentle "yes," reluctant to shatter the moment by uttering the truth that lies beneath the surface of his emotions. He doesn’t want to be your friend. He wants to be more than just your friend. 

A soft content hum comes from you, the only response you can manage. Mindful not to disturb your peaceful slumber, he beckons one of the blankets from your bed with his magic before carefully draping it over your curled up form at the window nook. He quietly draws the curtains shut, shielding you from the intrusion of the rising sun. He positions the embroidery hoop, adorned with the laughable but endearing image of the heart he crafted, beside you. He turns to leave but sneaks one last glance at you. Only then does he allow himself to truly smile.

Eris does not return the following night, even though he desperately wants to. Caution dictates his actions, a week elapsing before a clandestine note passed in the hallway signals his quiet return to your room. It’s during this second visit that he inevitably gives away the hidden door in your room. They lead to the house’s secret tunnels, one only Eris knows well. He promises you to take you through them one day.

It’s half past twelve and as the autumn winds blow outside your window, you're not alone this time. Eris is there with you, weaving conversations that never seem to run dry. An unspoken agreement unfolds–to keep your growing friendship hidden and away from everyone. He continues to sneak into your room, always warning you beforehand as to not scare you. The sacrifice of sleep on these nights becomes inconsequential, for both you and him.

Eris helps you chase your shadows away, taking you through the darkness to the break of the day. Your man after midnight. The soul that heard your prayer.

**

A wrought-iron table, nestled under a cascading canopy of amber leaves, holds an exquisite spread of breakfast delicacies. The air is laced with the enticing aroma of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the sweet fragrance of the flowers that surround you. Lady Autumn, whose name you learned is Raelynn, sits across from you. Her eyes, as deep as the autumnal twilight, reflect warmth back at you–no traces of the lingering sadness you’ve witnessed before in this moment. 

“My apologies, my dear, for not inviting you to breakfast sooner.” Even her voice is as warm as her gaze. “I know this court is not an easy one to adjust to.”

You find yourself smiling in reassurance back at her. Because you understand. If you were her, you’d also be wary of any newcomer.

“Eris tells me you enjoy embroidery?” Lady Raelynn says, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she brings her cup to her mouth. “Among other things.”

“I do,” you answer politely, gaze drifting to the perfectly tended lawn across from the patio you sit at. Targets for archery are neatly arranged.  There’s an arrow embedded into the bull’s eyes of every one of them.

Lady Raelynn follows your gaze. “Are you interested in archery?”

Yes, you want to say and though you find comfort in Lady Autumn’s presence, you're wary of her reaction. What if she deems it unlady like? And decides to forgo any relationship you’ve desperately clung to the hope to?

“I don’t know much about it,” you reply, choosing a diplomatic response.

 “I can teach you.” Lady Raelynn’s smile morphs into a grin. A gasp escapes you, and realization slowly etches itself into your features. “I think we’ll get along just fine,” she laughs, her words sparking hope within you.

“Good morning mother, I’ve come to–” Both of your heads turn to find Eris. He halts mid-sentence, his gaze locking with yours, a flicker of surprise and something deeper dancing in his eyes. It has you averting your gaze with a slight warmth tinting your cheeks.  “I should leave.”

“No, stay,” Lady Raelynn insists with a graceful incline of her head. With a wave of her hand, a plate full of food materializes at the empty spot between you and her, a silent invitation for Eris to join.

Eris bows his head at his mother, acknowledging her command. He takes his place at the table, his movements a bit awkward at first. As he settles in, he can't help the warming relief that washes over him at the sight of both you and his mother taking his advice. He remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, choosing to chime in only when necessary. He’s content to bask in the soothing cadence of your conversation with his mother, indulging in stolen glances at you that linger.

Something that does not go unnoticed by his keen mother nor the way his grip tightens around his fork at the mention of your upcoming wedding.

Lady Raelynn didn’t mean to spoil the mood but she had taken it upon herself to help you plan the ceremony and reception. Albeit, reluctantly at first. That all changed after getting to know you better. Although the marriage would not be to the man of your dreams, she was now determined in ensuring that the wedding would be. It was the least she could do for you, especially after learning about the mistreatment you had endured at the hands of her sons. 

“I hope my son is treating you well?” Lady Raelynn asks you, carrying a note of concern. Her observant eyes catch the brief exchange between you and Eris, not missing the slightest tint that graces his cheeks. At least one of them is. She suppresses a smile as she awaits your answer.

“Sawyer is…” your voice trails off hesitant because he’s barely spoken to you since the incident. One of the rare occurrences being where he randomly met you in the library. He had reluctantly engaged in conversation with you, awkwardly asking what you missed the most from home. A spark of optimism brightens your tone because for once, you do have something good to say about him.

“He is actually arranging for my horse to come here! It’s silly but my horse was my biggest companion back home and I’ve been feeling a bit homesick recently.”

“It’s not silly at all, my dear. Once your horse is here, let's arrange for a morning ride. The Autumn grounds are the most peaceful in the early hours."

Your smile reflects the gratitude in your heart as you look at Lady Autumn. She, in turn, observes her son, who raises his tea to his lips, attempting to conceal the small smile playing on his face. It does nothing to mask the gleam in his eyes. Lady Raelynn is well aware that the sweet gesture is not Sawyer's doing. It's Eris's.

a/n: sooo I'm literally just going with vibes for this series (vibes to songs as that is what inspires most of these.) I wanted to write a slow burn but tbh, I think I'm too impatient for that 😂

When it comes to Sawyer, I do want to explore more of his character. I know that in canon, the Vanserras are menaces but I'd like to hope there's at least one more redeeming brother. I feel like him and reader can fall into a relationship similar to that of Rhaenyra and Laenor from House of Dragon. I also am still stuck between having the marriage actually go through or something drastic that happens that keeps it from happening. Either way, it will be angsty. I left some references in this from a movie that may prompt for more references from said movie. Any guesses? 👀

tagging: @fxckmiup

#eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #eris imagine #eris one shot #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar one shot #acotar!abba #eris vandaddy #eris angel au

[prythianpages]

here's a sneak peak to the Az one shot I'm working on inspired by ABBA's I've Been Waiting For You. No glimpse of Az but a glimpse of the reader's friendship with The Suriel. Might be slightly ooc of the Suriel but that's the beauty in fanfiction sometimes, right? lol

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.” 

#azriel x reader #acotar x abba #sneak peak #i've written most of background and though I'm tempted to make it a two part series #i'm determined to keep it a one shot #so please bear with me lol as I'm finally getting to writing the actual love story between az & reader

[prythianpages]

I wanna write a fic where reader was besties with the Suriel 😩 I miss them 🥺

#I think I’m going to incorporate this into one of my WIPs #maybe the Az one from my ABBA x ACOTAR series #imagine all the tea the Suriel gets #I LIVE for gossip lol

[prythianpages]

I’ve had ABBA’s Super Trouper stuck in my head all week 😭

#and of course I want to add it to my ABBA x acotar list 😩 #here we go again #time to brainstorm lol #shining like the sun ☀️ #makes me think of Lucien

[prythianpages]

Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian x Reader

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

warnings: mild angst; smut at the end; basically, mutual jealousy

a/n: this was inspired by ABBA's song. I'm working on a series where I dedicate a song to each of the ACOTAR men and you can find the masterlist here. I feel like this is borderline crack at some points tbh and probably the longest one shot I've ever written. Also, the amount of times I've rewritten this is insane so I hope you like this final version ❤

Adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind becomes your companion, offering a resistance that you always find yourself craving. It caresses your skin, leaving a bittersweet ache. Running is the closest feeling to flying. Though your wings, tucked behind you, remain, they are rendered useless and forever will be. Those sick Illyrian males, paid off by your own brother, made sure of that.

Sometimes, you wish they would’ve just sloughed them off. An Illyrian with no wings is a tragedy but an Illyrian with useless wings is a devastating tragedy. A fate that, unfortunately, all Illyrian females have to endure.

Heated frustration surges within you, spurred on by the luminous blue hues radiating from the siphons encircling your wrists. You shake your head and take deep breaths because you can not let those triggering thoughts win. You can’t let them win. The primal thud of your heart urges you to push forward and–

“Fuck, marry, kill.”

“Cassian,” you nearly hiss, though the flutter in your chest betrays you. 

“Come on,” he says, a grin playing on his lips as he matches your pace. “Me, Az, and Rhys. Go!”

You slow down your pace to shoot him a sidelong glance and pivot, turning to run the opposite direction. Heat rises to your cheeks. You blame it on your exercise. 

“We played this last night.”

Undeterred, Cassian picks up his pace to stay ahead of you, running backwards with ease. “And you didn’t answer me.”

As you both rounded a corner, someone bumped into you. Your steps faltered slightly before you caught your own balance. 

“Oops. Sorry, didn’t–”

The Illyrian male who collided with you didn’t even have time to finish his apology, as insincere as it was. Cassian shoved him, sending the male plummeting to the ground with a growl. You swear you hear him choke on dirt.

“Watch it, asshole.”

When Cassian turns back to you, you arch a brow at him and he gives you a nonchalant shrug. You both know that male intentionally bumped into you. As one of the few Illyrian females who has defied tradition and trained extensively, the disrespect constantly thrown at you is no surprise. Though you’re no longer fazed by it, you can’t say the same for Cassian.

His gaze softens and grin returns, the wind tousling his dark hair as he maintains his backward stride. “Now, where were we?”

“Fine,” you say with a huff.

It’s not in Cassian’s nature to give up. You’ve played this game multiple times, introduced by Mor, with the inner circle on drunken nights. You were always quick with your answers but not this time. Not when your options were three of your close friends and among them, there was one you secretly or maybe not so secretly harbored feelings for.  That and the lack of liquid courage you usually have at your side when playing.

“Fuck Azriel.”

Cassian’s steps come to a stop and so do yours, albeit reluctantly. There’s a glint in his hazel eyes as he looks at you. “I’m going to tell him.”

“Go ahead,” you reply because you don’t care if the Shadowsingers knows. He’s the safest choice of them all and he wouldn’t let this stupid game get to his head unlike Cassian. “You know that’d be your answer too.”

Both you and Cassian share a look because you’re not wrong.

Then, you both are turning your heads to find the Shadowsinger. Azriel stands at the far end of the training grounds, engaged in the rhythmic lifting of weights. Shirtless. The distance between you two and him is vast, rendering any audible communication impossible. However, the subtle play of shadows around his ears catches your attention, and as if sensing your gazes, he turns, narrowing his eyes at both you and Cassian with an uncanny perceptiveness.

Caught red-handed, both you and Cassian turn your heads away. He looks at you again. “So,” he starts once more and you bite back the urge to groan. At this moment, you’re almost inclined to reveal that you’d like to do all three to the Illyrian male in front of you.

 “Who will you be marrying? Me or Rhys?”

It’s as if he heard his name being called. Rhysand prods gently at the shields of your mind and when you allow him in, you know he relayed the same message to Cassian and Azriel. You both head over to the sparring grounds, where Azriel is already waiting for you. He throws a sword to you and then to Cassian.

Cassian wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you slap his arm. He pinches your side in retaliation, a reminder that you’re not going to live this one down. He moves into position and you mirror him.

He lifts his sword, feigning a lunge that you counter with a swift parry. Your movements are both graceful and calculated, a testament to the years of training under his guidance. Meanwhile, Azriel circles around you both, a silent spectator.

Cassian’s strikes intensify, growing more precise every time. Your swords clash, ringing in the air. But despite your skill, Cassian is stronger, more experienced. Seizing an opportune moment, he lunges with a force that sends you stumbling backward. Your sword clatters to the ground as you find yourself seated on the training grounds.

"Did I serve?" Cassian smirks, offering a mock salute, his muscles flexing in a playful display. "Or did I serve?"

He twirls his sword with a flourish, unaware of the glare you shoot his way. With a determined huff, you gather yourself, reaching for your fallen weapon and swiftly rising to your feet. In a strategic move, you deliver a swift kick, sweeping Cassian off his feet and onto his back.

With a triumphant grin, you step forward, placing a boot on his chest to keep him on the ground. You press your weight on him teasingly, knowing that Azriel is not the only one watching you two anymore. Hazel eyes sparkle back at you with a mixture of pride and a subtle undertone, a hint of something more lingering beneath the surface, as your sword hovers just above his neck. It brings forth an unspoken tension between you both and if you hadn’t blinked, you wouldn’t have missed the way Cassian licks his lips as he looks up at you.

"You got served."

Cassian laughs as you drop your sword and lift your boot. You don’t bother to offer him a hand, wanting to bask in your victory as much as possible but much to your dismay, Azriel helps him up.

Thank you for humbling him.

You turn around to see Rhysand. His lips purse, suppressing his amusement. His eyes become unreadable as he dons his High Lord mask. A palpable aura of immense power radiates from him. 

Beside him, stands another male, whose presence commands just as much attention as Rhysand. His skin is a rich brown and hair white. You’ve never met him before but you know who he is as Rhysand had informed you of his visit. It’s why you were conveniently training in Windhaven, despite your preference for the training grounds atop the House of Wind.

The three of you greet Rhysand first before bowing your heads in respect to the High Lord of the Summer Court.

“This is Cassian, general commander of my armies. This is y/n, one of our great Illyrian warriors and this is Azriel, my spymaster. They are all well equipped and are looking forward to working with your soldiers for the next two weeks.”

**

You’ve rarely traveled outside of the Night Court. You weren't a high fae like Mor or Rhysand so you couldn’t winnow and after the clipping of your wings, you couldn’t fly like Cassian or Azriel. So your friends were your main means of transportation and you were looking forward to working with High Lord Nostrus’s soldiers as it was a means for you to get to explore another one of Prythian’s lovely courts.

But now that you’re here, in their training grounds, you’re no longer looking forward to being here for the next two weeks.

Not when one particularly strikingly beautiful female soldier has set her eyes on Cassian and certainly not when there’s an unfamiliar burning resentment in your chest too strong to ignore. It flares every time her gaze or touch lingers too long. By the Cauldron, since when did every woman you see become a potential threat with Cassian? He is your friend.

A reminder that stings as much as the intensity of the burning feeling coursing through you. Though, you’ve never felt this way before, you realize that you’ve been more sensitive in anything Cassian these past couple of months–since starfall. It’s as if he casted a spell on you, one where you can only think about him. He’s your every waking thought and lingers as your final thought before sleep.

The feeling in your chest flares to a blazing fire when you overhear him praise the female soldier and the wooden sword splinters in your grasp, falling to the ground. 

This is going to be a long two weeks.

“Are you jealous?” Azriel muses beside you.

“Me?” You say with a huff, kicking the evidence of the broken sword away. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by Azriel, the skilled spymaster. The corner of his lips quirk up but you insist. “Jealous? Never.”

You send an amused Azriel a glare before picking up another practice sword. Determined to not let your jealousy get in the way, you engage yourself in training the small group assigned to you. You were here for a reason and you’d give the soldiers under your command your all.

**

After a full afternoon of training, you were eager to clean the dirt and sweat off your skin. You were also eager to distance yourself as much from Cassian and that female before you did something you’d regret. Your bath worked wonders to ease every tense muscle. If you hadn’t been invited by High Lord Nostrus to dinner, you would’ve basked in the warmth of the water a little longer. The sound of waves crashing soothes you as you make your way to your bed, ruffling your damp hair with a towel.

Nestled adjacent to Cassian's and Azriel's quarters, your room stands vast and breathtaking. It’s also missing an entire wall. In its place, vines adorned with blooming dahlias weave along the room's edges, seamlessly bridging the gap between the interior and the great sea outdoors. 

Your attention gravitates towards the bed, adorned in the softest silks, a sanctuary you can’t wait to sink into. Atop it rests a box, concealing an invitation to dinner and an outfit that differs greatly from your Illyrian leathers.

You find a dress. A pale blue masterpiece with a daring plunging neckline and high slits. You’ve never worn anything like it. The fabric is soft and weightless, its wispy texture feels like a gentle sea breeze caressing your skin with every step. You appreciate that it was backless to accommodate your wings.

Sitting down at the vanity, the jewelry that was in the box sparkles back up at you. You're touched by the High Lord’s gesture but you’re also wary of all his gifts. You settle on the most simplest of jewelry–diamond earrings and a sapphire necklace that reminds you of the siphons you wear. You have three in total but the one wrapped around your wrist is the only one you keep with you at all times. You save the other two for when you’re training or fighting to help you control your power.

As you step out of your room, Cassian and Azriel's eyes are drawn to you. You smile at them in greeting. Cassian's gaze lingers, a silent appreciation etched in every curve and contour he not so discreetly takes in. Warmth prickles at your skin, and an inexplicable spark ignites within your chest in response.

Azriel clears his throat, amused eyes dancing between you two. “Shall we?”

Cassian, as if emerging from a trance, regains his composure and grins at you. He extends his arm and you gratefully hook yours through his as he leads the way down the hall. You notice that he also switched his leathers into something more befitting the Summer court’s warmth. He wears dark navy linen pants that match Azriel’s but unlike the dark shirt the Shadowsinger wears, he chose a lighter colored one. The fabric is nearly see through, offering a teasing peek at the tattoos embellishing his chest and the defined muscles that lie beneath.

You feel his gaze on you as you walk beside him that prompts you to look up at him in question. He takes a moment to respond and finally with a sheepish smile says, “you smell nice.”

“Oh, thanks. I used coconut soap that was left in my bathroom,” you respond, a tinge of confusion and subtle disappointment coloring your words. At least it was an actual compliment unlike last starfall when all he said was “you look different.” Yet, it embarrassingly still had the same effect, leaving you blushing. 

Azriel, walking behind you, can't help but let out a snort. Idiots, he thinks to himself. His shadows agree.

**

There’s a wide assortment of delicious food laid out for you all. Your lips quirk up when you catch the way Cassian’s eyes light up at the sight. You take the seat next to him and Azriel the seat across from you. High Lord Nostrus sits at the head of the table, gesturing for you all to dive in. With a snap of his fingers, the golden chalices in front of you fill with a sweet wine.

“I appreciate you all for your efforts in helping strengthen my armies.”

Cassian’s mouth was full of food and Azriel brought his drink to his lips, not keen on the idea of making small talk with the High Lord. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at your male companions, you muster a smile and turn to Nostrus instead.

“I believe we should be the ones thanking you for being such a gracious host. As emissaries of our esteemed High Lord, it is our sincere desire that our efforts not only strengthen your armies but also fortify the bonds of alliance between the courts of Summer and Night.”

“Of course.” Nostrus's turquoise eyes study you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze settling on your wings. The instinct to protectively tuck them in tighter behind you flares, a vulnerable self-consciousness settling in. "From my understanding, it is not common for an Illyrian female to train and fight. Am I right?"

“Yes, you are correct. But I am working closely with my High Lord to rectify that.”

Cassian, sensing your unease, swallows his food, and a reassuring hand finds its place on your thigh, offering a comforting squeeze. You're familiar with Cassian's expressive and caring nature through touch. However, his simple and sweet gestures, such as the way he’s touching your thigh right now, sends your heart racing instead.

"I watched you from afar this afternoon. You took down some of my best soldiers with ease," Nostrus remarks, and a gentle breeze from the nearby sea courses through the open dining room, sending a shudder through your wings. His perceptive eyes catch the movement. "Your wings are different."

The hand on your thigh tightens, mirroring the constriction in your throat.

"High Lord–" Cassian begins, a subtle warning threaded through his otherwise light tone.

Nostrus raises his hand. "I mean no harm. Truly." 

His gaze remains fixed on you as he continues, "As you see, we pride ourselves on every soldier, regardless of gender. Anyone who swears loyalty to this court is held in great esteem. I protect them as much as they would protect my court. While I do not know your story, I now know your worth, and if the Night Court is not able to appreciate you, then–"

"The Night Court appreciates her just fine," Cassian interrupts, a protective edge slicing through his words. He hates Nostrus’s accusatory tone and ignores the warning look Azriel sends his way.

You place a hand over Cassian’s but keep your eyes on Nostrus. “You flatter me, High Lord,” you manage to say with a smile. “Though my scars may say otherwise, I can assure you that my High Lord treats me well. In fact, High Lord Rhysand is working on banning the practice of clipping wings so our future generations will not know the horrors enacted under previous rulers…”

**

Your wings, draped behind you, bear the burden of your trauma–the betrayal of your brother. You hate how sensitive you are at the mere mention of them. You wipe hastily at your eyes. Cassian, who refused to part ways with you at your door, stands silently beside you. Your haunting memories store themselves back into the depths of your mind as his movements catch your attention. It’s strange but comforting, the way he always knows when you don’t want to talk and are in need of a distraction instead.

But your cheeks heat up because you’re unsure if this distraction is a good idea. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Cassian grins at you as he continues stripping himself of his clothes. “I’m going for a swim.”

He winks at you as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in only his boxer briefs that are clinging to him in a way that makes your mouth nearly water. You pull your gaze away, hating the way your mind wants to drift to devious thoughts because you know what lies underneath. You’ve seen him in his full glory far too many times than you’d like to admit–each one of them on accident.

Your heart flutters madly against the fragile cage of your chest and you press a hand against it as if that would do anything to ease your racing heart. Because Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. 

But you did.

He was your mentor before he became your friend and each passing year since then seemed to usher in a quiet surrender. Almost as if every step was an unspoken agreement with your heart, blurring in between the fine line of friendship and something else. You navigated the staircase of emotions, unaware, until you stood near the bottom. Instead of gracefully reaching the last step, the sudden realization of your feelings felt like a forceful tumble, leaving you to hit the ground and boy did you hit it hard.

The sound of a joyful splash resonates through the air, harmonizing with the playful melody of droplets that dance against your bare legs. You shoot a glare Cassian’s way, even though you didn’t mind, and you can’t bring yourself to care when he flicks a middle finger at you in response. You’re far too used to them to be bothered. Realizing that the water felt nice and warm, you nestle yourself on the edge of the floor. You hike your dress up and then dip your legs into the soothing waters.

Bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight, Cassian floats on his back, allowing his wings to carry him through the soft waves. Your gaze lingers on him, tracing the moonlit contours of his muscles. Another splash pulls you out of your trance and this time, the droplets reach the thin fabric of your dress.

“Come on, bibble!” Cassian exclaims.

Your glare returns, irritation flickering in your eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that!”

His grin widens, undeterred. “Won’t you join me?”

You respond with a swift kick, creating a splash that dances towards him. Regret settles in immediately as his eyes light up in the moonlight, holding mischief, as he swims toward you.

“Bibble’,” he nearly purrs, somehow making the stupid nickname sound downright sinful. He braces his hands on either side of you, the muscles of his arms flexing. His chest brushes against your legs and all you can think about is how nice he feels so close to you. “Why won’t you join me?”

You’re looking anywhere but him. “I don’t feel like it.”

Cassian hums, his thoughtful gaze lingering for a moment longer than you'd expect. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding when he turns his head. It’s a short lived moment of relief because in a heartbeat, he pulls your legs from underneath you and drags you into the water with him. You’re splashing and writhing and like an idiot, your mouth opens in panic.

Cassian's strong arms swiftly encircle you, pulling you up from the water's depths. As you resurface, you're coughing and sputtering, water droplets cascading down your face. He chuckles while you hit his chest. 

"I can't swim, you idiot!" 

"Relax," Cassian laughs, his hands holding your hips firmly to keep you afloat with him. His expression, though soft, morphs into something more serious. "I’ve got you. I always will.”

His words unrattle something deep within you and you can’t move, can’t think properly. You can only feel. Your mind goes blank and eyes grow distant as you’re brought back to the night he first said those words. Right after he found you laying in a pool of your own blood. It was the night your wings were clipped. A hand reaches out to caress your face and his fingers rest on your chin, directing your focus to him. 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes. The desire to avert your gaze is strong, but he doesn't permit it. He needs you to answer him. "You know that, right?"

A breath catches in your throat before you finally manage to whisper, "Yeah."

Cassian's lips form a rare, softer smile. He draws you closer until you can feel his breath, sense his warmth. He kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer and when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. A thumb brushes gently against your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips and absentmindedly, his thumb slowly traces along your bottom lip. There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he’s lost in contemplation.

Your heart is roaring in your ears and there’s something singing madly in your chest because he’s never touched you like this before. Tell him. Your breath is shaky when you speak. "Cas?"

He holds his gaze to your lips, allowing the soft rocking of a wave to push him closer to you. "Yes?"

Suddenly, the night sky bursts into a kaleidoscope of colors. The unexpected spectacle and the resonating boom startles you, and on instinct, you find refuge in the safety of Cassian's embrace. If he weren’t caught up in the heat of the moment, he would’ve teased you for the way you are clinging madly onto him, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Wow," you exhale, the initial shock giving way to a relaxed sense of awe.

The fireworks continue to bloom overhead, their vibrant hues reflecting in your wonderstruck eyes. You gradually unwrap your legs from around Cassian, and your arms loosen their hold around his neck. Yet, he maintains a firm grip on your hips.

“Beautiful.”

You hum in agreement, and when you turn back to Cassian, you realize his gaze has never wavered from you throughout the entire display. "What were you going to say?"

"What?"

"What were you going to say earlier…"

"Oh, that," you stammer, panic subtly seeping in, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The courage you once possessed to voice your feelings has dissipated in the wake of the unexpected interruption. “Um, can you teach me how to swim?”

His gaze lingers on you. It’s as if he knows those were not the words you were going to say but he doesn’t push you on it. “Sure,” he says instead and clears his throat, looking away. “But maybe another night?”

“Why?”

You regret your question as soon as you ask it, eyes widening when you feel why. There’s something hard poking at your stomach. You freeze up, not knowing what to do, inadvertently making matters worse. Though the night is dark, the moon glows bright enough for you both to notice your peaked nipples as the thin light fabric of your dress is completely see through in the water.

“Stop staring!” You cry out, using one of your hands to splash water onto him. If he weren’t your lifeline, the only thing keeping you afloat in these deep waters, you would’ve shoved him under water.

Cassian snaps out of it with a flinch, blinking away the salty droplets of water that splashed into his eyes. “I was looking respectfully!”

“Respectfully my ass!”

“I mean, I could look at that too.”

You shoot him a glare, hating the way his words have your insides in a frenzy. He doesn’t seem to care about his obvious arousal poking at you and you don’t have it in you to tease him as you’re desperately trying to hide yours, praying that the vast sea surrounding you is enough to mask your scent. Your hands are grasping out for the vines that run along the edge of the tiles as soon as you can reach them, using them to guide you back into the safety of your room.

You pause before you hoist yourself back up, turning to look at a clearly amused Cassian. 

“Turn around.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles but saves you further embarrassment by doing as you asked. You wait until his back is fully turned to you, wings flaring out behind him and spraying you with sea water on purpose, to hoist yourself up into your room. Once you’re on your feet, you pull at one of the many sheets on your bed, wrapping it snug around your exposed body.

“You can turn back around now.” 

“You can look as much as you want, bibble.” He tells you though your gaze remains fixed on the seashell painting on one of your walls. Your mind is racing and if he asked you what colors were on the painting, you would fail miserably in answering him.  “Disrespectfully too.”

You can hear his agonizingly slow footsteps as he makes his way to the door, not bothering to pick up the clothes he left sprawled all over your floor.  “Get out,” you nearly growl at him, not caring anymore, as you turn around and shove at his back. Because if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re sure you’ll lose your self control.

“Mother’s tits, y/n! I’m going!” He exclaims in protest with a grin evident in his tone.

“Well, go faster!” You huff at him, hands still pressing against his back. “I’m.Tired.”

Tired of holding back your emotions, more like it. As soon as he steps out your door, you’re slamming it shut before he can catch a glimpse of your flustered face.

“Sweet dreams, bibble.”

Leaning against the door, you take a moment to catch your breath as Cassian's deep laughter echoes through the halls. You close your eyes, attempting to rein in the whirlwind of emotions surging within you. It’s not the first time Cassian’s teased you and it won’t be the last and you’re certainly not the only one he flirts with. The female soldier from earlier being a prime example of that.

You know he means no harm by it. Yet, his teasing stings. Because you want it to be real, for him to mean every flirtatious gesture and word. You want him to like you and only you.

**

Nostrus's attempts to entice you into staying in his court become increasingly overt with each passing day. Every evening unveils a new gown adorned with matching jewelry and shoes. Precisely at the stroke of ten, the night sky ignites in a display of vibrant fireworks dedicated to the three of you but when you commented the red ones were your favorite, you note more shades of reds lighting up the night skies. Each morning, a charming arrangement of summer flowers graces your presence. Even the soldiers in your training group can't help but notice the High Lord's watchful gaze whenever he deigns to join them.

Azriel finds the spectacle amusing, always the silent observer to any unfolding drama. However, Cassian is less entertained. During your nightly debriefs with Rhysand, he consistently raises the issue and you’ve noticed that during training, he sticks closer to you. 

None of you bring up the heated moment you shared on your first night in Summer. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen at all and you’re not surprised. While it meant something to you, you know it meant nothing to him.

The female soldier, Olianna, you reluctantly learned her name, is as persistent with him as Nostrus is to you. You’re nearing the end of your first week when the female soldier and a couple of others join your nightly dinner with Nostrus and tonight, in her ruby red dress, she looks devastatingly beautiful. She takes the seat beside Cassian. Your unassigned but assigned spot. You begrudgingly sit beside Azriel instead, who is quick to raise a brow at you.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he replies and when you kick his leg under the table, there’s the faintest of a coy smile on his lips.

You barely even touch your plate. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and it’s not from the food. Cassian has barely even looked at you, engrossed in what appears to be a hilarious conversation with Olianna. You’re thankful when Nostrus excuses you all from dinner, quick to rise from your seat.

“Y/N, may I have a word?” Nostrus calls to you with a smile and when Cassian’s head perks up, finally sparing you a second of his attention, he adds: “In private.”

**

As you make your way back to your room, after a pointless conversation with Nostrus, your steps come abruptly to a halt. Your heart quickens and stomach tightens as you spot Cassian and Olianna down the hall.

Olianna’s hands rest on Cassian’s arms as she looks up at him. Her back is pressed against the wall. He leans down to whisper something that you can’t discern from your distance. It has her giggling and the sound is like a painful stab to your heart. They’re so, so close. That familiar ache settles in your chest, pushing down on you so harshly you can barely breathe. 

How desperately you wish to trade places with her and maybe that could’ve been you, if you had given in to his teasing the other night. While he’d give his body to you, you know his heart would not fall so easily such as the way yours did. Cassian is a true heartthrob, a man who effortlessly captivates the hearts of many but never the one to give his. Why would you be an exception?

You try to push away your unease but fail miserably when they walk further down the hall and disappear around a corner. Doubt begins to creep in, seeping into your bones with a terrifying chilling fear. Maybe, just maybe, there is something more between them and you had lost a battle only you were aware of fighting.

Tears burn at your eyes and as you hear the door shut behind him, you feel your heart shatter at the images that flood your mind. Of him kissing her, touching her and–Stop! 

You’re running blindly to your room, too caught up in your emotions to realize your mistake. Azriel blinks at your sudden entrance, seated on his bed. However, the distress etched across your face propels him to throw his book aside and jump to his feet. Shadows flit towards you, brushing against your exposed skin and he lets out a small exhale in relief when they report no injuries.

"Should I get Cas?" Azriel offers, eyes widening slightly as concern etches its way onto his features.

Your hand reaches out, stopping him before he can leave the room. "No."

He looks at you helplessly. He’s seen you cry before but Cassian was always there in those moments. Yes, Azriel regards you as a good friend–you’ve trained with him for many years alongside Cassian. He’d happily tend to your physical injuries because it was something he was capable of but the depth of your current pain is something he is unsure how to navigate. Something only Cassian uniquely understands.

"Okay," Azriel says slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "What do you need?"

Frustration colors your attempt to wipe away the tears, and a sniffle escapes you. You’ve never felt so small, so fragile and as Azriel watches you break in front of him, realization dawns on him. Something must’ve happened between you and Cassian and his mouth parts to ask but you beat him to it.

"I need you to teach me how to swim." 

**

The next morning you can’t bring yourself to meet Cassian’s gaze. Images of him with Oliana flood your mind every time you cast a glance in his direction and the ache in your chest resurfaces. It’s irrational, you know. He’s not at fault for your feelings. After all, you’re just a friend to him. You have no claim to his affection, even though every fiber of your being yearns for it.

You are the problem.

When he reaches out, his hand lightly grasping your arm, you muster only a feeble greeting. You hear the concern in his voice as he asks what's wrong.

"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile. "I'm just tired."

You feel the weight of his gaze burning into you as you head over to your group. He casts a glance toward Azriel in silent questioning but the Shadowsinger simply shakes his head. 

**

The sun bathes Summer’s training grounds in a warm glow and sweat clings to your skin as you show one of your soldiers a delicate maneuver with your sword that Illyrians favor during battle.

As your gaze lifts with your sword, you catch a glimpse of Cassian and Oliana sparring. Your chest tightens when you can’t help but notice their proximity to one another. The sweet sound of her laughter follows shortly after and the tightening in your chest is replaced with a burning fire.

“I don’t think I’m doing it right. Can you teach me again?”

“Of course.”

Cassian's gaze briefly meets yours, and a sudden rush of emotion courses through you. You’re quickly averting your eyes, attempting to feign disinterest. You tell yourself you're no longer watching them, but deep down, your mind is painting vivid pictures, imprinting scenes of Cassian with her. 

However, this time, it's not sadness that simmers within. It’s a burning anger and your siphons flare. Cassian is free to do whatever he pleases in his spare time but during training? When you’re working and glaringly right in front of you?

Olianna’s laughter rings out again, the sound mingling with the clash of steel. Another pang of envy stabs through your chest, sharper than the blade in your hand. 

“Like this?”

“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart.”

Your blood runs cold, sending shivers down your spine yet, there’s an undeniable blaze burning fiercely within your chest. It’s a possessive fire, a primal instinct screaming “mine” in the depths of your very being. Why does she get a sweet nickname and you a stupid one? Why is he so gentle in training her when he was harsh with you?

“That’s it,” you hiss under your breath, looking back at your group. “I’m going to show you how a fight is won.”

Tightening your grip on your sword, you nearly stomp your way to Cassian. Azriel’s head perks up from where he stands, eyes widening for a fleeting moment as he catches the glow of your siphons. “Y/n, what are–”

“Stay out of it!” You exclaim, pointing your sword at him. The sharp blade teases at his throat and he falters. His shadows whisper to him in warning and he holds his hands up in surrender, catching something flickering in your eyes.

Cassian and Oliana turn their heads at the commotion. She instinctively takes a step behind Cassian and your jaw clenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to notice it though, attention solely focused on you.

 “What’s the matter, bibble?”

 You point your sword at him. “You.”

“Me?” He responds, a bewildered expression crossing his face. However, he remains unfazed as your sword points directly at his chest. 

“You’ve gone soft, General.” you tell him, inclining your head towards Oliana and you can’t bring yourself to care if your emotions seep out. The envy is coursing through you like an unrelenting fire. “How is she to hone in her skills when she spends most of her training laughing and batting her pretty eyelashes at you?”

Cassian lets out a chuckle. It’s been years since you’ve referred to him by his title. His hazel eyes take you in, sparkling at you with something you can’t discern. He can read the challenge in your eyes and when he finally spares a glance to the female behind him, he turns back to you. His fingers grasp at your blade carefully, lowering your sword so he can take a step forward. 

“She’s not ready to be challenged.”

You smirk at him, standing your ground. “A soldier is never fully prepared for battle.”

Cassian takes another step forward and though your sword lowers further, your grip on the hilt tightens. “And a General knows when it’s best for their soldiers to refrain from entering the battlefield.”

You take pleasure in the way Oliana huffs out indignantly from behind him.

You arch an eyebrow at him in challenge. Deep down, you’re aware nothing good is going to come from this but your Illyrian blood craves an outlet for the pent-up emotions that have been brewing for many years. 

“You fight me then,” you demand and you can feel the simmering fire between you intensifying. You welcome it, almost seeking the chaos it promises. "And don't you dare go soft on me."

His pupils flare and a sly smirk curls upon his lips. “I don’t think you can handle me.”

“Lay it all on me.”

**

Two blood rubies, sinister in their crimson glow, glisten back at you, creating a dance of hues that pulse and flicker with an inner fire. One for Cassian. One for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach and you want to cry.

This is all your doing. Your fault. 

Cassian, however, does not regard the rubies sent from the Summer Court with the same gravity. "Might as well put these beauties to use. I’m sure it would look stunning on a necklace. Maybe, even a ring,” he quips as he picks his up, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

You immediately sense that nothing good is going to come from this–the same way you did before the two of you accidentally destroyed a building. He turns to you and gets down on one knee. There’s a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he looks up at you.

“Marry me?" 

A rush of heat floods your face, and your eyes instinctively seek out Rhysand, finding him far from amused. He's fuming with a quiet rage, his gaze icy and piercing. You quickly avert your eyes, shifting your attention back to the Illyrian male now kneeling before you. You nudge his knee with your leg, ignoring the twinge of hurt at the expense of his joke.

"Get up, Cas.”

"Say yes.”

"Get up.”

“You think this is funny??”

You flinch at the sharpness of Rhysand’s tone and Cassian stands with a sigh. His hand brushes against yours but you don’t dare take it. You don’t deserve it. It’s only been hours since your abrupt return from Summer–since your heated fight sent an entire building crumbling into rubble. If Azriel hadn’t used his shadows to return you home immediately after, you’re not sure you’d be alive right now.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys,” you say,  lowering your head and Rhysand’s gaze softens at the nervous fidgeting of your hands. “It’s all my fault.” 

“No, it’s mine.” Cassian steps forward, hand resting on your waist to gently push you back behind him as he takes full responsibility. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“Cas, I’m the one who challenged you.”

He ignores you. “It was my blast that sent that building, as weak as it already was, to crumble down.”

Rhysand lets out a deep sigh. He leans back into his seat, fingers rubbing at his forehead at the images Azriel provides. He finds that you both are equally at fault. They’re complete wreck less idiots,  Rhysand groans into the Shadowsinger’s mind.

I know.  There’s a hint of amusement in Azriel’s response.

Running a hand down his face in exhaustion, Rhysand looks at both you and Cassian. 

You stand there, still behind Cassian, anxious as you await your impending punishment and he can literally hear your mind racing without having to intrude. Meanwhile, Cassian, seemingly unfazed, hums a carefree tune to himself, earning an incredulous glance from you. 

“Well I can kiss my alliance with the Summer Court goodbye but I will not have a High Lord from another court seeking vengeance on two of my closest friends. You each are going to write your most heartfelt apologies to Nostrus, beg if you must, and let us all pray to the Cauldron that he finds it in his heart to forgive you.”

Parchment, ink and quills appear at the desk before you. With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand uses his magic to bring forth two chairs, gesturing for you and Cassian to sit. “You two are not allowed to leave this room until those letters are finished.”

Rhysand then turns to Azriel. “I need you to watch them. Make sure they don’t destroy any of my buildings.”

A low, almost melodramatic groan escapes Azriel’s lips. “Why do I always have to babysit them?”

“Azriel.”

“Fine.”

Once Rhysand leaves, you slump into one of the chairs with a small sigh of relief. You pick up a quill, dipping it in ink and stare at the blank parchment. Cassian does the same. Azriel picks up a book from one of the shelves. He then seats himself at Rhysand’s chair, right across from you both.

“Please make this quick,” his voice almost pleads, eyes darting between you both.

“You write it for me then.” Cassian rips a piece of paper, crumbling it into a tiny ball before flicking it at his friend. Azriel rolls his eyes, his loyal shadows catching the piece of paper midair and sending it back to Cassian, hitting his forehead with a tiny “whoosh.”

Your eyebrows furrow in an attempt to focus, all the while trying to ignore the distracting bounce of Cassian's leg. Slowly but surely, you’re scribbling words onto the parchment and before you know it, you’re crafting the most sincere apology to High Lord Nostrus. 

Cassian picks up on your deep concentration. He leans in closer, warm breath tickling your ear. “Whatcha writing there, bibble?”

“An apology,” you respond dryly, shooting him a sideways glance. You take note that his paper is still blank. “Something you should be doing too if you want us to make it to dinner.”

“I am. I’m just brainstorming,” he retorts in a ‘duh’ tone. “Let me see yours!”

You’re sliding your parchment away from his prying eyes. “No. Use your own brain!”

Ever the persistent one, Cassian leans in even closer, his head now practically resting on your shoulder as your hands hover over your paper, careful not to smear the fresh ink. “Come on, just a peek. I promise not to steal your most heartfelt words.”

With an exasperated sigh, you relent, allowing him a quick glimpse. His eyes are skimming through the words with an appreciative tilt of his head. “I like it. But maybe add a bit more details and drama, you know? Tug at his heartstrings a little more, he seemed to like you a lot.”

“We’re not trying to craft a masterpiece to win an award, Cassian,” you hiss at him, snatching your letter away from him.

“But you are trying to free yourself of a death sentence.” Azriel remarks, peering over his book at you as he reminds you that receiving a blood ruby from the Summer Court is not something to be taken lightly.

“See? Az gets it.” Cassian chuckles.

“Shut up and get to writing.” Azriel snaps at the busybody beside you, a stern edge in his tone.

“Yes, sir!”

**

Fortunately, the three of you arrive just in time for dinner. Unfortunately, the predominant topic at the table centers around the destruction of the building in the Summer Court. Rhysand, having taken the time to cool down, is noticeably calmer. While he remains upset that you and Cassian veered off course from your assigned mission, there's also a hint of happiness in having his friends back home and safe.

Cassian casually drapes his arm over the back of your chair, and the room is filled with the melody of his laughter in response to something Mor said. Something you should’ve caught as you’re seated right across from her but it’s the rich scent of sandalwood that captivates all your senses, causing your stomach to flutter. You barely manage to swallow your food without choking–a fact not lost on Azriel. He, however, chooses not to comment, sparing you from further embarrassment and grinning into his glass of wine instead.

 Rhysand glares at Mor and you get a sense of what had been said when he says: “Please don’t encourage these architects of chaos.”

You groan, leaning back into your seat. The regret is instant as the edge of your wing brushes against Cassian’s arm. It sends a slight shiver down your spine and you’re mustering all your strength to keep it from causing your sensitive wings to twitch. You’re down bad.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure, but before we do…” Amren begins, a devious smile playing on her lips as she glances at you from across the table. “Can I keep the rubies?”

“Yeah and you can even keep the threat that comes with it too.”

The rest of dinner is, for the most part, uneventful. Rhysand excuses himself early to finish on some paperwork and before he leaves, he lets you and Cassian know that High Lord Nostrus should be receiving your written apologies by tomorrow morning. Amren leaves shortly after, eager to return to the quiet peace of her home. Just in time, too, as she manages to avoid a pointless argument between Cassian and Azriel over who has the best technique in training.

Not wanting to be dragged into it, you rise from your seat, grabbing a hold of the two remaining unopened wine bottles that Rhysand forgot to take back with him. You turn to Mor and you laugh when you don’t even have to say anything. She’s already standing from her seat, gesturing for you to lead the way.

The two of you end up in one of the living rooms and you’re touched when you find that the sentient house has a delicious assortment of desserts waiting for you on the coffee table. You sink into the comfort of the couch, feeling like you’re sitting on a cloud. Mor seats herself beside you, doing the honors of pouring you a glass of wine.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you are immersed into the dirtiest of gossip and catch up with one another. You move to pour yourself another glass only to find the second wine bottle empty, so you set your empty glass down on the coffee table. Leaning back into the comfort of the plush couch, you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know what he’s done to me,” you confess quietly, exhaustion taking over your features. “I’ve known him for years and all of sudden, I’m a possessive jealous mess? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Mor raises a brow, as if it makes perfect sense to her. She then hums in contemplation, swirling the last drops of wine in her glass. “Maybe we should go out, have some fun, find a little distraction for you.”

“Or you can tell Cassian how you feel.”

The deep voice startles you both, causing Mor to gasp. Her glass falls from her grasps as Azriel emerges from the shadows. She regards the small specks of red tainting the white carpet with a frown before lifting her gaze to scowl at the Shadowsinger while you shoot him a mortified look.

“How dare you give her a reasonable option?” Mor chides him, waving her hands dramatically in the air.

“Stop with that nonsense, Az,” you say, a slight slur to your words. A frown settles onto your face, heart aching as your mind forces you to think of Cassian and Olianna. “He doesn’t feel the same for me as I do for him. I’ll only ruin our friendship if I do.”

Azriel’s eyes travel throughout the room. He takes in the empty bottles of wine, your hazy eyes and Mor’s flushed face. He looks like he wants to tell you something, on the verge of sharing a secret. Yet, whatever words linger on the tip of his tongue remain unspoken. He decides it’s best to turn around and leave, the inked wing on his arm burning further into his skin.

“Fine but don’t call me for help when you destroy another building.”

"Oh, fuck you."

He doesn't bother to turn around as he returns the gesture, a small chuckle escaping from him as he disappears into his shadows.

“So,” you turn back to Mor. “How about that distraction?” 

**

“By the Cauldron, you look absolutely ravishing.” Mor whistles, stepping back to appreciate her work and as you look at your reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but agree.

After asking Rhysand to fly you both down, Mor winnowed you both to the townhouse, where she kept most of her going out clothes as it was a shorter distance to Rita’s. Insisting on glamming you up, she took charge of your hair and makeup, even providing you with a choice from her wardrobe. Considering the wings, your options were limited, but your gaze was drawn to a striking red satin dress. It had an alluring lace-up open back and a daring slit hem.

After scouring the dance floor for an hour from your seat at the bar, you finally find someone who catches your interest and as you approach him, you’re happy to find that he isn't intimidated by the sight of your wings. Despite your determination to keep a low profile in Velaris, it becomes challenging to go unnoticed when your friends all possess such great reputations, especially when Cassian is by your side. Mor wishes you good luck, sending you a wink as you depart from her side. 

The male, who is named Felix, slings an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him as you dance and you find yourself missing the scent of sandalwood immensely. He grins at you, intentions as clear as yours. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, drinking you under the neon lights of Rita’s. He licks his lips and glances over at your wings. “I’ve heard Illyrians can be very sensitive when it comes to their wings. Can I touch?”

Your mind immediately brings an image forward, of your wings being softly caressed, and heat pools down to your stomach. But in your head, it’s not the male in front of you. It’s Cassian’s.  

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!”

By the Cauldron, your mind is playing tricks on you as you can even hear his voice too.

You feel the loss of warmth from the male and you open your eyes just in time to see Felix sent stumbling to the floor. Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Cassian is standing in front of you, chest heaving. The people who had stopped to stare quickly avert their gazes at his heated stare.

Felix gets up to his feet. He doesn’t even spare you a glance or a word as he disappears into the crowd. You’re immediately leaving the dance floor, not bothering to grab your coat before you exit the club with Cassian hot on your heels.

You pivot and Cassian nearly bumps into you. “What the fuck Cassian?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, returning your glare. “What the fuck?”

“Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know. Something didn't feel right." Cassian confesses, placing a hand over his chest as if to settle a pain.

You turn back around, knowing the towering Illyrian male was already planning to follow you. You begin to make your way to your place–a small apartment that Rhysand had gifted you on your first solstice in Velaris. You seldom used it, preferring to stay at either the house of wind or townhouse, but Rhysand insisted you have a place of your own in case you ever need space.

“And that gave you the right to ruin my night?” you huff over your shoulder.

“Ruin your night? I just saved you!”

“From what?” You laugh with sarcasm, grateful that the walk from your apartment and Rita’s was short. Pulling your key out from your bra, you hastily unlock your door.  “An orgasm? Gee, thanks. Love you for that,” and then under your breath mutter: “I didn’t stop you from yours in Summer.”

As soon as you step through your door, you turn and shut it behind you. A boot stops you from doing so and Cassian pushes against you and the door, allowing himself in. “What are you talking about?”

“You mean to tell me nothing happened between you and Olianna?”

“Yes, because nothing happened! She asked me to help her with a move after dinner so I did and…” His voice trails off, and then a heavy silence descends as realization washes over him. He looks at you, and you instinctively avert your gaze.

Without bothering to slip off your heels, you dart straight to your room, desperate to put as much distance between the two of you. You’re not ready to have this conversation. Relief mingles with embarrassment, both emotions flooding you and sending blood rushing to your face. But Cassian is determined. He follows after you.

“Were you jealous?”

Arms crossed over your chest, you keep your back to him, wings curled around you. “No.”

Cassian chuckles, and before you know it, he's spinning you around to face him. One hand presses against your lower back, the other at your face. A smirk plays on his lips as he reads the defiant expression on your face. He knows you’re lying.

“You were jealous.”

“So were you,” you manage to say back.

Cassian hums in what can only be agreement. A thumb reaches out to brush your lower lip, the same way he did your first night in Summer, and then he’s replacing his thumb with his lips. The way he wanted to that night. His kiss is anything but gentle. It’s pure heated desire–one that has been simmering for years. You kiss him back, matching his urgency and he groans, allowing both of his hands to cup your face as his lips mold perfectly against yours.

He pulls away, his hands still cradling your face as his gaze burns into yours. “You want to orgasm tonight? I can give it to you.”

A thrill runs down your spine and your wings shudder. You should push him away. Cassian is your friend. A friend… who is offering to give you an orgasm with a very promising look at this very moment. Though your heart tells you not to, that you might end up hurt after this, there’s that singing in your chest again. Give in.

“You sound so confident.”

His eyes darken as his legs push against yours, walking you both to your bed. The back of your knees meet your bed and you give in, allowing yourself to fall onto the soft sheets behind you. You land on your elbows and push yourself even further up on your bed until your back meets your headrest.

“Don’t test me, baby,” he purrs, watching the way your thighs clench in response to the new nickname. It makes his cock harden in his pants. “I can have you screaming all night long.”

“Lay it all on me,” you reply, heart be damned.

Cassian wastes no time in stripping himself of his clothes, lust filled eyes fixated on you. His hard cock springs free and your eyes widen because yes, you’ve seen him before but not like this. Not when he’s hard and leaking and it’s all for you. He pumps himself, licking his lips, as your arousal floods his senses before easing himself onto the bed.

He slips your heels off and discards them. His hands caress their way up your legs and the roughness of his hands, weathered by many battles and challenges, feels heavenly against you. As his hands make their way higher, they begin kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs, dragging your dress up along with his movements. He groans at the thin lace that greets him, pressing his lips against your clothed core.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

“Well, you did catch me in the middle of something promising earlier…”

Cassian growls at your words, a wave of possessiveness taking over him. “Yeah? Well, by the time I’m done with you, it will be my cum dripping out of this pretty pussy.”

He’s tugging at your underwear, hastily dragging it down your legs. With a devious smirk, he grasps your hands and places them over his hair. “Hold on tight, baby.”

It’s the only warning he gives you before diving right in and setting you alight with his mouth. His nose brushes against your clit as he begins to fuck you with his tongue. “Do you know how often I thought of this? Of tasting you.”

You want to tell him you’ve thought of this too but you’re too lost in the pleasure of his mouth. All you can do is moan and it spurs him on, urging him to bring you closer to your release.  “I can only imagine how good I’ll feel inside you.”

His words, a promise of what is to come, is your undoing. You’re squirming beneath him, back arching off the bed as you thread your fingers through his hair. A string of curses leaves your lips when he presses multiple kisses to your clit, overwhelming you in such a delightful way.

Cassian pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as he grins and your heart flutters. He crawls his way up your body, replacing his tongue with his fingers, reveling in the way they easily slide in. His lips slot over yours in a sloppy and heated kiss. When he slips another finger into you, you’re moaning into his mouth. His tongue dances with yours, wrestling for dominance that you ardently submit to.

“Please, Cassian,” you’re begging when his lips leave yours and his cock twitches at the pretty sounds that follow after. Another wave of white hot pleasure crashes over you and he groans, loving the way you're clenching so tightly around his fingers. “I need you.”

Cassian slips his fingers out of you, placing his hands at your hips to flip the both of you over. He adjusts you to straddle his lap, gaze burning into you with need. “Show me.”

“But let’s get rid of this first.” His fingers toy with the slit of your dress. “I need to see all of you.”

You nod, fingers reaching behind to undo the laces of your dress. The sound of fabric ripping reaches your ears before you can undo the first knot and cool air caresses against the newly exposed skin. 

“Cassian!”

“That’s my name, baby,” he grins at you, expertly unclasping your bra and throwing it behind you along with the torn dress.

“That wasn’t my dre–oh.” Your protest dies at your throat, eyes fluttering shut as he takes your breasts in his hands, kneading the soft flesh and pressing them together. The torn dress you borrowed from Mor is long forgotten, stored away in the back of your mind. The same way you stored away all your reservations. The desire that’s been consuming you is too much for you to think through reasonably so you succumb completely into it, knowing there will be consequences to deal with later.

**

It’s almost embarrassing how much Cassian has thought about this, especially after the tease you gave him in Summer. His desires had gone beyond wanting to kiss you that night. He wanted to see, feel and taste every part of you. To hear you moaning and screaming just for him. Now, that you’re completely bare before him, he can look, feel and taste all he wants. And he plans to bask in every second of your warmth.

 “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, leaning in to take a breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardening nipple with burning hunger. Your hands find purchase in his hair again as you arch yourself further, grinding against him. Lewd moans escape from both of you when the tip of his cock brushes against your sensitive clit. Cassian dives for your neck next, pressing hot open mouthed kisses everywhere he can. 

“Come on, baby girl. Show me how much you need me and ride me.”

Aligning yourself with him, you slowly sink down onto his cock, savoring the burn from the stretch. His fingers run up and down your sides before settling onto your hips. Eyes fluttering shut at the sheer intensity of your warmth, he can’t help but thrust up into you, fully sheathing himself inside you. His head tilts back when you begin to move and he releases a deep groan.

It’s when your thighs start to tremble and wings flare out that he takes over. He hugs you tightly, arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand rubs at your clit. While he pants and groans against your neck, you’re crying and screaming out his name. He plants his feet on the bed and thrusts ruthlessly up into you over and over again until you both reach your high, wings flaring out. 

**

As Cassian stirs in bed, a cool emptiness greets him, replacing the warmth he expected. Blinking his eyes open, he finds the spot beside him empty. You're gone. The lingering trace of your sweet scent is the only evidence of what transpired between you both. Fuck. Apprehension weighs down on his mind in your absence, threatening to sicken his stomach. He needs to talk to you. 

After freshening up and slipping into the spare clothes he keeps at your place, his determination to find you takes hold. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you—guilt, anxiety, and fear. There’s an inkling in his mind as to where you are. He knows you so well. A soft smile graces his lips when he spots you on the training grounds of the house of wind, unleashing powerful strikes on a punching bag.

Your hair is gathered into a carefree bun, and today, you've traded your usual leathers for leggings and a sports bra. You’re a vision of strength and beauty and as loose strands of your hair dance in the breeze, Cassian finds himself lost in the realization of just how deeply in love with you he is. 

He lands softly, fighting the urge to frown when he notices the immediate tension in your body from his presence. He hesitates, his throat bobbing as he looks at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Can we—"

"No, let me talk first," you interrupt with a deep sigh as you turn to face him.

"But I had something to say first," he insists with a slight shake of his head.

“I have something more important to say."

Cassian crosses his arms, challenging your claim. "My something is more important than your something."

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air and as the weight of your confession sinks in, a wave of fear grips you. You're certain you've just shattered any hopes of a remaining friendship with him. Because after last night, there's no way you can keep going on as a friend when you want to be so much more. The silence becomes maddening, and suddenly, you can't hold it any longer.

“I love you so much it hurts,” you admit with a trembling breath, tears welling in your eyes. “Because I want your every smile, your every laugh, but above all, I want your heart and–and I’m sorry for–”

“Oh, y/n,” Cassian interrupts with a chuckle.

The sound makes you go weak and you’re absolutely mortified. He rarely ever calls you by your name. He’s about to break your heart, the very thing you’ve been fearing since the realization of your feelings. The urge to run away grips you, but your feet remain planted. You lack the strength to escape the moment. Tears flow freely down your face, and your wings sag behind you, unable to bear the weight of vulnerability.

“You’ve had my heart from the start.”

Slowly, you lift your gaze. Hazel eyes bore into yours, the golden flecks glimmering at you. “What?”

He steps closer to you until he's standing right in front of you. His hands cradle your face as he wipes at your tears. “I’ve loved you for years. I thought I made it pretty obvious, especially after last night.”

“Not obvious enough,” you remark with a huff but there’s a playful and affectionate undertone in your voice.

“I could remind you again?”

"Please."

A radiant smile breaks onto Cassian’s face, and the warmth in his eyes washes away any doubt that may have lingered in your heart. Something within you flutters madly against your ribs. All these years…the teasing, the flirting, the lingering touches. They all meant something to him, the same way it did for you. You’ve loved him and he loved you back. So many years wasted, yearning and pining for one another. As you gaze into each other’s eyes, so many unspoken words are said and there’s a shared understanding that you’re not wasting another moment.

**

Rhysand raises his cup of coffee to his lips, the rich aroma swirling around him as he catches a glimpse of Cassian, carrying you over his shoulder, with an eagerness he’s familiar with. He then glances over the rim of his mug at Azriel, seated across from him at the breakfast table.

"Do you think they know?"

Azriel snorts in response. "Doubt it. I think you should tell them."

“No.” Rhysand's lips curve into a smirk. "Let's see how long it takes them to realize that their mating bond has snapped into place."

“We should probably head out.”

“Good idea,” Rhysand replies with a nod of his head.

In the blink of an eye, the sentient house packs the remnants of their breakfast for them to enjoy elsewhere. Without a moment's delay, they make their way to one of the balconies. Their wings gracefully unfurl behind them, catching the morning sunlight that bathes them in a golden glow.

As they soar away, you and Cassian remain blissfully unaware of the invisible thread that has silently bound your souls together for years.

tagging: @historiaxvanserra

a/n: I always wanted to write a fic where a mating bond has snapped but neither of them have a clue because they already loved each other, might be a bit unrealistic but 🤷‍♀️ I came across this bibble meme while writing this and it reminded me of both reader and Cas in some aspects. Since I couldn't think of an embarrassing nickname, I went with Bibble and so now the cute little character is canon in Prythian in this lol.

if you want more background info on reader and cas: click here

Other things that I included in this part:

This scene from Vampire Diaries.

also, this tiktok.

#cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian x you #cassian fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar cassian #cassian smut #acotar smut

[prythianpages]

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go.

warnings: fluff/angst; some suggestiveness at the end (bonus scene)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also my Azriel x witch reader series. I really adore this song and this was the only series I could apply it to. This can pretty much be read as a stand alone imagine. All you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az.

**

In the quiet hush of morning, Azriel and Melaina find themselves at the breakfast table with sleep in their eyes. The floor is cloaked in their shadows, joining one another at their feet in a vast sea of darkness.

Yet, the dance of their shadows harbor distinct meanings.

Though he tries to hide it, your keen eyes pick up on the subtle poignant unease in Azriel's demeanor. An undercurrent of melancholy taints the air, prompting you to send a reassuring tug through your bond. Azriel returns the gesture, his hand finding yours across the table. Meanwhile, Melaina quietly finishes her breakfast. Her shadows, a whirlwind of nerves and excitement, betray her impassive appearance. Today is her first day of school, the precipice of a new chapter in her life, and Azriel can't help but grapple with the realization that his little girl is growing up far too quickly.

“All done, my pretty?” You ask softly, gaze alight with admiration as her small wings flutter behind her.

She’s the mirror image of her father with her captivating hazel eyes–a perfect blend of greens and browns that remind you of the nature you’re so fond of. Two braids cascade down her shoulders and delicate bangs accentuate her sun-kissed complexion. When she was born, you had joked that you had given birth to Azriel’s carbon copy and little did you know that even her personality would match his. 

Melaina nods and you rise, taking her plate to the kitchen sink. The corner of your lips lift up into a smile when you hear Azriel ask, “Are you sure you want to go to school? You can always start next year.”

“Mel is more than ready for school,” you lightly chide Azriel, who chooses to ignore your words of consolation. 

His gaze is fixed on Melaina, a plethora of scenarios plaguing his mind. He wishes he could see what’s really on her mind–to be able to foresee any worries she may have and ease her through them. The same way he’s eased her through every milestone of her life thus far. He was there when she took her first steps, when she first got hurt from tripping over a rug that he immediately disposed of after, when she said her first word–which much to your dismay was your cat’s name, Binx. 

But now, she was ready for school. Her first time being away from home without you or him or his brothers by her side. Her first time being on her own. What if the kids in her class don’t take well to her? To her shadows? He remembers the apprehensive looks he’d receive in Windhaven when growing up and the thought of anyone doing the same to her pains him. What if they are mean to her? What if they hurt her?

The obsidian tendrils at Azriel's side stir with an eerie melody, commanding Melaina's shadows to rise. They snap to attention like disciplined soldiers heeding orders. An unspoken promise unfolds—her shadows would help guide her and protect her from any lingering stare or slightest suspicion of malintent. They return to her side as she rises to her feet, tickling her sides and causing her to giggle.

 Azriel smiles and shares her laughter, capturing every minute of it, the feeling in it.

**

There’s that odd melancholy feeling again as he stands in front of the school with Melaina on one side and you on the other. He can’t help the frown that settles over his face when she wiggles her tiny hand out of his grasp to run to her cousins. You’re following after her, tugging Azriel along with you to join his brothers and their mates at the front of the school.

“Good morning, Azriel jr,” Cassian greets her with a smile, playfully tugging at one of her braids. “Are you ready for your first day?”

Melaina lets out a huff. “Of course I am, Uncle Cas.”

Cassian then looks toward Azriel, who continues to brood, and chuckles. “It doesn’t look like your daddy is.”

Azriel glares at Cassian. You leave his side to hug Feyre and the frown leaves his face at the delighted squeal that comes from you, his shadows singing in response. He turns his head to see you and Feyre exchange smiles while you gush in excitement over her growing belly. Though Feyre looks at Azriel with a knowing smile, her words are directed to you.

“Rhys was the same way with Nyx,” she muses and out of the corner of his eye, Azriel catches his brother rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t deny it.

“So was Nesta,” Cassian adds, propping an elbow on Nesta’s shoulders. She shoves him off with a shrug before chiding after their twin boys, Cardan and Calian. The aftermath of the aphrodisiac you made–or rather, remade–for her after Azriel accidentally drank the first batch.

“I’m surprised you’re faring well with this,” Feyre says with a raised brow at you.

“Well, someone has to be the strong one,” you tease, side glancing at Azriel and squeezing his hand. 

Azriel lets out a small huff, similar to the one Melaina let out earlier. He knew you were also stressed and a little sad but you were surprisingly able to hide it better than him. But unbeknownst to him, just in case the obsidian necklace she wore was not enough, you had casted a protection spell over Melaina before she went to bed…and packed her bags with a variety of charged crystals.

The gathering of students at the school's entrance slowly disperses, and Azriel tenses beside you, acknowledging the imminent moment of having to say goodbye. Nyx, ever courteous, takes it upon himself to accompany Melaina to class. Azriel suspects Feyre's influence in Nyx's gesture, as if she intuited the added difficulty for him and you. He watches as Melaina walks back to you and you lean down, gently smoothing her bangs before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Today will be a wonderful day for you,” you affirm for her with a radiant smile, making Azriel's heart melt at the sight of the two girls he loves the most.  He wishes that he could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time. 

Your hand delicately reaches for the obsidian crystal suspended from her neck, lifting it tenderly to your lips. There’s a flash of green light that engulfs the crystal and as you release the necklace, Azriel notices the new sparkle to it. “Love you, my pretty.”

Though Melaina doesn’t verbalize it back, her eyes radiate a golden glow and the soft caress of her shadows against your face feels like a tender whisper that articulates, "I love you too.” You pull her in close, hugging her smaller frame and lean down to whisper. But Azriel’s attentive senses still catch it.

“Now hug and give your daddy a kiss so he doesn’t cry.”

Azriel resists the urge to roll his eyes. Feeling a tug on his sweater, he leans down to meet his daughter at eye level. Opening his arms expectantly, a surge of warmth envelops him as she eagerly rushes into his embrace. A tender kiss graces his cheek, accompanied by the familiar caress of her shadows against his other cheek similar to the way they had done with you. He pulls away to look at her, holding her gently by the shoulders. He knows her shadows will do well to protect her and if those aren’t enough, her older cousins are just a couple of classrooms down the hall. But he needs to hear her say it.

“What will you do if someone is mean to you?”

Melaina’s eyes light up and she steps out from his hold. True to the goddess you named her after, she's a tiny vision of nightmares and madness, as she assumes a defensive position, her shadows dancing around her.

“Kick them in the face!” She exclaims as she raises her leg up with a glare directed toward her nonexistent enemy.  “I'll make my enemies bleed.”

Cardan and Calian follow after her while Nyx wisely keeps a safe distance, amused by the spectacle of his younger cousins engaging in an imaginary brawl. Cassian watches them fondly, striking punches of his own into the air but you’re shaking your head with furrowed brows. Azriel catches the pointed look you send his way and a subtle blush overtakes his cheeks as you’ve discovered his secret. He continues to read Melaina, those books you told him not to. 

“No, Mel, that’s not–”

“That’s my girl,” Azriel grins as he rises to his feet, feeling slightly better. He rustles her bangs fondly.

The sound of the school bell echoes through the park as a final warning that class should be beginning shortly. Azriel reluctantly shrugs Melaina’s backpack off his shoulder, the small bag looking ridiculous on someone of his stature. He adjusts it on her with careful consideration for her delicate wings and feels an ache in his chest as the backpack nearly engulfs her smaller frame. 

As the faint rustling, reminiscent of rocks shifting, comes from the bag, it is Azriel’s turn to send you a subtle yet pointed look in your direction. A suppressed smile tugs at his lips when you quickly avert your gaze and he realizes he wasn’t the only one keeping a secret.

“Off you go, my little shadow. See you later.”

Once the backpack is secured to her, she takes Nyx’s waiting hand and runs off to the entrance with him. Azriel almost frowns but then, at the top of the stairs, she turns around, waving goodbye with a small absent-minded smile.

He watches her go into the school with a surge of that well-known sadness. Tears prick his eyes and though he knows he’s being dramatic, he can’t help the feeling that he’s losing her forever. His sweet little girl who keeps on growing. She’s slipping through his fingers all the time.

**

Bonus scene

Before his family could indulge in making fun of him, Azriel grasps your hand, drawing you close as he summons his shadows. The inky tendrils swirl around you both, transporting you back to the familiar sanctuary of your home.

"If this is your reaction on her first day of school, I can only imagine what you’ll be like when she has her first crush," you say, a teasing sparkle in your eyes.

Azriel's grip on you tightens. He doesn’t want to grapple further into the inevitability of his daughter's growing independence because to him, Melaina will always be his baby girl. A subtle strain echoes in his voice as he pleads, "Don't."

Easing out of his embrace, you giggle at his dramatics, strolling toward the kitchen with a lightness in your step, intent on brewing some tea. "It's just a couple of hours, Az," you reassure him.

"A couple of hours?" Azriel echoes, a pensive note in his voice as he joins you in the kitchen.

Having taken the entire week off, he had intended to be present for every moment—dropping Melaina off and picking her up during her first week at school. He didn’t plan for much other than that and he was used to spending his days off with his little family but now Melaina was off at school, leaving the two of you alone.

The kettle placed on the stove begins to whistle, harmonizing with the new thought that brews in his mind. You’re raising your steaming cup of tea to your lips, peering over at Azriel as he walks up to you. “What? You want some?” You ask, raising your cup to him.

Azriel shakes his head with a smile. Carefully taking the cup from you, he places it onto the counter behind you. He gently but firmly holds your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. The faint blush on his cheeks returns, a soft hue that complements the golden brilliance in his eyes as he looks down at you with adoration because you’ve given him everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

Still, there's an insatiable desire within him for even more moments, more shared dreams, and more of you.

“Let’s have another?”

“A baby?”

Azriel nods, attentively studying your features for any nuanced emotion. He feels relief when you smile and you voice your answer without having to say anything, flooding him with love through the bond you share. The two of you had discussed having children years ago, almost two years before having Melaina. After she was born, you mirrored each other’s desires for having more but had agreed on waiting but not too long as you wanted your children to grow up together.

“We do have a couple of hours to ourselves,” you remind him again, embracing him with arms entwined around his neck, fingers brushing through the back of his hair.

He hooks his arms under your knees, lifting you up with ease and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist. He grins when your legs tighten around him and kisses you.

“Let’s not waste another second.”

**

a/n: hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it <3 Sorry, I skipped ahead. I do want to eventually write an imagine for when Az & reader first find out they're having a baby. That might be the next imagine for this series.

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #az!dandelions