#acotar fan fic

[illyrian-dreamer]

A Shadowsinger’s intuition

Azriel x Reader

Who did this to you? prompt.

Summary: You return home injured after a mission. Azriel demands to know who hurt you.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries.

Word count: 2,036

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You dropped your sword as you winnowed into the entrance hall of the River House, the metal clanking against the marble floors. Well, that was one way to announce yourself.  

Gasping in pain, you clutched at your stomach, the sensation of the beating you just took still throbbing. You pulled yourself to your knees as you panted in exhaustion, unable to stand. It had taken everything you had to be able to escape and return home in one piece.

Your wrists throbbed too, and you felt your blood heat through the dressings you had hastily applied before your long journey home. You would need to dress them properly before you gave into the exhaustion.

“What in Mother’s name–”. Strong hands were on you then, holding you from collapsing completely. Violet eyes scanned you all over, panic locked in them. Rhys.

“I’m alright,” you panted, your breath still unsettled with the amount of magic it took to get home. You held onto his arms, trying to hold yourself up.

“Let me check properly,” he said as he knelt down at you. He lowered a look, asking for permission with raised brows. You knew that meant him entering your mind, and you were not ready to face what had just happened.

“Don’t!” You tried to convey as much assertion in your voice as you could in your state. “Please – just, don’t.”

Rhys frowned at you, but nodded tightly. He would never impose on your privacy, even in a moment like this.

Dark shadows filled your vision then, and you felt a cold hand on your back.

“Y/N!” Azriel was immediately in front of you as he crouched next to your High Lord, his brows pulled as he frantically scanned you. You knew Rhys would be catching him up to speed mind-to-mind. You focused on your breathing, your shaking, closing your eyes as you tried to block out the pain.

“Take her to the infirmary,” Rhys said before he placed the back of his hand against your sweaty forehead. The pain in your abdomen eased thanks to the work of his magic, and you breathed in relief.

“No, no I’m fine, I just need-need some rest,” you stuttered, trying to find the strength to stand.

Both of the males looked at you disapprovingly, unconvinced.

“Please.” You shot a look at Azriel, eyes pleading. He knew you hated the infirmary, and would only go there if absolutely necessary.

Azriel’s hazel eyes softened. “Rhys, leave her with me,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and hoisting you up.

Rhys stood with you, giving you one more glance of concern. “If you’re sure brother.” Azriel nodded tightly, and your High Lord disappeared with a ripple of darkness.

You pulled out of Azriel’s hold, your legs weak as you tried to turn your heel, not wanting to spend a moment alone with him. You took a few wobbly steps before preparing to winnow one final time to your room.

A strong hand caught your elbow. ‘Where are you going?”

You sighed. “I’m exhausted Azriel, I’m turning in.”

He looked at you, bewildered. “Are you mad?”

“Can we please discuss this tomorrow?”

Azriel took a quick breath, weighing his options. “I’ll take you to your room.”

You didn't have a chance to object as air and wind folded around you. The next thing you knew, you both stood a distance apart in your chambers.

“What are those?” Azriel turned to you the second you landed, nodding towards your bandages.

“What are what?”

Azriel stared at you with an unimpressed face. You both knew what he was talking about – the dressings on your wrists were not a common wound site for spy work.

“They’re injuries,” you said plainly, clearly annoyed by his intrusion. “I’m fine.”

The male walked towards you carefully, as if you would flee if he moved too fast. He wasn't wrong to assume that, as you were already eyeing the door, moving back a few paces on instinct.

Azriel frowned at your reaction. Why would you recoil?

“Y/N,” he said gently, his baritone voice soft. You knew what was coming.

“It’s nothing, Az,” you swallowed, your eyes pleading for him to drop it.

He levelled a look at you. “It is not nothing.”

Azriel stepped towards you again, and this time you let him. He gently reached for your arm as he unbound the wound at your wrist. It only took a few layers to show the blood stained in the dressings, and Azriel’s brows furrowed at the sight.

You pulled your wrist back, uncomfortable with how much was revealed already. You didn't wan’t  to see your wounds, you didn't want Azriel to see them either – you didn't want to think. You were exhausted, and you needed sleep.

“Leave it, Azriel,” you snapped, eyes cold as you held your wrist to your chest. The fast movement made it throb in pain.

Azriel ran his eyes over you, not faltered by your lash out. He was all to familiar with this kind of behaviour.

“Y/N, let me see your wounds, and I can help you treat them,” he reasoned, palms open as he towered over you.

“I can treat them myself,” you spat. He was getting dangerously close, too close to the truth, the shame… “Leave,” you demanded, glaring up at the tall Illyrian before you. You felt much like a feral kitten, spitting and hissing at an unknown threat.

Azriel sighed at your reluctance, but didn’t turn away. “What happened on your mission?” he asked, his voice gentle as his eyebrows pulled again.

Damn him. You tore your eyes away as tears stung at the memory, shame flooding your cheeks with red. You didn't want to think, to feel, to remember…

“I said for you to leave.” Your voice broke, and it took all you had not to sink to the floor and let out all your pent up emotions right there and then.

“Y/N,” Azriel said calmly, stepping towards you and placing gentle hands on both your shoulders.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you brushed it away quickly. Azriel sighed, concern still etched on his normally stoic face.

“How about we treat these wounds together, and I won't ask any questions.”

You stood still, not speaking and not looking at him either. You just wanted to ground to swallow you up. But you didn’t flinch, didn't push him away when he turned your wrist upwards, slowly continuing to unwrap the dressings.

Azriel sucked in a sharp breath when he revealed the injury beneath. Patterned gashes lay in a circular ring around your wist, and your skin throbbed from the blisters that had already began to form.

A growl rumbled from his chest.

“I got caught in the wire fence,” you said quietly.  

Azriel shook his head, immediately detecting your lie. “That would make sense Y/N, if it didn’t look like your skin was burned at the same time. Not to mention the matching bandage on your other wrist.”

You scowled as he noted the detail – the Spymaster always at work.

“I’ve seen this injury before,” his voiced laced with suppressed rage he raised eyes to yours. “From shackles.”

More tears fell from your eyes.

“Who did this to you?”

You shook your head at him. “You said no questions.”

“That was before I found out they shackled you. Who did this to you Y/N?”

You looked away, refusing to answer his question.

Azriel growled, his voice deep in his chest as a predatory instinct to protect you, to kill for you, took over.

“Azriel, stop it,” you snapped. He blinked at you, his eyes still dark as he forced a deep breath. He reached for you again – and the next thing you knew, you were winnowed to a small medical room in the house.

“Sit here,” Azriel said, gently pushing you down on the one wooden chair of the room. He turned to grab supplies from a cupboard behind, making quick work to gather the ointment and bandages he would need. You kept your eyes on the floor, it was hard to look the Shadowsinger in his eyes after the stupid mistakes you had made on your mission. You knew he would be disappointed in you if he knew…

The hazel glow had returned to Azriel’s eyes by the time he started to dab your wounds with ointment, and he gently wrapped both your wrists in new dressings with practiced skill.

“I will kill them for what they did to you,” he spoke into the quiet.

“I know,” you replied softly.

Azriel was crouched at your wrists as he fixed the final dressing into place. He looked up at you, his dark hair had fallen into his eyes while he worked. “Why aren't you telling me what happened?”

You sighed, shifting in your seat, uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze. “Because Az… it’s my own fault.”

“What?” Azriel said too harshly, and you winced at his reaction.

“Please Az, can we drop it?”

“No.” He was frowning at you now.

You looked back at him, eyes pleading.

“Y/N, I’ll be damned if I let you blame yourself for injuries you acquire on a mission. Especially ones of such cruel intent.”

Your eyes stung with tears again, as you looked to the ceiling trying to stop them. There was silence, a beat between you two.

“They snuck up on me Az. They caught me because I wasn’t aware, I had turned my back – exactly what you taught me not to do-“

Azriel closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words. “Y/N–“ he tried to speak.

“I let my guard down. It’s my own fault.” You couldn’t help the small cry that escaped you.

Azriel placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing gentIy to comfort you. He let you cry, knowing you needed to let it out before he spoke. When your breathing slowed and he bought a gentle hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, you are an incredible spy. Injuries are part of the job, that part is true, but anyone willing to shackle you is a cruel, insidious enemy. That is not your fault.”

You blinked at Azriel. You wanted to believe him, but you knew if you had been that much more careful, they would never have–

“Stop. I can see what you’re doing,” he said, levelling a look at you. You raised your eyebrows in shock.

“You can spend days, months, even years going over the moment in your head where it all went wrong. But you can’t change what happened. You don't need to punish yourself, Y/N.”

You stared back at the Shadowsinger. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“You have no idea,” he replied, his mouth pulling to a sad smile. You nodded, taking a deep breath of relief that you were not alone.

“They had laced the shackles in feabane,” you whispered, staring past Azriel as your mind flashed with the memory of how it burned at your skin.

Azriel shook his head in dismay, his eyes darkening again. “They’re dead.”

His promise hung in the air, as another beat of silence passed between you two.

You coughed, straightening in your chair as you shook the memory from your mind. “Thank you, Az. How do you always know exactly what I need?” you cocked your head at him, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

Azriel's hazel eyes bored into yours – his look lingering a moment too long, as if he was waiting for you to understand something. Something warm and familiar swelled in your heart.

“Call it a Shadowsinger’s intuition,” he said.

You smiled slightly, letting the questions you were too shy to ask hang between you.

“You need rest.” Azriel stood, holding a scarred hand out for you to hold as he prepared to winnow you back to your chambers.

You took it, shadows now circling between where you were joined. The feeling of his large hand closing around yours – it just felt so right. 

Azriel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. Shadowsinger’s intuition indeed.

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#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel oneshot #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar fan fic #acotar one shot #azriel one shot #shadowsinger x reader #mating bond

[hadesforpreswrites]

i just want a good, old-fashioned friends-to-lovers azriel fic

smut is optional at this point

#ash speaks #acotar fic #acotar fan fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fan fic #azriel fanfic #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel x reader

[witch-and-her-witcher]

Chapter Seven (7/7)

Decode This Case

azris | explicit | mod au, angst, mind the tags/chapter warnings!

ao3

Summary: There couldn't be worse timing for the new allegations against Night Co's coder as Azriel struggles with his emotional state of isolation and loneliness as his family and friends seem to move on without him. Enter Eris Vanserra to make Azriel's life even more complicated, smug and regrettably handsome as ever.

Eris has impeccable timing - or is it all just careful calculations? Whatever has aligned their reunion, he knows nothing will be accomplished until he can pull Azriel from his fog

Tag list: @wilde-knight, @iftheshoef1tz, @queercontrarian, @chunkypossum, @ofduskanddreams, @popjunkie42-blog, @acourtofladydeath, @moonpatroclus, @areyoudreaminof, @bunnymallowo, @born-to-riot, @baileybird71.

Let me know if you want added or removed! ❤️

#thank you so much everyone who has read along! #here's the very open ended epilogue #enjoy the eris and mor showdown #decode this case #azris #azriel x eris #azriel #eris vanserra #acotar #acotar fan fic #my writing

[thattrable]

A Moment with Nyx

Summary: Rhys and Feyre share a moment with Nyx after he is born.

Notes: Spoilers for ACOSF

Teaser:  “I never thought the happiest moment of my life would also be the most terrifying.”

__________

“Darling,” I said, easing myself onto the bed next to Feyre and sliding my arm around her shoulders. “I love you,” I murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d said those words to her today. The fact that she’d almost . . . My chest throbbed at the thought of it. I knew Feyre knew that I loved her, that there was nothing in this entire world I wouldn’t do for her, but in our final moments all I could think of was that none of it had been enough.

Feyre turned her head to stare at me with her gorgeous gray-blue eyes. “I love you, too.” She pressed her lips against mine and my body shuddered. She pulled away, her brows knitted in concern. “Rhys,” she trailed soft kisses along my cheeks, brushing away the tears that I hadn’t even realized were falling. “Rhys, it’s okay now. We made it. We’re here.” Feyre kissed me one more time before looking down at the sleeping babe in her arms. “We all are.”

I gently placed a hand over the one Feyre had supporting his head.

He was perfect, and he was ours.

“Nyx,” I whispered, “Our Nyx.”

It was a miracle he was here. That any of us was.

I looked again at Feyre. My mate. Mother of my child. Her hair was slightly disheveled and I could see in her eyes how tired she was. “Can I get you anything, my love?”

“No, not right now.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, just tired,” She admitted.

“Are you sure?” I pressed.

She smiled at me. “Yes, Madja said we were all going to be okay, remember, Rhys?” And then as if she knew what I was about to say next, she added, “It’s normal for me to feel tired.”

I knew she was right. Madja had said all three of us were perfectly healthy after Nesta had used the trove to save us during Nyx’s birth. She’d checked Feyre and Nyx extensively and then insisted on checking me as well. She was amazed—we all were— by what Nesta had given to save us. There was almost no limit to what I would do or give to repay Feyre’s sister for her sacrifice.

I rubbed my thumb over the back of Feyre’s hand.

A son. We had a son.

In all my years I’d never hoped to have a family of my own. I never dared to consider a mate who would see me for everything I am and not only accept me, but love me as she does. And offspring… Feyre had given me a son.

There was nothing I wouldn’t do for them.

“Rhys,” Feyre whispered, “A thought for a thought?”

She knew me too well.

“I felt you…” I started, “felt you dying. And I knew that I was dying too. And that Nyx was…” My voice became shaky and I trailed off.

Feyre rested her head against my shoulder. “I know, Rhys… I felt you too. I felt you holding onto me, trying to pull me back.” Her voice cracked. “I was trying so hard to stay.”

“I never thought the happiest moment of my life would also be the most terrifying.”

“Me either,” She agreed.

We sat in contented silence for a while. I had no idea how much time had passed while I held my mate and our son in my arms. I was beginning to wonder if Feyre had fallen asleep when she said, “You once told me that everything you love has a tendency to be taken away from you.” I tensed up, but let her continue. “Those are my things too now, Rhys. We share those things. They are mine, just as much as they are yours. I love you, the way you love me. And I love Nyx, the way you love Nyx. And our family. And our Court. All of it, Rhys. We are one, until the very last star winks out of existence, we are one. And I will share, and protect the things you love just as you do.”

I kissed her temple several times before resting my forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“I know.” She smiled softly, shifting her attention to Nyx, “but I don’t want to put him down.”

“I’ll hold him.” I replied, sitting up in bed so that I could reverently take the small winged boy from her. He stirred in my arms for a moment but did not wake, not as I tucked him against my chest and laid back onto the pillows.

Feyre rolled onto her side next to me, placing a hand over Nyx. “We made him.”

“I know,” I grinned, “That’s why he’s so beautiful.”

Feyre chuckled, and Cauldron, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, especially as she began to glow with that brilliant light of hers.

“Happy, Feyre darling?”

“More than I ever thought I could be.”

“Me too, my love. Me too.

#acotar #acotar fan fiction #acotar fan fic #rhys #rhysand #feyre #nyx #feysand #feysandnyx

[nestaismommy]

Ok so I went searching for this fic and is it 'eye of the storm' by alwaysbeingme17 on Ao3.I skim read the first chapter and it sounds similar to what you said.I haven't read it completely though so I'm not sure :/

I hope this helps though :)

Yep that’s the one!! Thank you to the people who helped. The author is @nestaarcheronladydeath

I was reading there fan fic “eye of the storm” earlier but I lost it and I’ve been looking for a while. I was going insane lmao

Anyways, thank you again I really appreciate all of you ❤️❤️ + stan the author for getting me interested in this fic to the point were I was practically going insane trying to find it 💅🏼

#nesta archeron #acotar fanfiction #ACOTAR fan fic #acotar #sarah j maas #sjm fanfic

[frictionandfluff]

Hello! I saw your post so here I am with a prompt. Could you give me Azriel and Nesta? I ship them so much, I would love them, it could be them bonding over trauma with fire or anything you can think of!

I hope you have a great day!

Nesta stared into the flames, the crackling of the logs didn't bother her anymore. It still reminded of the day her father died but she was able to cope. Entering the sitting room quietly, Azriel shook her out of her reverie.

"I thought you had gone to bed."

She smiled at the Shadowsinger, "I know it sounds silly but sometimes I have trouble falling asleep when Cassian is gone."

Her eyes returned to the flames and his followed as he stood next to her. "It's not silly. You've been together for a while. I'm sure he misses you just as much."

"Still?" she asked.

He smirked, "I think you know the answer. Has ever ever made you doubt? About anything?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I question his sanity daily."

Azriel laughed softly. After a moment in companionable silence he asks, "I've caught you staring at the fire a few times recently, are you thinking of your father?"

Azriel knew about her aversion to fire after her father's death. She had told him one Winter Solstice years ago after everyone had passed out for the evening. She sighed, "I was. I honestly thought I could never be around a fire again." Her eyes slid to his scarred hands.

"What about you? Were you afraid of fire?"

"Yes," he replied after a moment. "For a short while. I realized my fear wasn't of the flames, it was of my brothers and what they did and that fear turned to rage."

She didn't look at him when her eyes glassed over, not with pity or sadness but with anger at an act that took place long before she came into this world. She understood the rage, the anger, the weakness. Blinking the sheen of moisture from her eyes, she met his gaze.

"The rage is why we're still here. Why we'll always be here."

#acotar #acotar fan fic #nesta #azriel #fic prompt

[nocasdatsgay]

As soon as this headache goes away I’m posting the price you pay for power ch. 2.

From the shadows the beast will rise I have to finish the chapter still.

#updates #the price you pay for power #from the shadows the beast will rise #Acotar fan fic #I’m dying y’all 😭 #my head hurts so bad I can’t think

[shes-homeward-bound]

#fanfiction #fan fic #f1 fan fic #acotar fan fic #fanfic #hunger games fanfiction #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3

[assriels]

lose control | prologue

pairing: azriel x day court!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: allusions to sex/one night stand but nothing explicit (yet)

summary: the humble beginnings of your complicated relationship with azriel

series masterlist

The first time you and Azriel slept together was an act of convenience, fraught by mutual attraction. It was a flurry of heady seduction, hands and teeth and tongues colliding sloppily — though pleasurably — as you pulled him by the collar of his shirt over the threshold of your bedroom in the late hours of the night of one of Helion’s overindulgent parties.

It wasn’t the first time you two had met, but it was the first time you had any meaningful interaction past polite greetings at the meetings between your respective High Lords.

You’d been watching him all night, tracking his movements and the way he carried himself with an air of such confident nonchalance. Truthfully, you were supposed to be observing everyone at the party — a lesson in networking, Helion had told you — but you couldn’t help your gaze from straying to the Night Court’s spymaster more and more as the night progressed.

At the time, you had been relatively new to your role as Helion’s second in command — a position you rightfully earned with your grit and blood, despite the rumors of your appointment being the product of nepotism. They were rumors you abhorred, insulted by the insinuation of Helion’s favoritism and that you had not earned your keep. But they were rumors you could understand; had you taken an outsider’s perspective, you might have thought the same thing.

When your father — one of Helion’s top generals — met his untimely and gruesome end on a mission gone wrong, Helion himself saw to it that you, a mere adolescent at the time, were well taken care of. Having lost your mother before you could exhale your first cry, and having lost your father on the cusp of your adulthood, your orphanage pulled at Helion’s heartstrings; he always liked your family. So, Helion took on the task of your parentage, providing lessons in a plethora of subjects from fine art to the sciences, and offered advice about the many trials you’d faced in your late adolescence and early adulthood.

Notwithstanding your enjoyment of the challenge of living and learning, nothing compared to your inherent skill in war strategy; you truly were the child of your father. When Helion caught wind of your exceptional prowess in strategy, he’d helped you hone your skill, challenging you year by year with more difficult tasks, pleased in every way a fatherly figure would be.

Though suspicions of Helion’s soft spot for you were true, it played no role in your acquisition of the warmaster — and subsequent second in command — title you now bore. You’d proved yourself time and time again, besting some of the Day Court’s most renowned soldiers in games of wit and combat. You were an indisputable prodigy.

But even still, even after a decade of proving your competence as Helion’s rightful second hand, some still questioned your ability. And — looking back on it now — you supposed you had let their skepticism of you get to your head, planting seeds of insecurity deep in the recesses of your mind. And maybe it was because of this burgeoning insecurity that you were so wildly drawn to Azriel, a beautiful challenge with dark lashes and hazel eyes.

It was a ridiculous notion borne of the naivety of youth to think that bedding a beautiful half-stranger would prove your worth and erase your uncertainty in yourself, as if somehow your skill on the battlefield could be corroborated by your skills of seduction. But you bought into it, determined to use your charm and wit to coax him to your room.

It worked, though you imagined that Azriel had his own reasoning for following you down Helions’s estate’s hallways.

And he most certainly did. At the time, he had still been deep in his unreciprocated pining for Mor, and watching her flirt with the patrons at Helion’s party sent his chest lurching in pain and longing. So when you sidled up next to him with a spare flute of faerie wine in your hands, he allowed himself to indulge in your beauty, allowed himself to crack open the door to his heart just a little to let you in. For just a moment, just a night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the rush of fondness and joy that flung that door to his heart wide open, filling his chest with a light he hadn’t experienced before. Maybe it was the faerie wine, or maybe it was the way your lips curved in a stunning arc that had him leaning in closer to you, whispering risqué promises in your ear as you laughed with heat blooming on your cheeks. He knew what would happen next, and the thrill of anticipation coursed through his veins in a persistent pulse; he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to want and be wanted back.

Azriel couldn’t remember who invited who to “talk somewhere quieter” first, but in hindsight it didn’t matter. You had come like a thief in the night and stolen all of his attention, erasing any thoughts of any other female before you. Just one night, he had told himself before he indulged in you. Just one night and he’d go back to his reality, back to the darkness of his longing.

Though Azriel’s night with you ended with the early morning sun peeking through your curtains, he never truly returned to the reality of his life before you. The longing he felt for Mor — though still present and pervasive — had eased somewhat by the gentleness of your touch, and he found his thoughts shifting gradually.

It happened slowly at first, a fleeting image of the curve of your spine, a brief flash of the glow upon your cheeks when you smiled. And then as the mental pictures of you grew more insistent in his consciousness, he sought you out, taking more missions in the Day Court and spending one night longer every time to keep you company.

He had told himself he had it under control, would most likely be overtaken by his affections for Mor at some point once again like he always was. But every night he spent warming your bed pulled him deeper and deeper into a space he was unsure how to navigate. You were…a friend, maybe. And though he knew friends did not sleep with one another on a relatively regular basis, Azriel intentionally ignored the complicated maze of his feelings, opting instead to lose himself in your magnetism for fear that if he allowed himself more time to think, to ponder about what his desire for you meant, he’d be sent into another painful spiral of unreciprocated affections.

So he kept whatever unexplored feelings he did or did not have for you locked away, enjoying the strange limbo and relative detachedness of your relationship. He was allowed to have fun, and you were both consenting 500-something-year-olds; where was the harm in a little messiness?

He had this under control.

Oh, poor misguided Shadowsinger. How wrong you are.

part i (coming soon!)

a/n: here is the prologue!! honestly this was an impulse post, but i’m just so excited for this series, i couldn’t help it! come talk to me about your theories and ideas of what will/should happen ;-)

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fan fiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel angst #acotar azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fluff #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #acowar fanfic #acosf

[corroded-hellfire]

A little blurb I came up with in honor of our High Lady’s birthday and the winter solstice. This is modern!eddie x reader who seem to bump heads when it comes to their respective fantasy series: Lord of the Rings & A Court of Thorns and Roses. Thank you to @big-ope-vibes and @fracturedarkness for reading this over for me 💖

Words: 733

Dustin lets himself into your apartment as he always does. One of the very first things you and Eddie learned when you’d moved in was to make sure the front door is locked if you didn’t want hordes of teenagers just busting in at all times of the day.

“I can’t believe you think that’s better!”

Dustin hears Eddie shout from your shared bedroom and the younger man sinks down into a kitchen chair with a groan. Maybe he could make an escape before either of you noticed he was there. It’s not like you could have heard him come in over the volume of your argument.

“God damn it, not this again,” Dustin mumbles to himself as he stands up.

He isn’t quick enough though. Eddie stomps out of the bedroom, you hot on his heels. You notice Dustin before your boyfriend does and throw him a quick, semi-forced smile before turning your attention back to your boyfriend. Eddie gives him a nod in greeting before your reply.

“You have no taste! Arwen sounds like the name of a hotel maintenance repair guy! My daughter will not have that name.”

Eddie scoffs and shakes his head.

“And what, your top pick is so much better?” Eddie spits out.

“Yes!”

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yet you say I’m the one with no taste?” he asks.

“Feyre is a beautiful name! What’s wrong with it?”

Eddie pulls out the old, worn blue chair that’s across the table from Dustin and plops down into it. He looks imploringly at one of his best friends, not even sure what he’s asking for. Backup? Agreement? Would either make a difference?

“What about Galadriel?” Eddie asks. “We’ll call her ‘Gal.’”

“That’s worse than Arwen!” you tell him as you walk to the fridge and grab a drink. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but you hold up a hand before he can get the words out. “If you say ‘Éowyn’ I swear to God you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Dustin rolls his eyes as Eddie stands up again, taking a few steps closer to you.

“Éowyn sounds like that other name you suggested!” he argues.

“Amren?” you ask. Eddie nods and you shake your head. “They are entirely different names. And I think I’ve given you some great options.”

“Haven’t heard a good one yet,” Eddie says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

One hand slams your drink down before it rests on your hip while the other you hold up in front of your face so you can count off the names on your fingers.

“Morrigan, Nesta, Elain!”

“Uh, you know,” Dustin pipes up as he begins to stand, “Elain sounds pretty reasonable.”

“Gimme a second, Dustin,” Eddie says, waving a dismissive hand at his buddy. The shorter man just rolls his eyes and plops back down in his seat.

“Samwise!” Eddie hurls at you, upping his volume. “It could work for a boy or a girl! Call them Sam.”

“If we’re going with that, we might as well go with Rhysand! Call him Rhys!” you shout back.

“I see we’ve moved on to boys now…” Dustin mumbles to himself.

“Legolas!” Eddie barks.

“Cassian!” you snap back.

“Aragorn.”

“Azriel.”

“Boromir.”

“Lucien.”

Eddie smirks and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously.

“What about Tam—”

“You shut your damn mouth,” you hiss, pointing a finger at him.

Eddie scoffs and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Dustin stands up, emanating a deep groan.

“You guys!” he yells, louder than both of you had been. It catches your attention and you and Eddie look over at him. “Will you two stop arguing over these names? Holy shit. You’re not even pregnant—you’re not having a baby! God damn it.”

Dustin shakes his head and walks towards the front door, clearly exasperated from just being in your home a few minutes.

“Maybe I’ll come back after you do have a kid and all this bullshit will be over,” he mumbles as he walks outside. The door reverberates as he slams it shut behind him.

A moment passes before you and Eddie tear your eyes from the door to meet each other’s gaze. Your boyfriend arches an eyebrow at you.

“So, the name Dustin is a no go?” he asks.

“A definite no.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #ACOTAR #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

[k-daydreams]

The pursuit of Feeling Alive: I. Intro

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader, PLATONIC!IC x reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Warnings: trauma, swearing, pining, angst?

Word Count: 4.8k

Author note: this is my first acotar fic! It was originally going to be a singular self indulgent azriel fic, but I can’t ever get to the point and I got too many ideas. Definitely not very canon with the timeline of series I think lol, just going to throw that out there. I’ve already rough drafted another chapter and thought I’d share the work on here. Feel free to share your thoughts! If you’d like to be added to a tag list let me know!

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Internally, you teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown, ready to tear yourself apart from within. Externally, you wore a mask of cold calculation, hoping no one could detect your distress and near senility. Earlier in the day, your cousin Mor had mentioned that her high lord and your other dear cousin, Rhysand, had matters to discuss with your high lord, Helion. The reason for their meeting was of no concern to Mor to bother filling you in.

Your heart thumped against your chest, unsure of what to expect. It had been over fifty years since the Day Court and Night Court had engaged in official business since the end of Amarantha's reign of terror. You had seen Rhysand during the time under the mountain, where you spent nearly half a century with him until Feyre saved Prythian. Still holding visits with him after to report to him along with Mor, thanks to her frequent visits to Helion. However, the rest of the court, especially those you hadn't met since after Amarantha and Hybern, remained a mystery, with only Mor's updates for context.

Following your time under the mountain, you chose to reside in the Day Court under Helion's rule as an emissary between the two Solar Courts. It served as a means to shield yourself from feeling too deeply, allowing you to focus on healing from the traumatic events you endured during those fifty years. There were other matters you had yet to confront and come to terms with, voluntarily choosing to ignore them. By hiding away and conducting your business mainly with Mor and Rhys, you could maintain a sense of avoidance of your once home.

Now, in the dining hall of the palace where Helion and his inner court resided—including yourself—you found yourself on edge. Regardless of the pressing matters at hand, your high lord insisted on hosting a dinner for his court and other high fae to publicly display the alliance between the Night Court and the Day Court. Standing next to Helion's chair in the center of the room, you observed the lively chatter among the gathered individuals.

Your hands were clasped tightly in front of you, nervously inspecting your gown for nonexistent dirt, attempting to conceal your jitters. The gown itself could remind anyone of the place you resided and wanted to consider your new home. It was an off-the-shoulder nude gown with gossamer sleeves cascading around your arms. The bodice, nearly transparent, accentuated your bust, adorned with soft gold crystals intricately arranged over your body. The long skirts consisted of layers of gossamer, featuring two long slits up the front that revealed your legs. You appeared ethereal and angelic.

"You seem on edge," Helion called out to you, pulling you out of your internal thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, observing every movement, before turning your attention to the main entrance. He gently traced his finger beneath the dainty black diamond bracelet adorning your wrist, bringing your attention back. This bracelet, along with matching pieces around your neck and ears, showed your affiliation with the visiting court. You wore them out of respect for your older cousins, never daring to show your true affection openly—a facade to conceal your true self. You knew they would appreciate it if they noticed.

"The Night Court was your home, was it not?" He questioned, his tone casual, as he glanced over his shoulder at the other members of the inner court to make sure they weren’t listening. Adjusting his shirt cuffs to his well-matched button-down very similar color to yours, he exuded regality from head to toe.

You mumbled stoically, "Was." Clearing your throat tentatively, your eyes returned to the main doors. "This is my home now, serving under your rule. I can't afford to be anything but cautious when the Night Court wishes to discuss an unknown matter."

You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled. "Always playing this game, aren't you?" Helion scolded playfully. “There's no need to keep up the act. Rhys's actions beneath the mountain spoke volumes for our court."

You thought to yourself, 'But my actions don't, and I'd rather keep it that way.' Aloud, you replied smoothly, "One can't appear too soft when the Night Court steps through that door." The lie slipped easily from your lips.

"Are we referring to the whole court now or the spymaster we both have eyes for?" Helion hummed, reclining slightly in his chair as he took a sip of fae wine from his chalice-like glass. Damn him.

"I have no eyes for any man, particularly not a brute Illyrian man. And especially not one I've been watching wrestle with my cousin since we were young children," you retorted, feeling a surge of unease and clenching your jaw at the assumption.

"That's a match I would give up all my powers to witness," the handsome, dark-skinned lord purred, his words aimed at you.

You wanted to snap at him, your patience wearing thin at the mere mention of the tall Illyrian warrior. However, you managed to keep your composure in check. "It's hardly a match; Rhys won every time."

As if on cue, you felt the energy of several individuals entering the palace. Rhysand always loved a dramatic entrance. "Excellent, our guests have arrived," you murmured, straightening your shoulders as best as you could.

Helion followed suit, sitting more upright in his chair at the center of the hall. The rest of the inner court took their positions standing.

The sentries opened the doors for the guests. Morrigan was the first to enter, her golden hair elegantly curled, and she delightedly took you in before blinking a few times, returning to her sultry expression. Her red gown fitted her perfectly: a strapless piece that flowed around her as she walked. Following her was a sight you hadn't expected since hearing the gossip from Mor—Lucien Vanserra, adorned in deep autumnal colors that complemented his complexion and long, tidy red hair. He was an old confidant of yours when you had stayed in the spring court. You couldn't help but find it amusing, but you maintained a composed demeanor, concealing your bemusement at how out of place in the night court he seemed.

After Lucien came two beautiful high fae women. The younger one on the left wore a flowing champagne pink gown that accentuated her slim waist and showcased her porcelain fair skin. Her light brown hair was adorned with crystals and flowers, and she wore dainty opal teardrop earrings that complimented her brown eyes. On the right stood another woman in a form-fitting navy dress that subtly shimmered with every movement. The gown highlighted her curves and bust, while a sapphire-like sciphon necklace adorned her neck. Her darker brown hair was elegantly pinned up with a silver circlet. These must have been the High Lady's sisters, Elain and Nesta, whom you had heard so much about. Nesta's eyes had a hint of danger and coldness, while Elain's were filled with awe as they observed the dining hall.

Cassian followed the two women, and you discreetly coughed to suppress a snort. He appeared cleaned up, wearing a navy tunic and dark linen pants, with his hair slicked back and neatly tied. This was a different version of him from the rugged general you were accustomed to, not dressed in his usual fighting leathers to a formal affair. His siphons were cleverly disguised as jewelry pieces, and he had politely tucked back his larger wings. He seemed out of place as much as Lucien, but his mischievous eyes locked with yours, indicating he might have had similar thoughts about you.

Before you could even see her, you sensed Amren's piercing gaze from behind Cassian's towering figure. Her glowing silver eyes held an inscrutable expression, and her lips formed a slight grimace. She wore her usual grey color in a slip gown that elegantly draped down in the front. Though not dressed as extravagantly as the others, her presence demanded attention. A touch of red lipstick and a slightly tousled hairstyle were enough to enhance her beauty. You could see the rest of Helion’s inner court murmur from your peripheral, the usual whispers about the millennia’s old creature stalking towards them.

Rhysand made his entrance with the high lady from beside him, exuding confidence and power. He wore his customary dark attire that accentuated his commanding presence. His violet eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment before he turned his attention to Helion. Feyre held her head high, a diadem hanging on the crown of her head, and her hair half up half down in loose waves. Her dress off the shoulder shone in sapphire crystals making it look like stars had been entwined on the gown. She was gorgeous as a mortal even when she was malnourished when you saw her under the mountain, but as a high fae she was even more devastating.

Last of the group, you spotted Azriel, his shadows swirling subtly around him, and your breath caught in your throat. His shadows slinked up his dark tunic clad shoulder seeming to whisper in his ear. He looked over at you making eye contact discreetly. His features were hard but something unreadable in his eyes as he observed you. You didn’t miss the slight bob of his throat as he looked quickly away to a distant corner in the room acting stoic. His hair was pushed back showing his sharp jawline, and you could see his tattoos peeking out his shirt. His silent and brooding presence always managed to unnerve you, unable to get a good read on what could’ve been going through his head. You refused to let your guard down, not wanting to think about the shadowsinger that stood mere feet away. This had been the first time you have seen each other in person since you were able to leave under the mountain.

The Night Court all stood in front of Helion, and he bowed his head in greeting. You did the same along with the rest of the inner court. The introductions began, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Helion gracefully welcomed his guests, exchanging pleasantries and acknowledging the significance of the meeting. You observed the interactions, keeping a blank face despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. It felt like you were looking into your old life from the outside watching the inner circle, and your heart ached for a second.

Eventually, it was time for you to step forward and join the introductions. As you approached Rhysand, his gaze never wavered from yours. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the past. You stood before him, your heart pounding, but your expression remained composed.

"High Lord Rhysand," you greeted him, keeping your tone neutral and titles formal. "It has been a while."

His voice was smooth as he responded, “Y/n, always a pleasure. Allow me to introduce my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”

You bowed respectfully to the High Lady. “I am in awe, Feyre Cursebreaker. What an honor to have you grace the Day Court with your presence.”

A smile graced her lips in response. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I have heard so much about you, Y/n.” She took your hands in hers, and you were taken aback by the warm informal gesture. Your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo adorning her hand and forearm, and in that moment, your heart swelled with joy for your cousin, and you dared to steal a glance at Rhys. His eyes were already fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle hints of tenderness and anticipation shining within them. You were so happy for him.

The formalities continued, and you exchanged polite words with Lucien, Elain, and Nesta. You longed for a chance to sit down and talk with them, to hear about their experiences since being freed from the cauldron. Your gaze wandered momentarily to Lucien, who stood near Morrigan, his amber eyes briefly glancing in your direction. A flicker of recognition passed between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of shared history. You had both suffered under the rule of the Spring Court, and it was a trauma you preferred to keep buried for now. But you couldn’t deny that you treasured the moments the young emissary had kept you sane within the trauma.

You stood next to Helion along with another Day Court emissary as Rhys, Amren, and Helion discussed some political topics. Deep down, you yearned for a moment alone with the inner circle, away from the prying eyes and expectations. But for now, you had to focus on the diplomatic matters at hand and navigate the complexities of the gathering. As the conversations flowed around you, you remained attentive, gathering information and assessing the dynamics between the courts.

Throughout the evening, conversations flowed, alliances were strengthened, and unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You played your part, engaging in polite conversation and maintaining the facade of an emissary, all the while battling the internal storm raging within you. It was beginning to wear on you though. Watching from afar at how Mor mingled with Nesta and Cassian. The Illyrian man had his arm around the oldest Archeon sister as they nodded and chuckled at Mor, and you wanted to smile. You had never expected Cassian finding a mate before you, but here you were.

A lot has changed since you had left indeed, and the longing you felt came back.

“You’re not my prisoner, you know. Feel free to mingle,” Helion’s voice chimed from behind, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that a bit informal?” you responded, sipping your glass of wine.

He arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “To talk at a party?” He snatched your wine from your hand.

You turned to face him, reaching for your half-filled glass that he held teasingly away from you. “Ah, don’t you think it’s a bit informal for an emissary to get drunk?” He added a playful spark in his eyes.

“To drink at a party?” You volleyed back, grinning mischievously as you continued your playful struggle for the glass.

“Why don’t you practice the talking part with Rhysand?” Helion suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It seems like he’s eager to have a word with his dear cousin.” He gestured subtly behind you, and amidst the revelry and banter, Rhysand and Feyre made their way toward you both. However, before you could react, your gaze caught Azriel’s intense hazel eyes from their table behind the approaching couple, where he sat next to Elain. His massive wings appeared tense and uncomfortably confined by the chair. Elain chatted with him, but it seemed his attention was elsewhere, fixated on you. His shadows still whispered in his ear as one crept across the table.You resisted the urge to shudder, maintaining your composure, and quickly turned your attention back to Helion, whose grin remained firmly in place.

“Helion, may we borrow Y/n for a moment?” Rhysand inquired, one eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering between you and Helion.

Helion practically pushed you into Feyre’s arms. “Go ahead, I was just informing her that she’s free from her duties until later!” he announced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as you realized his intent to encourage your mingling.

“Thank you, My Lord,” you replied, bowing your head with a touch of sarcasm. Rhysand extended his arm, and you looped yours through it, allowing him to guide you towards their table. A nervous gulp betrayed your anticipation.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her tone gentle and caring.

“May we speak on the balcony?” you requested, your voice filled with meekness.

“Of course, it’s getting a bit warm in here,” Rhysand agreed, leading the three of you towards the balcony bathed in soft faelight.

You all leaned casually against the balcony railing, observing the lively feast taking place inside.

"How's the Day Court treating you?" he asked in a relaxed tone, as if to put you at ease. Away from prying eyes, you felt your shoulders relax. It felt good to be with your cousin where you both didn’t have to wear a mask.

"Well," you replied, "the Day Court doesn't quite compare to the beauty of the Night Court, but the days are undeniably bright." You struggled to find a suitable comparison for the Day Court's allure to the Night Court.

Rhys and Feyre almost snorted out their wine, their amusement evident. "I wonder why," Rhys sarcastically murmured.

Choosing to ignore your cousin's comment, you continued, "I've been making progress translating some texts for the court, and delving into a lot of reading.”

It seemed as though the High Lord and Lady expected to hear more and urged you to continue, but they realized you had nothing more to share.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Wow, that sounds like quite a lot," he remarked. You could tell he wanted to throw a snide remark, but a warning look from his mate kept him at bay. Where was Feyre centuries ago when you always found to be the butt of your cousin's jokes?

You shrugged. "Keeps me distracted." From your vantage point, you had a perfect view of the inner circle's table. Mor, Amren, Azriel, Lucien, Nesta, and Cassian were all seated there, drinking and picking at their food. Helion even made sure Amren had a chalice of beast's blood. You missed being a part of that group, laughing and sharing moments with them. The only person in the Day Court you truly felt comfortable with was Helion, and even that remained behind closed doors.

"Come home," the words made your shoulders tense. It wasn't your cousin who had spoken, but Feyre. You looked at her, finding understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what you were going through.

Your gaze wandered back to the inner circle. Your eyes fell on Azriel, who was listening with a ghost of a smile on his lips, as Cassian animatedly spoke, his wings flaring about and nearly knocking over Lucien's wine glass. The group tried to hide their laughter while Amren scolded them. Azriel's shadows discreetly moved the glass out of Cassian's wingspan, hiding his amusement.

"They miss you," Rhys genuinely expressed. "I miss you, and even the House misses you." Tears welled up, tightening your throat. "He won’t say it out loud, but he misses you too."

You didn't need to be told who he was. You knew.

"I didn't even say goodbye," you spoke with a heavy heart, guilt washing over you.

"That was over fifty years ago, Y/n," Rhys reminded you gently.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We have texts for you to translate if it’s a means to keep you busy, we could even have you train with Madja. Want an apartment on the opposite side of town from the House of Wind? Consider it done. Desire a cottage in the middle of nowhere? It's yours. Just please, stop running away," Rhys pleaded.

You felt tears welling up, but you willed them away. "I... I just can't leave," you stammered. You could feel your heart torn.

"You can," Feyre said sympathetically, holding your hands. "Helion asked us to come and talk to you."

"We won't force you, but he mentioned that you've changed in the last few years," Rhys added. Feyre's grip on your hands tightened.

"Please talk to them maybe and think about it?" she requested. You knew she meant the inner circle.

Biting your lip, you contemplated. "I'll find you in a bit. I need some time alone."

With a nod, Rhysand and Feyre understood your need for solitude. They exchanged a brief glance before making their way back inside, leaving you alone on the balcony.

Leaning against the railing, you let the cool evening breeze brush against your skin, smell of wildflower and honey in the air, the quietness of the moment allowing your thoughts to swirl. Images of your past, the friendships you had forged and the bonds you had left behind, filled your mind. The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing second your family stood in the same room as you. A longing you pushed deep down when you were still under the mountain, uncertain of seeing your loved ones again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to not let tears slip. It was true that you had changed over the years, that the weight of your experiences had shaped you into someone different. But running away had only prolonged the pain, and you knew it was time to confront it. If your cousins had endured the pain, you were sure you could too.

Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the railing, determination igniting within you. You couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. The inner circle had always been your family, even if circumstances had driven you apart. And now, as you stood on the cusp of a decision, you realized that it was time to bridge that gap.

Stepping back inside, you navigated through the crowd, searching for the familiar faces you had missed dearly. You found them at their table, still engaged in their playful banter, laughter filling the air. Taking a deep breath, you approached, your footsteps faltering only slightly.

As you reached the table, a hush fell over the group, their gazes turning towards you. Azriel's eyes locked with yours, and the shadows around him seemed to ripple, as though mirroring the tumultuous emotions within you.

"Can I join you?" you asked softly, your voice carrying a blend of trepidation and hope.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cassian's boisterous laughter echoed as he clapped you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you. Nesta's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment, Elain offered a warm but wary smile, and Lucien's amber eyes held surprise. Morrigan's voice was a welcoming melody as she pulled out a chair for you, and Amren, in her own enigmatic way, nodded approvingly.

Taking your seat among them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. And as you settled into the comfort of their presence, you could feel your frozen heart just dethaw slightly.

“Y/n, I knew you were always shy, but around us?” Mor teased you endearingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look so beautiful tonight!” She gushed, her words filled with genuine admiration as she played with a strand of your hair. “The dress would be better in a darker color though.” She whispered the last part so only you and the inner circle could hear, her voice laced with a conspiratorial tone.

“The gown color does wash you out,” Amren chimed in, her bored expression not fully hiding a hint of amusement.

A laugh bubbled out of your chest, surprising even yourself. "Not the first thing I thought I would hear from you in years," you quipped, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Amren raise her glass to you before taking a sip of the thick liquid in the cup.

“Better than that raggedy spring court piece you came back in, though," Rhysand interjected, his voice filled with playful banter as he and Feyre settled into the extra seats at the table. The original inner circle chuckled at the memory.

Despite that being one of the worst days of your life, you couldn't help but smile too. The shared laughter brought a warmth to the air, softening the edges of past wounds.

“You should’ve seen the dress I came to the Night Court in," Feyre chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Another monstrosity by Ianthe," Lucien muttered into his glass before taking a sip, his voice tinged with a touch of disdain. Your eyes widened at the snide comment, but the group erupted into laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of your burdens.

As the night wore on, Helion raised his glass, signaling a toast to the alliance between the two courts. The hall fell silent, and you raised your glass as well, a faint smile playing at the corner of your lips. The toast created a joyous noise as everyone in attendance drank, and the music started playing. Mor instantly beamed and grabbed Feyre’s hand, followed by Elain, leading them to the dance floor. Rhysand and Lucien joined them, their steps filled with a carefree grace. Cassian took Nesta’s hand, and they followed suit. Amren excused herself to converse with the emissary from the Day Court with a request of Azriel to accompany her.

You turned to Mor, insisting you would join them shortly, as you wished to find Helion. She nodded understandingly, giving you a knowing smile as she disappeared into the swirling crowd. You made your way toward Helion, feeling the warmth of the night and the drinks starting to loosen your tongue and heart.

“Do you wish to get rid of me so easily?” you feigned offense, walking up to his side. The merriment of the evening had given you a newfound boldness. Your body hadn’t felt this light in ages. Your gaze met his, and a flicker of understanding passed between you.

Helion shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his features. “No, darling, never. I just think your heart belongs somewhere else.” His words were filled with gentle encouragement. He patted the arm of his chair, offering you a seat upon the rest. With an eye roll and a smile, you accepted, settling into the plush chair arm.

"Your presence is lovely, your duty is commendable, but I couldn't sit here watching you turn to stone any longer," Helion continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. His finger absentmindedly found the wrist under your bracelet, his touch a feather-light brush against your skin. A wave of warmth washed over you, and the faint scent of wildflowers drifted through the air.

"Besides, maybe it's time you face a certain Illyrian man," he whispered discreetly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion.

You looked at him, confusion swirling within you. His eyes subtly glanced over to the corner, and you followed his gaze. Azriel stood behind Amren, his intense gaze fixed on Helion and you. His jaw was clenched, and his wings were taut with tension, as if holding back an impending storm. The sight of him sent a jolt of both excitement and apprehension through your veins.

"I can't ignore those ravenous stares, knowing he wants to rip me to shreds, and not in the way I like," he added, teasingly toying with your bracelet as if oblivious to Azriel's presence. The Day Court High Lord knew exactly what he was doing it seemed. Azriel couldn’t have been glaring at Helion; it had to be you. Memories of your past argument with Azriel flashed through your mind, the intensity of the argument still fresh. You had both nearly destroyed each other. You hadn’t ever heard you two speak so many volatile and vulgar things— especially at each other.

"I could never forgive him for what he said," you sighed. "What's even worse is that I can't forgive myself for what I did, not only to him, but to my family. I feel responsible for my ex-husband's actions towards them." You admitted, realizing that you had never spoken those words aloud before.

Beside you, the lord sucked his teeth in retort. "You can't blame yourself for what your father put you through by selling you to that pretty little beast." He sat up straighter and looked at you earnestly. "Nobody blames you, Y/n." You found yourself unabashedly staring back at Azriel as he was still looking at the interaction between you and the high lord.

“We all carry burdens from our past, but we mustn't let them define our future," he said gently. "You were caught in a web spun by others, but you have the strength to break free. It's time to forgive yourself and embrace the healing you deserve."

You nodded nimbly, biting your lip in contemplation. You would always hold gratitude for Helion. His kindness you’ve experienced for the last several years was more than what you deserved and needed, but he still provided it. If you returned to the night court you wouldn’t have known where you stood in the court. What your rank would be, what your friends thought of you, and where to even pick back up in your life. You just knew you haven’t felt this alive in awhile, and you craved the feeling.

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[x] next chapter

Let me know your thoughts, and feel free to like and reblog! I might change the title but that’s tbd.

#acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #pofa #Lucien Vanserra x reader #lucien acotar #Cassian x reader #inner circle fic #morrigan #feyre archeron #a court of thrones and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #rhysand x reader #a court of thorns and roses fan fiction #azriel acotar #Cassian acotar #morrigan acotar #pro nesta #elain archeron #Amren acotar #inner circle #azriel shadowsinger fic #azriel shadowsinger fan fiction #azriel shadowsinger x reader imagine

[illyrian-dreamer]

With benefits

Cassian x reader

Summary: On a hike through the mountains with the other Valkyries, Cassian pushes you to breaking point. It isn’t until later that night that he shows you just how sorry he is...

NSFW - 18+ (minors DNI)

WELCOME TO DAY 2 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you to @sadiebluewin and @brekkershadowsinger for choosing tropes 4. Bed sharing and 14. Friends with benefits. I hope you enjoy this mix of Cass fluff, angst and spice!

Warnings: Sex (18+ minors DNI)

Words: 3,645

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Everything hurt. The muscles in your thighs burned with every step you took, your arms screaming in protest as you hauled your gear tighter on your back.

“Pick up the pace Y/N!” Cassian yelled ahead of the group, his figure small in the distance you were yet to make.

You were falling behind, you knew that. But everything was harder with your cycle so close. You could feel it coming – your energy was low, your breath was short, you were emotional beyond reason, and not to mention the excruciating horniness… Hiking with the other Valkyries in training sounded like a good idea at the time, but you were two days into the five-day journey, and had deep regrets.

Your boot caught a rock, causing your ankle to give out and bend underneath you. You yelped in pain and fell to your knees, your gear weighing you down as you felt sharp rocks scrape your palms as you landed.

“Let’s go!” Cassian called without so much as a thought to turn around and see you were down. You gritted your teeth – you would not cry. Sweat stinging in your eyes, your forced yourself up, taking one painful step after the other as you trailed up the mountain.

————

It was late afternoon by the time you reached the next landing. The rest of the group had arrived  well before you as you continued to struggle behind.

The sound of hammers hitting metal pegs filled your ears as the other Valkyries had rolled out their gear and were already pitching their tents. No one paid attention as you hauled yourself up the final step to the landing, practically throwing yourself with a grunt before rolling to collapse on the ground, your chest heaving in exhaustion and the tightness of the altitude. There was a screaming ache in your lower back, thanks to your oncoming cycle.

You just needed a moment to catch your breath. Closing your eyes, you let the sun warm you while the wind cool your sweat.

The light disappeared behind your lids, and you opened them to see Cassian towering over you, his arms folded and his face unimpressed.

“You’re late.”

Your eyes narrowed to a glare. Had he not noticed you were injured?

“The other’s are pitching their tents,” he said gruffly.

“I can see that,” you seethed. There was not a hint of the usually caring and kind friend you knew him to be – this was all War General.

“We’ll be practicing sword movements and cooling down before night.” Cassian turned his heel then, leaving you laying on the ground.

More training? In addition to the hike? You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to yell after him or throw an insult his way. This was part of his training style, and he had warned that the hike would be both physically and emotionally challenging. What you didn't count for was how hard your hormones would make it.

Groaning, you rolled over and slipped your arms out of your pack. You had to get your tent up before training began, you couldn’t fall behind any longer. You looked over at Cassian, who was now arranging the swords with Azriel, creating a make-shift training pit in the side of the mountain. In silent protest, you decided to pitch your tent far away from his.

————

“That’s it ladies, mind your step work! Keep it consistent!” Cassian strolled in front of you and the females in training, all of you lined up as you swung in unison. It took the very last bit of your energy to keep up, your ankle throbbing and your mind foggy with exhaustion. Not to mention the phantom cramps that would come and go.

Cassian stopped in front of you then, his hands behind his back as he eyed your movements.

“Feet shoulder width apart, Y/N,” he said coldly. You readjusted yourself and swung.

“Watch your right arm. Elbows in.” You cursed yourself – you knew better than that. Tucking your arm in, you swung again.

Cassian folded his arms across his chest, an unimpressed and displeased frown on his face. “Swing higher, Y/N. We don't have time for a half-assed effort!”

You held your position, your hands tightening around the sword in anger. “I’m trying,” you gritted in retort.

“Not nearly hard enough. First you fall behind on the hike, and now you’re barely marking your swings. How do you ever expect to become a Valkyrie?”

It was the straw that broke the camels back – he may as well had punched you in the gut. You blinked at him, dropping your stance as his words sunk in. Cassian stared back, his face the stern and strict.

You hated yourself for crying, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. The muscles in your face jerked as you tried to hold it in, before crumpling as tears fell freely.

It was Azriel who approached you then, his shadows providing a cold comfort as he gently took the sword from your hands. Cassian stared back, unmoving from his stance.

“Get into your starting position,” he instructed, pushing you one final time. But you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Enough, Cass,” Azriel said, his hand resting gently on your back. “Let her rest.”

Cas blinked back at his brother, not having realised how far he had taken it until his own brother had told him to stop. This was part of his training style, he had pushed you a lot harder than this before. Why had you broken now?

You kept your head low, trying to hide your face in the loose strands that fell from your braid. You were completely humiliated.

Azriel’s hand guided you to turn, and you walked away together, leaving Cassian dumbfounded.  The cold metal of your water flask was bought to your lips, Azriel silently offering you a drink. You sniffed, trying to regain yourself, letting the water soothe you.

“T-thanks Az,” you stuttered, unable to meet his eyes. “I don't know what’s going on with me.”

Azriel offered you a small smile. “We all have our days,” he said. “And that was an unfair thing for Cassian to say.”

You looked over your shoulder, seeing the other Valkyries had resumed their practice as Cassian returned to pacing in from of them, coaching and directing. He met your eyes then, and you looked away quickly. Coward, you cursed yourself.

You coughed, looking at your boots. “I think I’m going to turn in.”

Azriel frowned slightly. “Why don’t you stay out for dinner? You need to keep your energy up.”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “I’m feeling a bit nauseous actually. I’ll eat in the morning, thanks Az.” It wasn’t a complete lie, your PMS had your stomach churn after every meal of warmed beans and jerky, which was all that was offered on the hike.

Azriel nodded, letting you walk away as you unzipped the entrance to your own tent, collapsing onto your mat as you begged the mountain to swallow you whole.

————

A cold shiver ran down your spine for the umpteenth time, your teeth chattering as you hugged yourself closer. Wind whipped around the material of your tent, the poles bending as air ripped around you. It was loud, cold, and you were exhausted.

Sleep had not found you no matter how much you begged. You had listened to the group finish their training, listened to their muttered conversations and laughter while they ate before turning in.

You had tossed and turned at the words Cassian had barked at you. He could see you were falling behind, but had picked on you anyway. Where was his heart? You let silent angry tears fall down your face as you replayed the moment in your head over and over again, envious of the other Valkyries and how differently he treated them to you.

And now in the midst of a wind-storm, sleep seemed even further away.

You jumped at the sound of the zip to your tent. The movement was fast, rough, and uncalculated, all hinting to who it would be. Cassian’s head poked through, his long hair now unbound and he frowned at you.

“I can hear you teeth chattering all the way from my tent.”

You scowled back at him, leaning up on your elbows. “I’m fine.”

Cassian sighed. “Come back to my tent,” he offered, his voice soft and kind – exactly how you remembered him as a friend.

You scoffed, your anger from today still brewing. “And why would I do that?”

“Firstly, my tent is bigger, and warmer. Secondly, I didn't pitch it at the edge of the landing in the midst of a wind tunnel.”

Your cursed yourself – the small triumph you had felt setting your tent far away from his had cost you a nights sleep.

“C’mon Y/N, don't be stubborn. It’s freezing out here,” he said, reaching an arm through the entrance, offering his hand to you.

You huffed, turning in your covers, facing your back towards him as you tried to contain a shiver. “I said I'm fine Cass.”

You heard Cassian sigh, before a strong hands latched on your ankles and ripped you from your bed. You yelped in surprise, gawking at your General as he reached for your arms, pulling from your tent before throwing you over his shoulder.

“Cassian, what the fuck!?”

“Shhhhh!” He hushed sharply. “You’ll wake the others.”

“Are you insane??” A strong hand clamped over your mouth then.

You were at his tent in seconds, Cassian unfolding the entrance and raising his hand, ushering you inside. You rolled your eyes, before ducking inside.

Cassian was right – his tent was a lot bigger, likely to accomodate for his wings. It was warmer too, and the wind that ripped around your tent was now a gentle howl. You tried not to let it bother you.

Cassian rearranged his gear, making room as he pulled a second mat and sleeping gear next to his, his blankets messy from when he had come to get you. A small lantern glowed from the corner of the tent.

“Sleep here,” he said gruffly.

You looked at him, your arms still hugging yourself as you considered what he was saying. Were you really to sleep side-by-side the whole night? You tried to ignore the throbbing that started at that thought. Oh gods, what a time to be pre-cycle.

You sighed, crawling down to your mat as you pulled the covers over yourself, your back to him, begging for the warmth to reach you soon. You heard Cassian settle into his own mat, the sound his wings folding and he coughed, his breath slowing as he settled in.

“You’re angry with me.” Cassian’s words hung, the wind filling the silence as your eyes flung open. So you were doing this.

“Yes,” you said plainly.

Cassian breathed slowly, and you could hear him turn to his side before a gentle hand touched your shoulder.

“Look at me.”

You turned to him, your General, your coach, your trainer and your friend of many years. You bit your lip, stopping the tremble that threatened to start. “You were really hard on me today Cass,” you whispered, willing your voice not to break.

Cassian rested his head in his hand as he frowned deeply. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“It felt like you didn't care, and like I was a disappointment to you.”

His look softened as he cocked his head to level his eyes with yours. “Of course I care, Y/N. I’m strict for a reason, you know this. It’s all part of your training, this is how you build a warrior.”

You nodded, the tears welling in your eyes as you sniffed, breaking his stare as your looked anywhere but at him. “I know. Today was just… different.”

“How so?”

“It’s not important.” You weren't in the mood to go through the list of symptoms thanks to your PMS.

Cassian nodded, knowing not to push. “I’m sorry I upset you.” He placed a heavy hand on your shoulder then, rubbing your arm beneath the covers.

You shook your head, smiling softly as you blinked away the tears. “It’s ok Cass, really, it is.” He returned your smile, pulling his hand back. You felt a rush of sadness at that, intrusive thoughts taking over as you wished him to hold you, rock you, fuck you… You blinked, dismissing the thought quickly before it changed your scent.

“Let’s get some sleep,” you whispered while turning over to your side, catching Cassian’s frown before facing your back to him again.

Despite the new tent and new covers, it wasn't enough to stop the chatter in your teeth. Your toes were numb and your skin was prickled with goosebumps. You double-downed, pulling the covers tightly and clenching your eyes shut, wishing for warmth and sleep to come at last.

“I can feel you shaking,” Cassian stated, very matter of fact.

“Sorry,” you said back, willing yourself to stop. Nothing was working.

Before you knew it, Cassian draped a large arm over your middle, shuffling closer and pressing his large frame against your back. You froze, suppressing the urge to push up against him. You felt it then, the heat from his body radiating to yours, and you couldn't help but hum as your muscles relaxed, the pain beginning to ease.

Cassian’s warm breath fanned your neck, and you readjusted your arms to fold over his. It was more comfortable this way, you told yourself. However, the issue of your toes remained  – like tiny icicles at the ends of your feet. You readjusted yourself, pulling your legs back against his to try and get closer to the source…

“Stop doing that.”

You froze. “Doing what?”

“Wriggling.”

You snorted. “What, are you ticklish?”

“Not exactly,” he responded, his deep husky voice so close in your ear.

Your eyes widened with realisation. Despite your own insatiable hormone-fueled neediness, you had not intended that. But here you were, crotch to crotch with your friend the War General, and temptation beckoned you more than Cassian could ever know. So you moved closer to him, focusing on your hip movements, pressing against his…

Cassian let out a deep growl, his arm tightening around you. You shuddered in excitement.

“If you do that again, sweetheart, I swear–.”

“You swear what?”

Another growl from Cassian earned another wriggle from you. Despite pulling you tighter against him, Cassian’s voice was still stern. “I said stop that.”

“Make me.”

The sound Cassian let out then was a sin it itself – a half growl, half moan of desire. He closed the little distance that remained, pulling you flush against him as he ground his hips against you, no longer trying to hide his hardness as he used it as a tool against your ass.

A small whimper escaped you, your skin on fire with desire as hormones and lust clouded your better judgement. You didn't care if you were risking the relationship with your trainer, or long-time friend. You needed him – now.

You turned slightly, reaching behind you as your fingers found his long hair, A strong hand cupped your jaw, turning you more as you found each others lips in the dark. Cassian let out a sharp breath and his mouth covered yours, your noses brushing before resting against each others face as your tongues swirled and danced, both of you working your hips against each other at the same time.

His hand left your face, snaking down your stomach to cup you over your leggings. The feeling alone had you close to orgasm, and a moan escaped you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart?”

“Gods, yes Cass. Please,” your begged the male, reaching your own hand behind you, palming his cock from outside his sweatpants. Cassian jerked against you. “I want you inside of me.”

There was no need for foreplay, your core already drenched with desire. You were both dirty and sweaty from two days of hiking, and this would be rough, animalistic, heated sex. It was exactly what you needed.

You fished Cassian’s member from his pants, trying not to let his weight and size overwhelm you as he continued to kiss you. You rubbed your thumb over the head, wetness already seeping from him and he moaned into your mouth. You would do anything to hear him make that sound again.

Cassian pulled at your leggings roughly, desperate to expose you. You kicked them off, falling back into his arms as one cupped your core, the other kneading your breast. You moaned against him, the heat from his body and the warmth in your core had you feeling like you were on fire.

“Shh, pretty girl,” He whispered into you ear, before kissing the side of your neck. “We can't wake the others.”

You did your best to bite your lip as he lined at your entrance, but ultimately you didn’t care, you couldn't care. You’d wake the whole damn mountain with the intensity of your desire.

Cassian was big – bigger than you’d ever had. And you were thankful that your hormones provided the extra lubricant as he pressed at your entrance, ever so slowly filling you with his cock. You clenched your teeth, whimpering with a closed mouth as you clung to his arms that held you, Cassian stifling his own moans in your neck.

“Mmmph, Y/N. Gods you feel so warm and tight,” he whispered, his voice pained with controlled feral desire.

You couldn't answer, you couldn't even open your eyes as the heavenly sensation of being filled took over. Every part of your instincts begged him to fill you, your own vagina pulling him in deeper and deeper. Soon enough, he had quickly filled you to the brim.

It was not enough though. “Cassian, if you don't start moving right now,” you warned, your voice strained as you tried to hump back at him.

“Was just giving you a moment to get used to me, doll. But if you don’t need it–.”

“Fuck me right now.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. Cassian’s hand around your breast tightened, as he immediately thrust against you. A high pitched sound escaped you, and Cassian’s hand flew up to muffle it.

He started to move consistently, drawing back with long, slow strokes, the delightful stretch sending your nerves alight again and again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, take me,” he whispered into your air, his hand still clamped over your face as your eyes were wide with sex. You could barely move, Cassian held all the cards as he held you close and fucked you. You had never felt so horny in your entire existence.

The feral desire from both of you meant that the sex wouldn't last long, both of you rocking and moving together as you chased each other’s orgasm. Cassian’s thrusts turned from deep strokes to short, quick ones as he thrust into you, the sound of slapping bodies filling the tent. He was growling in your ear, and you melted against him, free to moan as he kept his hand to muffle the noises you were making.

“Cassian,” you tried to say against his hand, your voice a desperate, sensual cry. “Cassian, I’m going to cum.”

Cassian moaned at your words, his hips keeping their movement as he pulled his lips from where they sucked on your neck. “Yes, dollface, cum around my cock. Oh Gods, I’m going to fill you so deep.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” was all you could muster as he thrust again and again, your tunnel tightening as your reached your finish.

And then you came, liquid flooding around his cock as you squeezed him deep, ripples of pleasure flooding your body as wave after wave of ecstasy jerked through you. You cried out, eyes wider than before as you couldn't grasp the extent of your orgasm. Sex had never felt so good.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes Y/N. I’m cuming!” Cassian pushed all the way in, filling you that much further as you felt hot liquid spurt from him. He did his best to stifle his groans as he filled you with involuntary jerks, spilling himself in your depths.

You twitched against each other for sometime, riding the high of both your orgasms and enjoying each others heat.

“Doll, that was–“ Cassian began.

“I know,” you whispered back, your skin hot and flush as you basked in the afterglow of amazing sex.  Cassian turned you to face him, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. He pulled away, your noses touching as you both rest against your pillows, staring at each other.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiled at you. tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled back, your own fingers playing with one of his soft locks. “You’re handsome.”

Cassian’s smile grew into a grin. “I know.”

You snorted, smacking his arm. It was nice to know after what you had just done, he was still the playful male you knew and loved.

“What does this mean for us, doll? Because all I know is, we need to do that again.”

You bit your lip, staring up at the handsome Illyrian through your lashes. “I can't lose you as a friend, Cass.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “Friends then,” he said.

“With benefits,” you added with a wink.

Cassian grinned down at you, nudging your nose with his own before closing his lips over yours again.

“With knee-buckling, toe-curling, wing twitching benefits,” he spoke into your ear, before biting the lobe. You laughed against him, letting him pull against him as you fell into a warm and satisfying sleep.

--------

AN: Eeeep my first Cass smut! I hope you liked it 💓 Comment to join my tag lists ✨

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

#cassian #cassian smut #cassian fluff #cassian angst #acotar smut #cassian one shot #cassian x reader #cassian x injured reader #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar one shot #azriel #azriel acotar #cassian makes you cry #cassian mean #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fan fic #acotar fandom

[arson-09]

tonights acotar thoughts are with the Illyrian women and how rhysand has utterly failed them despite his supposed efforts

Hes ‘allowed’ them to become warriors if they wish. But thats not even the bare minimum. from my memory he acknowledges that he doesnt enforce the wing clipping laws (smooth move) so that’s basically useless and as to be expected of a man, he misses the point of feminism and equality laws. WHERE are the laws and protections for women in marriages?? if the illyrian are so ‘brutal’ and ‘backwards’ the assumption can be made that divorce isn’t a thing unless the man requests it. No women requested divorces and probably no such thing as no fault divorces. As well as forced marriages (which also brings up the consent age) Adding on, what about abortions and other pre natal and natal laws and protections? again, assuming women arent allowed to have abortions or simply any bodily autonomy, where are those decrees rhysand? Im not even getting into the potential of LGBTQ+ illyrians and their rights (Logically there are LGBTQ+ illyrians but ofc sjm wouldn’t mention them)

He makes such a fuss about it being a womans choice (a hypocrite as we see in acosf) yet unless a woman is able too or wants to fight he doesnt seem to care. Which is also a major flaw of sjms writing, women only gain their independence if they can kick ass and fuck as they want. Which is of course valid but thats a very shallow way to view feminism and equality. The whole point is that a woman can choose, wether its to be a warrior or a stay at home mother, but theres nothing done for those women who want that lifestyle.

This has influenced me in my fic writing a lot to where a this topic has become a major focal point in my fic somewhat by accident. I think that logically there would be a rebellion from mostly illyrian women against rhysand, hes promised them so much yet has delivered so little.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #anti rhysand #anti night court #anti inner circle #im not anti feyre but im disappointed in her character #sjm #sjm critical #an acotar thought exercise if you will #In my fic i have it planned that a prominent female illyrian revolts against rhysand lol #She along with her mates (yes mates) leads a large group of illyrian men women and lgbtq+ out to the spring court with tams help #Shes such a fun character to develop along with her mates and if i can work with my adhd i will hopefully be able to write about them in my #fic i ran out of characters fuck you tumblr let me yap #its late so forgive me for any grammer errors or mistagging #rhysand #this is also a genuine criticism guys i know how yall rhysie fans like to tussel

[jmoonjones]

Who knew the Dread Trove would have so many uses?!

Nesta decides to find some answers about plot holes, story moments worthy of side-eye, and her own character arc.

She also has a list of queries from the others including Feyre’s thoughts about her pregnancy journey, and Lucien asking if he did anything to piss her off since his character arc has been quite unfairly mean to him

#this is what the whole crossover story line is building to #my girl Nesta needs answers #May the sun shine on the beautiful fan fic writers who do this for us #give Nesta everything she asks for #I’m sorry this fandom has to put up with me #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta archeron #acotar fanart #acotar art #acosf #nesta #acotar fan art #nesta deserves better #pro nesta #just poking fun #Nesta is maybe the only character I’d trust this mission to

[mother-above]

The Golden Warrior | Chapter 8

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 8/?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: violence, death, swearing

*masterlist*

You kissed Azriel.

You kissed Azriel. Fucking. Shadowsinger.

And you have zero regrets.

The plan was to do anything to forget and prevent the bond from snapping with Tarquin. You hated making split decisions, but this worked perfectly in your favor. All thoughts of Tarquin and your nights together were smashed down into the depths of your memories. It’s been a day since the kiss, and you found yourself thinking about Azriel and how surprisingly soft his lips were for a hardened warrior.

You hadn’t seen him since that night, but you can imagine he was somewhere in the Night Court camps brooding in some dark tent. When you gave him the healer’s order not to fight in battle or fly until he was completely healed, he barely gave you resistance. Now that he’s had time to process the information, you were sure he was giving his High Lord a tough time about this. It must be torture knowing his friends and family were going into battle without him.

Thinking about Azriel’s well-being wholly consumed your mind because you ended up colliding with a tall figure. The apologetic smile slowly disappeared from your lips when you realized you had bumped into a grinning High Lord of Summer.

“What thoughts are occupying your brain, my lady,” said Tarquin teasingly. “It’s unlike you not to watch where you’re going.”

Even if he was poking fun at you, he still swept down to take your hand and kissed it in formal Dawn Court fashion. Your eyes almost popped out of your head as you watched his lips press against your skin.

“Tarquin! I- uh was just thinking about some preparations I must do for the battle,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

Tarquin gave you a lopsided grin. “I was on my way to speak to Thesan; would you like to accompany me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I was on my way to check on the distribution of the anti-faebane compound. I’ll catch up with you later!”

Without waiting for him to respond, you spun around and sped walked toward the other side of camp. You were actually on your way to speak to your cousin, the warriors Wyla and Bersk were tasked to oversee the distribution of the compound to the camps, but Tarquin didn’t need to know that. You looked down at the hand he kissed and squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. Tarquin was a good friend, why did the mate bond have to come and ruin everything?

***

The hot sun beat down as you took a sip of water, you were looking off onto the blue ocean while ignoring the humans' gazes boring holes into your wings. You and other fae who could winnow were winnowing humans from the villages beyond the Wall all day long. Some humans went willingly, and some were violent and had to be subdued with magic. You frowned as you watched a family in the corner looking a little green, their eldest son still throwing up. They threw an iron spear at you, and you flicked it off like it was nothing. It wasn’t long until they were feeling too sick to pathetically attempt to end your life.

Thankfully, Tarquin was too busy dealing with the refugees in his court so there was little chance of running into him. Looking around, you see the familiar form of Morrigan who was leaning against the stone ledge and admiring the view. The last time you saw her, she was a blubbering mess who kept thanking you for saving Cassian’s life. You stood next to her and Morrigan turned to smile, she reached over and gave you a quick hug.

“My favorite healer!” she said enthusiastically. “Isn’t it beautiful here? I wish the world was at peace so I could lounge on the beach.”

You laughed as you both wistfully looked at the picturesque scene before you. There were beaches all over Prythian, but nothing could beat Summer.

Morrigan examined the soft glow that emitted from you. She felt indebted to the Golden Warrior that stood next to her, without you, her family's world would have fallen apart. Mor also saw the work you’d done to Azriel’s wings, the thought of the Shadowsinger made her smile fade.

“You should know that Illyrian patient of yours is being incredibly stubborn,” said Mor. “He keeps bothering Rhysand and Madja to give him a pass to fight tomorrow.”

Shaking your head, you gave Mor a timid smile. “I was afraid that was going to happen. I had a feeling that even if I told Azriel he can’t fight, he’d try to negotiate.”

“We can all beg him not to fight but nothing is going to stop him from doing what he wants. It has come to the point where Rhysand started threatening Az that he would chain him onto a tree.”

Laughter bubbled from your lips at the image. “Do you think he’ll disobey Rhysand? Azriel doesn’t seem like the type to disobey his High Lord.”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Mor. “I tried talking to him… sometimes he listens to me so I’m hoping he will.”

“I didn’t think he’d be this stubborn!” you exclaimed. You knew how bad his wings were, if he tried to fly too early, one wrong move could permanently damage the nerves in his wings.

“You’d be surprised,” snorted Mor.

The sound of distinct whispers makes you straighten up and whip your head around. Your sudden movement caused Morrigan to finally notice the shadowsinger.

The spymaster approached with a smirk on his lips. “If you’re going to talk about me behind my back, at least try to do it discreetly.”

Azriel found it bizarre to see the two of you standing together and laughing. The female he had loved for five hundred years and the mate he knew would be easy to love. It was his two worlds colliding and his chest constricted with emotion. Two beautiful females who didn’t seem to want him. Azriel was sure the bond would snap the moment your lips touched but it didn’t, his little dove was still so scared and resistant.

 “Hi Azriel,” you said softly. Feeling a little shy from the kiss, you turned around and kept your eyes on the crashing waves.

He stood next to you and leaned against the stone. “It’s frustrating that I can never spy on you again. My shadows gave me away, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, it was your shadows and good! I told you there would be repercussions if you tried to do it again. You can always come talk to me, I thought we established that already.”

“I didn’t forget, my lady, it’s just fun to tease you. Your forehead scrunches up and you start threatening people,” said Azriel as he peered at your furrowed brows.

 “Then don’t say or do things to make me threaten you in the first place!” You scowled while you smoothed your skin upwards with your fingers.

Morrigan watched Azriel and you banter, and her eyes lit up as she studied the two of you. She felt like she was intruding so she excused herself to get back to winnowing the humans from the villages.

“How are you feeling?” asked Azriel. “You ready for tomorrow?”

For the first time since the kiss, you looked deeply into his hazel eyes. “I’m fucking terrified. I was told to stop winnowing the humans because the High Lords wanted me to be well-rested for the battle,” you paused and took a breath. “Thesan wants me to unleash every drop of magic I can to poison Hybern. I still don’t know if I can do it at that magnitude.

Azriel took in your words and leaned closer. “Do you want to know one of the first thoughts I had when I met you? I thought you were incredible and the more I learned about you, the more impressed I was. For 49 years, you held your entire court together without the support of a High Lord. That’s pretty fucking powerful.”

You sighed, “I don’t know, Azriel. I’m scared I won’t be strong enough. What I have to do tomorrow may decide which side the scale will tip.”

Azriel watched your furrowed brow slowly return. He wished you didn’t have to take on this much responsibility and wished he could be fighting by your side. His shadows must have been thinking the same thing because they drifted to you. The wisps danced around your wings or intertwined themselves in your hair.

“You are one of the best warriors I have ever seen. I have a feeling that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow, I know it.”

You smiled at his confidence in you. It was nice to hear it after days of self-deprecating thoughts about your power. “Speaking about warriors—are you going to be stubborn and fight tomorrow?”

Azriel’s jaw set as he shook his head. “I’m furious that I won’t be there to help my brothers, Feyre, Amren, Mor, and… you. Morrigan begged me not to fight and frankly, I’m scared how badly you’ll both kick my ass if I do.”

You laughed and Azriel smiled. He wanted to listen to your laughter forever.

Nudging his arm, you tell him not to worry even though you know tomorrow is going to be a bloodbath. Comfortable silence fell between you, the only thing you could hear was the rhythmic crashing of water. The salty air smelled heavenly against the scent of cedarwood, the scent reminding you of that night.

“Are we going to talk about the kiss?” you blurted.

He felt his heartbeat quicken. “You said it was to distract from your potential mate… did it work?”

Azriel refrained from asking more questions about who the male was. He was afraid that if he knew the answer, he might do something he would regret.

“I think so… but I kind of feel bad about it. I hope it wasn't confusing for you. I’ve been considering you a friend, and I don’t want the kiss to make it awkward for the both of us.”

Friend.

His heart sunk at the word. Azriel peered down at your hopeful gaze. You seemed genuine about wanting to keep the friendship and Azriel would never want to lose that. He would rather be your friend forever and keep you in his life than never having you at all. He still had hope that one day you’d grow to love him but for now, this was enough.

“Don’t feel bad. I’ll always be happy to help you out with whatever you need,” said Azriel.

You beamed up at him. “Likewise.”

The two of you had a rocky start but that’s how you knew this friendship was going to be a great one. He earned your trust, and you earned his.

***

The cold crisp air was welcoming as you glid through the sky. Today was the big day. Potentially your last day. Instead of getting that extra hour of sleep, you wanted to make sure you watched today’s sunrise. It was beautiful, it was like the Mother knew that for hundreds of thousands, it would be their last, so she blessed the dawn sky. Pastel pink, blue, and orange were all you could see. You closed your eyes and basked as you savored the soft warmth of the sun.

One last look at the sky and then you dove down to go meet Thesan and Callon for breakfast. Meals with your cousin and his lover were usually joyful and filled with laughter but today, everyone was trying not to cry. Thesan and Callon were the ones you trusted most in the world. They were your family and the thought of either of them dying today was unimaginable. If something were to happen, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You lost your parents, and you couldn’t lose someone again, Thesan and Callon were all you had.

You looked at Callon who held Thesan’s hand so tightly, his knuckles were white. Blinking back tears, you looked down and stirred your anti-faebane-laced coffee for the hundredth time. Callon would die to protect his High Lord, he would die to protect you. His loyalty to your family and the Court ran deep but even if he wasn’t, Callon loved you both so dearly. You were beginning to think all forms of love weren’t worth it. This hurt too much.

“My cousin, my second-in-command,” said Thesan gently. “If something happens to me in battle- “

You try to cut him off, but he gives you a look that silences you.

“You are the only living immediate relative of mine and the most powerful faerie in Dawn Court after me. Thanks to Rhysand and his knack for breaking the rules, if I die, you will be High Lady and I couldn’t be happier that the role will be passed to you.”

Feeling like a child again, your lips trembled. “That’s not going to happen because you’ll survive this. All of us will.”

Thesan glowed brighter, his familial love for you was overwhelming. He couldn’t stand the idea of leaving you alone again or the fact that you may leave him. “I don’t plan on dying today. I just want you to be prepared, that’s all.”

Tears finally escape and you don’t stop to wipe them. You nodded and looked at Thesan, “My power… I don’t know if I can do that much damage. I want to save as many Prythian lives as possible, but I don’t know if I can do this,” you said truthfully.

“When the shields are down and it’s time to unleash your poison, I want you to think about everything you care about. Think about me, Callon, and your friends. Think of all the humans and faeries you will protect. Think about the Dawn Court and all its beauty. That’s what you’re protecting and trust me, you’ll find that power.” His voice was deep and soothing, and every word hit you in your chest. Maybe you can do this. If High Lord Thesan believed in you, there should be no reason to doubt.

The battleground was a sight to see, the five courts and their legions were marching or winnowing in. Hybern was in the distance, their large numbers slowly gathering but you paid them no attention.

The golden armor felt cool against your skin, the helmet snug on your head, and the flat of your sheathed sword tapping your thigh as you walked amongst the Peregryn Battalion. Callon and Thesan had just finished their speeches to the soldiers, and they wanted to reserve the last one for the Golden Warrior. In the almost 50 years of Thesan’s absence from the throne, you were their leader, their Lady. They respected you and were honored to wear the same armor as you did.

They stood in attention as you made your way to the front, you gazed at the rows of soldiers with an aura of confidence and viciousness. The weeping lady from breakfast was long gone and was replaced with the fierce protector.

“May you all fly high and strike swiftly. May our blades and strength slay our enemies. May the Mother above protect us.” Your voice reverberated through the air. Everyone within a mile radius had their skin riddled with goosebumps as they felt your power radiate from you. “Hybern wants to take away the balance of our country and bring chaos. Let’s show them it’s not so easy to do so. Some of us may fall today, some of us may not. Fight hard and watch each other’s back, I will see you all on the other side.”

Last-minute preparations were being made while the rest of the court's armies were arriving. Callon handed you a scroll and told you to deliver it to the Illyrian General, your fae eyes tell you that winnowing would be faster. Honing on the image of Cassian, you winnowed next to him, but he didn’t immediately look at you, he was looking at the sight of Azriel handing the Truth Teller to Elain. You followed his eyes and realized that everyone was staring at Azriel and Elain.

Raising a brow, you tapped the scroll against Cassian’s chest to get his attention. “Callon wanted you to have this, I think it’s about flight formations.”

Shaking his head, he apologized and took the scroll from you.

“Why is everyone staring at them?” you asked peering at the Archeron sister you have yet to meet. She was looking at Azriel with big doe eyes and annoyance momentarily flared in your chest.

Cassian looked down at you and then back at Azriel. “Um—Azriel never lets anyone touch the Truth Teller. It’s just a strange sight, maybe he feels like his dagger would help her feel safer.”

You examined the doe-eyed fae, she looked like she had never held anything that sharp in her life.

It was then that Azriel’s shadows noticed your presence, they darted towards you, and you laughed when you heard their squeals of excitement. They floated around and whispered; they were admiring the golden armor that covered you. Azriel looked up and smiled when he saw you standing next to Cassian. He immediately limped his way to you, leaving the Archeron sister to curiously look at the newcomer with the white and gold wings.

You asked Cassian how his healing was, and Azriel rolled his eyes when Cassian pulled up his leathers showing you his toned abdomen with a giant scar running down the middle. You cast a hand over and smiled as you sensed that all his healing was done.

“You’re all good, but the scar might stay, it was too deep of a wound and--.”

“Don’t worry about it,” interrupted Cassian. “It’ll be a good reminder to follow orders. You know, I will never be able to thank you enough for saving my life. I wouldn’t be here without you, consider me indebted to you.”

You smiled at the General. “Make sure you survive; I’d like to take you up on that offer one day.”

Rhysand called Cassian over which left you and Azriel alone. You noticed he was still wearing Illyrian leathers and his siphons but no helmet in sight. He watched you notice the absence of his protective gear and he rolled his eyes at your approving nods.

“Have you come here to gloat and show off your armor?” joked Azriel.

“Ha. I’m not that cruel, Azriel. I can’t imagine how hard it is to stand back and do nothing,” you said sincerely. “I think it’ll make everyone feel better knowing you’re safe so in a way, you’re still helping.”

You looked at Elain who was holding Azriel’s dagger delicately, wary of the sharp parts.

“Cassian told me you have a name for that dagger, what was it again? Truth-something?”

“It’s Truth-Teller,” replied Azriel.

Blinking up at him, a small mischievous smile formed on your lips. “That’s dramatic. Do people get intimidated by that?” He looked so dumbfounded, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

“Actually,” he said with feigned defensiveness. “They do get intimidated by the dagger and my reputation. I guess you wouldn’t know about it because you’ve been living under a rock and can poison anyone and anything.”

Your head tipped back, and a hearty laugh comes out making Azriel grin. The entire morning had been filled with tears and stoicism, it felt good to laugh, it almost made you forget the battle was minutes away.

Azriel pointed to the ornate sword attached to your waist. “You can’t tell me something like that doesn’t have a name!”

You unsheathed the sword and brought it between you and Azriel. “You got me there,” you said as you tapped the three pearls near the hilt. “Her name is Deception, it used to be my father’s. He told me he called her Deception because she seems delicate and pretty but…when in the right hands, she’s also a killer and destroyer of armies.”

Azriel ran a scarred finger across the gold engravings on the blade. It was clean now but, in a few hours, it would be stained red.

“Just like her owner,” he said with a smirk.

A snort comes out and you quickly sheath the sword to distract from the reddening of your ears.

“I have to get back to the Peregryns, make sure we’re ready for the skies,” you said grimly.

Azriel swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyes scanning and committing every inch of your face to memory. He refused to believe this might be the last time he would see you. He wished you had more time, maybe...just maybe you might fall in love with him. Pushing away his useless dreams, Azriel looked at his beautiful mate.

“Please be careful,” said Azriel, his voice wavering slightly.

You were surprised by the emotion packed in his words; you swear his eyes were glistening. “I’ll be okay,” you reassured. “Just know that if I see you on the battlefield, I’ll fly down and kick your ass.”

Azriel’s lips twitched into a smile and then you winnowed, leaving a faint scent of lilacs.

Not too far away were the figures of Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre huddled by a supply caravan pretending to be in a conversation. Feyre had learned you were Azriel’s mate a couple of days after the males found out. Cassian was giddy at all hours of the day, Rhysand kept pestering Azriel, and whenever Feyre saw the shadowsinger, he would be engulfed in shadows with his eyes staring off into the distance. It didn’t take long before Feyre could coax the answers out of her mate.

Because Azriel was Azriel, they had no solid idea how your relationship was progressing. So when they heard your banter, they all bit back smiles, they’ve never heard him talk this much. It gave them even more reasons to fight for their future, and their family's happiness.

***

             The sheer size of Hybern’s army was staggering. There was no point trying to skew your perception to make you feel better. It was just a fact that Hybern had the larger army, but it didn’t mean Prythian didn’t have a few tricks up her sleeves.

The High Lords had ordered you to go to the front lines for the magic portion of the battle. Thesan didn’t like the idea of you standing too close to the Bone Carver, so he wanted you in the air. Your cousin was scared for you, but you were more concerned about how much power you could unleash.

You hovered close to the Bone Carver, curiosity making you look at the creature as he stared back at you with black eyes. Legends say he appeared differently to everyone and what you saw was a female. You weren’t sure if she was fae, she seemed otherworldly, beautiful, and ancient. She looked like death, not in the sense she looked ill and weak, she was death personified. You found that the longer you looked at her, the sense of dread rose like bile in your throat.

The Bone Carver could feel the sharp darkness from you and cocked its head. “Peculiar,” murmured the Bone Carver.

Before you could ask what he meant, something next to you materialized, with a hand on the hilt of your sword, you turned to see an even more terrifying creature.

Bryaxis.

You’ve heard scary stories about him in your youth, it was a creature that parents used to make their children behave. You remember only feeling safe from the creature once you learned it had been imprisoned in Night Court for centuries. Its dark shadowy figure loomed over you despite hovering a couple of feet from the ground. You heard shocked murmurs coming from both sides, no one was expecting this.

Steeling yourself, you looked at Bryaxis and dipped your head, even if you wanted to run for the hills. While glamoured, Bryaxis had the time to examine you, it felt that overwhelming power the Bone Carver talked about. There was something else, there was something familiar about you, but it couldn’t place it. You seemed too young to have met it before it was imprisoned.

You guess there was more excitement because next to the Bone Carver, appeared the Weaver. She was young and pretty unlike the stories you’ve heard of an old hag, meaning she must have feasted recently. She paid no attention to you; she was more occupied with the seemingly stunned Bone Carver.

“Golden warrior,” hissed Bryaxis.

The whisper of Bryaxis felt like insects crawling up your neck. You narrowed your eyes and looked at its terrifying face. You tried not to stare at its huge claws as it blinked and studied your figure.

“Yes?” You thanked the mother your voice didn’t tremble.

“If you are what I think you are, I have met you before,” hissed the creature. You weren’t even sure if its mouth was moving, you think it responded to you like a daemati.

“That’s impossible, I would have remembered.”

“No!” growled Bryaxis. “Not you, your predecessor.”

Your eyes widened at his admission. What did he mean? Has he met your parents? You asked but it ignored your questions. It started to whisper something nonsensical about war and killing as it looked toward the terrified Hybern soldiers.

Atop a grassy knoll, Azriel gawked as he watched you interact with the immortal creatures. Everyone around him sucked in a breath when he saw you speaking to Bryaxis. Rhysand could tell Azriel was itching to intervene, drag you away from danger so Rhys stood next to his brother.

What the hell is she doing? thought Azriel. Is she not scared?

He could tell both armies were watching you, some Prythians knew who you were but this set of Hybern soldiers were bewildered. Their soldiers probably couldn’t tell what was so special about this winged female, their shields preventing them from feeling your power. They wondered about your place amongst these dark immortal creatures. The soldiers in the front began to feel uneasy about the seemingly normal faerie.

The earth started to shake as the High Lords and Hybern started using their magic to take down the shields. Giving up on getting answers from Bryaxis, you took this as your cue to get ready. You flew high enough to the point where you could see most of Hybern’s army. Your wings flapped steadily as you looked forward and emptied your mind, ridding any feelings of uncertainty.

With your palms facing Hybern, you think of all the faeries you were protecting behind you. Gold and bronze light slowly leached from your skin and turned to wisps, each thought of your family, friends, and court made you glow brighter. The swirling wisps extended from your body and the enemy gulped at your display of power. Thesan, who was concentrating on using his magic to take down the shields grinned maniacally as he saw what his cousin was capable of.

Breathing deeply and slowly, you extended your arms out to the sides as more power gathered in your core. You think of the innocent children; faeries and humans who deserved a peaceful life ahead of them. The power that surged in and around you felt insane, you don’t think you’ve conjured this much energy in your entire life. You felt vicious and you were counting down the seconds you could get your hands on the Hybern bastards.

The moment you felt Hybern’s shield fall, you roared as power erupted from your body. The light you emitted was strong enough to blind a faerie if they didn’t close their eyes fast enough. Gold and bronze flung out as you slashed your arm in the air and then the screaming started. Your magic was faster than the dark creatures below you, so Hybern tasted your death first. Soldiers gurgled on their own blood as they bled from every orifice, some screamed in agony as their insides liquified, and others just dropped dead.

There was so much energy thrumming inside you and this time, something felt different, like you had unlocked a new ability. Out of instinct, you raised a hand, and a pulse of gold wisps hurtled towards the target. Moments before the blast hit Hybern, the wisps turned into a thick bronze mist that hung heavily in the air. You could barely see through the fog but when it cleared, a gasp escaped your lips. Piles of bodies lay unmoving on the ground; the mist had killed everything in its path forcing Hybern’s armies to split into two.

Hundreds of bodies turned into thousands, and the Court’s armies roared their war cries. Now that Bryaxis, Bone Carver and the Weaver had crossed enemy lines, the sounds of screams became louder. Prythian soldiers marched forward and began to fight. You stayed in the air sending blasts of your poison hoping it would reach and weaken those in the back. Once you felt your magic sputter, you fell back and flew to the Peregryn and Illyrian legions.

The Peregryn commander grasped your arm and brought you close. “Holy shit, y/n! I knew you could do it!” grinned Callon.

You panted and rested your head on Callon's shoulder for a moment. “I didn’t know I could do that!”

“I hope you have more fight in you, my lady. We start aerial attacks in 60 seconds.”

The wicked smile on your face was enough of an answer for Callon. You unsheathed Deception and poised your arm ready for anything.

The booming orders of Callon and Cassian first sent the archers and then the rest of the legions charging toward the Attors who were making their way toward you. Everything felt like a blur as the winged squadrons plummeted to the earth and took the fight to the ground. Magical shields were useless against ash arrows, forcing everyone to switch to physical shields. You were immediately splattered with blood, but you didn’t care as long as it wasn’t yours.

You moved in a deadly dance with anything that came close to you whether it was a soldier, Attor, or hound. It was rhythmic and sometimes you didn’t even have to think, it was all instinct. You spotted a squad of Peregryn warriors having trouble with Attors about a hundred feet into the air. With a twitch of your wings, you shot up to the sky and showed no mercy to the clawed creatures.

You were catching your breath and preparing to dive down into the fray when you swear you heard someone calling your name. Brows furrowed, you looked toward the Prythian side. You heard it again, it sounded desperate and guttural, and your wings and body felt compelled to follow the direction of the voice. A second later, you see Cassian with his flaring siphons shoot up near you and start flying as fast as he can toward Rhysand.

“What is he doing?” you murmured.

Then, something in the air shifted, something powerful and ominous from over the hill on the Hybern side. You looked back at Cassian’s frantic figure getting smaller in the distance.

Something was wrong and you didn’t like it.

“FALLBACK!” you roared. “FALLBACK!”

The Peregryns and Illyrians who heard immediately withdrew and followed you in the skies. You felt searing heat behind and just before a white light reached you, you thrusted your magic outwards creating a bubble of protection around the Peregryns and Illyrians closest to you. Those with siphons locked their magic into your shield at the same time. The siphon shields and your magic held on just long enough to hurtle you and those under your protection backward into the sky. Once your wings stabilized, you cried out in horror as you saw the ashes of thousands of Illyrians and Peregryns drift to the ground.

You wildly looked around for Callon, your eyes wide with fear as you scanned the disoriented Peregryns and Illyrians. It was Callon who found you, his hands reaching for your shoulders needing to see for himself you hadn’t been killed.

“Find Thesan,” ordered Callon, his voice desperate. “Dawn needs a future, and you are its future. Find Thesan and stick with him… I’ll feel better knowing you’re together.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Callon has never, ever spoken to you in that tone before. He respected your rank and title in the court and Dawn’s royal family. This was the voice of a commander who knew that whatever that blast was, was something you could not beat.

“But what about- “

“We’ll be okay, we’ll integrate with the Illyrians, and Wyla and Bersk can help me manage what's left of our legion,” said Callon. He paused; his eyes begging you to listen to him. “Please.”

With a nod goodbye, you turned around and sent out two sharp whistles. A second later, you heard Thesan’s response toward your left. You winnowed next to him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. In a similar fashion to Callon, he cradled your face and looked you over for injuries.

“I thought you were gone. The blast-- I thought I lost you,” said Thesan. He was panting from magical exhaustion and his eyes were glistening at the thought of your death.

Your lip trembled before you forced a smile onto your face. “I would be if you didn’t call my name.”

Thesan shook his head. “That wasn’t me… I mean I heard someone scream your name, but I was too busy holding the shields over the foot soldiers.”

“Then who was it?”

Thesan’s eyes flickered toward the shadow that discreetly held onto the shoulder of your armor. It was expertly placed, somewhere you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it.

“I don’t know,” replied Thesan. “It doesn’t matter now, what’s important is you’re here.”

Thesan filled you in on what was happening, he explained that Spring, Autumn, and human armies had joined in. Hybern was using the Cauldron to target the death gods which was one of the reasons why Thesan wanted you near him. It was strange to be on this side of the battle, the part where the High Lords and their second in command stayed back to delegate and fight only when needed.

Everywhere you looked was filled with chaos and death. Prythian armies were slowly getting overwhelmed and just when things couldn’t get worse, Rhysand sent out a magical warning that Hybern ships were approaching your side. Flying over to where Rhysand and his court were standing on the cliffside, you gathered your power and sent out bursts of poison toward their armada. You could hear the screams of agony and bodies dropping on the decks, but it wasn’t enough. Your power couldn’t reach that far out, and more ships were coming your way. Your magic reserves were always quick to restore but this was a battle, you were never going to have enough. Tapping into everything, you managed to conjure the bronze mist, but it was only enough to cover one ship.

You staggered forward, panting from exertion. Cassian placed a hand on your elbow and pulled you down to sit. “Rest,” he insisted. “You’re going to do more bad than good if you completely deplete yourself.”

You looked at him and saw the same guilt that you felt. You had both survived the blast and there was nothing you could do to change that.

Your gasps for breath were slowly turning into hyperventilating sobs. Until now, the shadow on your shoulder had stayed quiet to avoid detection. It chittered reassuring words but you were too occupied to notice.

“If I don’t do something we’re all going to die sooner or later,” you said bluntly.

Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta looked at each other solemnly, they knew you were right. Rhys almost called for Azriel to come back and be here with you, but he couldn’t, he needed Azriel to be within the northern flanks.

Concentrating on refilling your energy, you tried to block out the voices of Night Court and stared at the daunting sea. You had managed to take down fifteen ships, all of them crashing together now that there was no one to steer them. Your poison slowed Hybern but in thirty minutes, you were sure the rest would make their way to shore.

You were feeling completely hopeless until the sounds of horns announced the arrival of thousands of white-feathered Seraphim and countless warships from different nations. Their presence had tipped the scale, and it gave Prythian a fighting chance. With a renewed sense of energy and spirit, you and Thesan fought hard as the battle reached you.

It was interesting to fight amongst white-feathered fae, the Peregryns grinning whenever a Seraphim jumped in to help them. You fought wherever the battle would take you, sometimes next to Thesan or several feet above.

The smell of blood and screams of mercy overtook your senses and it began to get overwhelming again, the chaos never ending. You knew you were going to see Peregryns die, you thought you were prepared but you weren’t. Screaming in horror, you watched Wyla’s limp bloodied body dive toward the earth. She was one of the best warriors you had ever seen and now she was gone.

You don’t think you’ve stopped moving, one hand holding your sword and the other hand shooting magic. You would see a Prythian soldier faltering and either you or Thesan would send your magic to heal whatever it could.

Heal, stab, poison, slash, and heal again. It was a never-ending cycle, and you were beginning to think Hybern may be winning again. As long as Hybern had the Cauldron, you were afraid Prythian would fall. You overheard Feyre and Amren talking about going to the Caudron and you prayed to the Mother they had a plan.

You had just killed an Attor, its head was still in your hand as you watched its body plummet to the ground. A cry came out of your lips when you saw all High Lords had transformed into their monstrous beast forms. You saw an obsidian-winged beast, a golden-winged creature with razor-sharp talons but what made you stagger in the air was Thesan in his gold and white phoenix form. The beast form was the High Lords’ last case scenario, and this only meant one thing.

Prythian was losing.

Even if you were exhausted and bloody, you kept going. You refused to die today. You had dived into the Attor legion, killing swiftly and quickly. A glimmer of blue cobalt shined in the corner of your eye and when you turned to look, a gasp escaped your lips. Fighting alongside the obsidian beast and the white and gold phoenix was Azriel.

What the hel is he doing? Anger boiled within you at the sight of the blue-siphoned Illyrian. He’s not healed yet, he’s going to get hurt.

You noticed he was getting surrounded by Hybern creatures and before you could dive down, you felt claws grab onto your wings. Your eyes went wide as you tried to turn but it was too late, claws had dug into your back and left wing as if it were trying to rip your wing off. A blood-curdling scream erupted, and you flailed trying to get the creature with your sword. An Attor popped up in front of you and just as you tried to hit it with poison, something pierced into your stomach. Before it could fully drive in its dagger, something bright, scorching, and fiery flew close to you.

Then you were falling.

You couldn’t move, you had no control over the only thing that could stop you from falling to your death. Your hands reached out and clawed the air as if there was an invisible rope you could latch onto. Terrified panic was the only thing you felt, like many times before, you were alone and left to your own devices. No one was going to catch you.

All you could see was the blur of your arms and blood-stained wings as you hurtled to the ground.

It won’t be too long now, you thought. The impact will kill me.

There was nothing you could do so you closed your eyes.

a/n: Hello! Don't forget to comment and reblog, I love love love reading your thoughts and reactions! Thank you for reading :)

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #a court of wings and ruin #azriel #acomaf #azriel fan fic

[the-darkestminds]

A Dying Flame

Eris POV — my first fic

Heyyyyy friends. I decided to write the two scenes UTM from Eris’s POV where Lucien is being tormented and Eris is forced to watch. It can also be found here. I’ve never written anything before so be nice to me 😭 I took a few lines directly from ACOTAR to set the scene and make it as canon as possible, but the rest came from me. I tried to channel SJM's writing style as best I could. I am trash for Eris so I couldn’t resist. I hope you guys like it 🥲 title is dumb so I might change it. I am eternally grateful for any of you who choose to read the whole thing, I promise it’s not too long! 🙏

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Eris

I stood at the edge of the gathered crowd, struggling to keep the cool mask of indifference on my face as Amarantha once again had Lucien bound and on his knees before her. Would his torment never cease? He had never quite mastered the ability to keep his mouth shut, to leash his tongue until the moment it would best serve him. Lucien’s loud mouth had already cost him his left eye, plucked right from his head by Amarantha herself. Rage coursed through me at the role I was forced to play each day under this cursed mountain. How useless I’d become at protecting those I held most dear. 

Lucien and I had not exchanged honest words in over 30 years. I longed for the chance to speak to him alone, to beg him to hold his tongue so as not to draw Amarantha’s ire more than he already had. Not for the first time, I desperately wished for the daemati abilities the High Lord of Night possessed so that I might speak to Lucien privately. Abilities he was about to unleash upon my brother.  

Beside Lucien stood a small and ordinary mortal girl, likely Amarantha’s newest plaything to torture and discard.

“Her name?” Amarantha asked Tamlin, who didn’t reply. “I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien,” she purred.

Give up her name! I nearly begged him. To hell with the girl. Instead I heard myself say, “If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you.” The words tasted like poison on my tongue. My brothers chuckled from behind me.

Amarantha only smiled and nodded at Rhysand. He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly on Lucien, who hissed in pain.

I tensed as Rhysand began smiling faintly. Bastard. He was a loathsome, foul bastard. And though I knew he played a role and wore a mask as much as the rest of us, it didn’t stop me from hating him as he held Lucien’s mind in his clutches.

Lucien stiffened in pain. A groan slipped out of him, and– 

“Feyre!” the girl shouted. “My name is Feyre.” 

Lucien sagged on the ground, trembling. Relief shuttered through me, and I bared my teeth and snarled quietly at the girl to disguise the trembling in my hands, my legs. He was safe, for now. And no thanks to me. 

The conversation continued, but I let my mind drift far away. Tried to feel nothing as I attempted to calm my racing heart. I clenched my sweaty palms at my sides and allowed myself a quick glance at Lucien’s prone form. Alive–for now. 

I slipped back into the crowd as they dragged Feyre away. He was alive. I repeated this to myself as the cruelty continued through the night, as it did every night in this miserable place. Alive–as I sipped wine and smiled at the punishment the Attor was inflicting on the poor faeries Amarantha had singled out this evening. Alive, alive, alive a steady chant in my blood as the night wore on.

Alive.

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“Well, Feyre, your second trial has come.” I heard Amarantha smugly announce from her throne at the front of the room. A gnawing dread had been pooling in my gut for the last hour. I could only guess at what new horror she had in store for the girl, but I grew increasingly anxious when I did not see Lucien amongst the revelers. He tended to lurk in the shadows of the room, one eye on Tamlin, ever the loyal sentry. I couldn’t help the low snarl that escaped me at the thought. That Lucien was willing to risk his own life for the Spring Court brute. The faerie next to me skittered away at the sound.

I slowly made my way towards the gathered crowd. Faeries averted their eyes as I passed. It was a relief that I still commanded a modicum of fear from these leeches. Their fear of me was a weapon I wielded frequently.

Amarantha sat proudly on her throne. The Attor at her left, Tamlin braced stiffly behind her on her right. 

“Here, Feyre darling, you shall find your task. Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you’ll win. Select the wrong one to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I have given you an unfair advantage.” Something metallic groaned at the snap of her fingers. “That is,” she added with a snake-like smile, “if you can solve the puzzle in time.”

I had just gotten a glimpse of the girl when the floor where she was standing began to sink down, revealing a small chamber split in two by a metal grate.

I went rigid as I beheld the figure chained to the floor, previously hidden from view. A loud roaring began building in my head. My skin felt tight and hot as I saw that it was Lucien–Lucien, who would again be part of the night’s entertainment. Lucien wrenched at the chains binding him to the floor. I nearly puked on the throne room floor at the sight of it.

Only the many years of practice in my long immortal life stopped the cry of anguish from escaping me as burning spikes began to slowly lower towards Lucien from above. I was a fool. A wretched fool to think Amarantha was done torturing him. That she would not use his friendship with the girl again and again until she finally broke, or was dead, Lucien along with her. I made to take a step forward but then jerked to a stop. Nothing. There was nothing I could do to stop this without damning us both further. I would be forced to watch in silent agony as Lucien was slowly and painfully crushed under the weight of those red-hot spikes. 

I stared and stared at Lucien, only vaguely aware of the girl flailing and panicking in the chamber next to him. This was some new level of hell. My nightmare brought to life, one that I could not wake myself up from. 

“Answer it!” Lucien shouted, his voice hitched. My eyes burned, and I felt a cold drop of sweat begin to drip down my spine. Only sheer force of will kept the practiced smirk on my lips. The spikes lowered further.

“Just pick one!” Lucien shouted. He strained against the chains, panting frantically, eyes wide.

My brothers around me laughed gleefully, and I forced myself to join in, the sound a pitiful rasp in my ears. I was grateful that the crowd around me was thoroughly distracted by the horror unfolding before us. That they could not hear my pounding heart or the screaming inside my head as those molten spikes lowered another inch closer to Lucien’s body, helplessly chained to the floor. This was the true torture. Not the painful lashes I’d so often received from my father for disappointing him in one way or another. Not the loneliness and fear that threatened to crush me after so many years navigating the snake pit of my father’s court. But this. Forced to stand idly by as my loved ones were killed. Forced to hear the fear in Lucien’s voice as he begged the girl to just pick a lever and be unable to stop any of it.

“Feyre, please!” Lucien moaned. The terror in his voice nearly brought me to my knees. And yet I stood there like a statue. Maybe this was my punishment for being so useless. So worthless. I desperately wished I could take Lucien’s place. That it was me chained to the floor. I deserved it.

I held my breath and shut my eyes as the girl finally reached for the third lever, bracing myself for what was surely to come. 

Silence. Then–a sigh. From Lucien. 

I opened my eyes at the sound and choked down the sob building in my chest. The girl, Feyre, had actually done it. By dumb luck or fate, she had saved them both.

I did not stay to witness Amarantha’s reaction to the girl besting her once more. Could not stand to be there a minute longer. I turned, not seeing any of the faces around me, desperate to escape the swirl of both panic and relief pressing in on me, threatening to swallow me whole. I could not fall apart, not here.

I stumbled away to the back of the throne room and kept walking until I was alone in a darkened passageway, the sounds of jeering and wicked laughter slowly disappearing. I leaned heavily against the nearest wall and emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor. My eyes and throat burned and I let out the broken sob I had been holding in. I would allow myself one minute to fall apart, away from prying eyes. Just one minute, and then I would return to join in the merriment of those who had cheered as my brother had nearly been killed again.

I breathed in the damp, cold air of the mountain, my body shaking silently as I sunk to my knees. I listened to the drip, drip, drip of water on the stone floor and used it to slow my quaking heart. When the minute was up, I stood. Tunneled deep down inside until I could barely feel the rage and sorrow. I brought the smirk back to my mouth–it was second nature after all these years. I took one last deep breath, and turned back the way I had come. I had been gone too long, and these caves had eyes and ears that were always watching, always listening–always reporting back to her. And though Autumn Court fire burned in my veins, I forced my heart to freeze over, as cold as Kallias’s ice. I let that ice flow through me as I walked back–as I blocked out the despair that fought to drown me with every step I took. Until I was no one, and nothing. 

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A small part of me was aware that I was in shock. I drifted through the following day as if underwater, not fully hearing the words spoken to me or how I responded. Through it all, I made sure to keep the haughty mask on my face. Only when I spotted Lucien across the room did I feel as if I had come up briefly for air. Our eyes locked, and Lucien’s mouth tightened in displeasure. He held my gaze, emotion flickering in his right eye–there and then gone before I could decipher it. After a beat he looked away and was promptly swallowed up by the crowd.

I knew Lucien despised me. It was written on his face whenever he deigned to look me in the eyes, and I let him believe I felt the same. As much as it pained me to do so, I treated him as if he were nothing to me, no more than trash to be discarded. I hated myself more with each passing day–was at risk of being consumed by it entirely and slipping deep into the burning pit of fire within me. It was sheer defiance against the bitch queen that prevented me from doing so. The hope that I might one day see Autumn again. So many years trapped down in the dark were wearing heavy on my soul. The steady fear that I would fail those I sought to protect slowly ate away at me. What I’d give to breathe in the crisp, cool air of home, to walk amongst the red and gold leaves that sparkled like jewels in the dawn light. I held on to the hope that I would one day return. Tucked it deep down inside where it flickered softly, the aching pain in my heart its only companion.

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