Hi! Firat of all I hope you're doing well and safe. And second I saw that you take requests and I love azriel dearly 💖😅 So may I request for newly mated azriel×fem reader headcanons of just like jelous Azriel one shot 🥺 thank you so much!
Hey! Yeap I’m good now that school ended, I hope you’re doing good as well.
I really hope this is what you had in mind while sending me the request :)
Azriel thought today would be a nice, relaxing night out for him, the inner circle and his mate, his 𝑛𝑒𝑤 mate.
It had been only a month since they both accepted the bond and azriels instincts had been going crazy ever since.
His mind would scream to “protect” her at all costs.
He would go crazy every single time some pathetic male would flirt with her, hoping to get an invitation to her bed.
He would have little 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 talks with every single one of those males.
She was his, he was hers. No one had the right to flirt with her.
But he couldn’t blame them, she was... well stunning would be an understatement. Her body figure, her big innocent eyes, plump red lips and rosy cheeks. He swore she was every males dream. Which made everything worse for him and his Illyrian insticts.
Tonight there was this Illyrian male, he was sitting besides her at the bar, cracking jokes. But this males intentions were more than obvious to azriel.
He watched every single one of his movements carefully. He watched how he sifted his legs, how he raised his glass, how his eyes gazed lower and lower every time she averted her gaze, how his hands tried to get closer and closer.
He had had enough, had enough of This males hunger.
He started walking towards them, blood boiling, wings slightly flaring outwards in a protective stance.
She was laughing at something he said when azriel stood behind her, an arm wrapping around her dainty shoulders.
“Oh hey” she said with a too innocent smile. Azriel couldn’t be mad at her, not when he knew that she had no idea that this male was trying to get with her.
He game her a nod and a slight smile before he averted his gaze tot he male “Is there a problem?” Azriel asked the male, his eyes sparkling with a warning look.
The male stepped back slightly. He just moved his eyes from her to azriel. “No, why?” He said a bit too proudly for azriels liking.
Azriel smirked at the males bold tone. That male had either literally no idea to whom he was talking to or he was just that much of a fool.
“Azriel, what’s going on?” She asked sweetly, her head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowing.
“Nothing love” he said as he watched the males mouth taking the shape of an “O” before stepping backwards again.
Azriel smirked. “I’m sorry I didn’t know” he said. “Thought so” Azriel retorted while giving the male a feral look.
“I’m sorry sir” he said again before living.
Azriel watched him disappearing into the crowd, his shadows following the male, making sure he wouldn’t try anything else. As terrified as this male seemed when he left, azriel knew more about these female hungry Illyrian males and he wouldn’t risk it.
“Azriel?” She was beyond confused “it was nothing sweetheart” his too soft voice said as he kissed her temple squeezing her into his arms.
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So since I don’t have an official ship I read both elriel and gwynriel fan fic ( haven’t read much elucien, sorry, recommend any good ones please) but there’s something about elriel fics where the characters just feel off? Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy them, but for some reason I don’t picture the same characters as i do while reading the books, it’s like they give them different personalities, I don’t know it’s weird.
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Thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging and/or commenting on any of my posts.
🗝 KEY 🗝
🌈 = Multi Chapter
💗 = Fluff
💙 = Angst
💔 = Hurt / Comfort
🌶 = 18+ / Sexy / Spicy / Smut
Historical AU 💙 🌶
Drunk And In Love 💙
Dark Academia 💙
I Will Take Your Pain 💙 🌶
Romeo And Juliet (Part 1) 💙 Teach Me How To Fly (Part 2) 💗
Harry Potter AU 💙 💔
Elriel Month 2021 Masterlist
THE GAME - A series of connected Elriel one-shots.
The Pre Game - Elain and Azriel friendship fluff.
Your Lips On My Scars 💗
Round One : Let the Games Begin - Azriel trains Elain in secret.
Just Breathe 💗
Traveling Together 💗
Your Sacrifice 💗
Round Two : Spy Games - Adventures in spy training.
Field of Flowers 💙
Spies At Work 💔
Playing With Shadows 💗
Round Three : Endgame - Set after the "Solstice Incident"
Hold Your Hand While Dancing 💙
Meet Me In The Silence 💙
Your Ivy Grows 💗
The Distance Between Us 💙
Depth Of Your Eyes 💙
Baby, Kiss It Better 🌶
Explosion of Power 💙
Discovery Of The Bond 💙
Invisible String 💙
Against Your Morning Skin 💗 🌶
You Are Cordially Invited 💗
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Day 5: Choice
A Chance to choose
Author note: I want something like this to happen. Though I highly doubt she’d make a choice like this so fluffy. I do want Elain in the Elucien book to make this choice willingly.
Several months earlier, after Solstice night, Lucien visited her. Despite not having to, he cared for her when she was in need. He could have stayed in his room not bothering with her, Lucien could have gone after Azriel. But he didn't. Instead he went to make sure Elain was okay. Even if she had ignored him a thousand times before that, it did not matter. Her mate still showed. Since then, they have decided to talk and get to know one another.
She learned that night he would wait for her. Whenever she needed him, he would be there. If she didn't he wouldn't. Lucien fought against the power and urges in their bond to her. Even down to accepting it, regardless of how he felt. He left the ultimate choice in her hands.
She couldn't put into words how deeply moved she was by that truth. Rather than forcing her into accepting their bond, he would risk madness for Elain. No one had ever trusted nor given her such responsibility. To everyone she was just Elain. Gentle Heart, flower growing, sit pretty and smile Elain.
As Elain looked out over Velaris, she leaned her elbows against the rails and admired the cityscape below. Away from the celebration of Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. She was happy for her. For them both.
The moment Lucien left to speak with Rhys in private, Elain was completely alone. It was awkward sitting watching Cassian and Azriel laughing, clinking glasses together watching Nesta and her friends dancing happily. Or Feyre holding baby Nyx as Mor cooed over him.
It was like being stranded on an island. Seeing a boat full of people as you wave and shout for them to see you. Yet they never do. She needed to get away, to get some fresh air. Hence the cool night air and the balcony.
Within a short period of time, a comforting presence appeared. In greeting, Lucien ruffled his hair with his fingers and offered a low grin. Her mate resting his elbows on the railing the same way. The two enjoyed a few minutes standing like that, enjoying each other and the soft breeze. Elain didn't realize she was drifting towards him until he spoke, and his voice was closer than expected, nearly giving her goosebumps.
"You seemed lonely. I figured you could use some company."
A coy smile appeared on her lips as she laughed, "Oh my savior." She dead panned.
His eyes narrowed on her. "Would you rather be left alone?" He inquired. "I can leave." He added.
"Touchy are we?" Elain turned, watching everyone in the room dancing, drinking, laughing. It was as if she had always been on the outside. The only difference this time was she was not alone in her exclusion. Lucien was here.
As her pinky finger looped around his, she felt it. Lucien's heartbeat increased. A loud thrumming in her ear. Yet there something under the sped beat of her touch. That she knew had nothing to do with it.
A sinking anticipation of dread in him. He was waiting to deliver news something she wouldn't like. Elain watched him shift his stance, keeping a sharp focus on the city below.
"You're leaving." He did not respond. "When? Tomorrow?" He remained silent. "Tonight."
He sighed, putting pressure on her finger. "After the reception. Rhys has some leads on Koschei and needs Vassa to look into it because of the location. I'm to report back findings."
There have been plenty of times he's left and come back. Now after being in that room alone where no one glanced at her she felt worlds away from the celebration. Elain felt a heaviness in her chest. It was difficult to breathe. Her stomach twisted. She wasn't ready to be without him for days on end. She didn't want him to leave.
It didn’t help that all evening a small part of her wondered if she didn't show. Would they have noticed? Would they have cared? A tightening sensation went through her body. It wasn't something she wanted to know. Elain glanced sideways at Lucien. The tight feeling loosened replaced with warmth and a serene feeling. He would notice. He would care.
"How long?" He shrugged. A while then she guessed. That's what he usually meant when he shrugged. It all depended on when he would get his intel.
After a brief pause, she replied, "I see." Elain pulled her finger away. "Going to leave without saying goodbye to your lady?" she teased, "I'll take my finger back, thanks.".
Lucien let go briefly, sliding his warm palm over his interlacing fingers as he clicked his tongue. "Aren't mortals taught manners?"
He spun her around, skirt swirling around her like a lavender wind. As his hand touched her waist, hers touched his shoulder. Neither spoke, instead glancing away shyly. Never letting go. Being this close to him. A feeling of warmth against her own body. His breath grazed her temple and she felt in it the small hairs that fell around her face.
Lucien did not move. Only watched her to see if Elain would back away from their sudden closeness. It was her choice. Either to stay like this or to move away. Always letting her set the pace. She glanced at his mouth to his eyes noting the hesitance in them until she nodded. Elain swore he let out a breath of relief before speaking.
They swayed and he led her in a waltz across the floor. "Would my lady like a dance as a farewell?" he asked. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, his nose crinkled. "What?"
"You dance." She said with a shocking revelation.
His gaze was fixed on her, face scrunched up. “As a high lord's son, it should come as no surprise that I can dance." His eyes shone with mischief as he smirked. "Apologies. I forgot you thought we were barbarians who sucked the souls of children."
"Stop it." She shoved his shoulder, "You're shameless." Elain resisted leaning into him, under his chin to laugh. "and you are a heathen. You have yet to compliment me the entire evening."
It's hard to put into words how beautiful you are and what it does to me." Her cheeks warmed as Lucien clasped a hand around hers. Another slid over the chiffon bodice to the swell of her back. Taking the lead, he waltzed with a swiftness and elegance that suited a regal prince. They moved in step. Elain couldn’t remember the last time she danced like this. Certainly never under the stars. This didn’t feel like dancing as he spun her round and around. To her it was like dancing on clouds. Perhaps it made no sense if she described it as such but to her it did.
Just the two of them out here. To Elain, being outside of the inner circle and away from the Velaris residents felt right. It made her wonder if Feyre or Nesta felt the same way about their mates. A sense of belonging, togetherness and damn the rest of the world. It struck her, like a thorn pricking her skin. She didn't have to be alone here without him. Her heart caught with her mind unable to stop the words.
"Take me with you." She blurted out. Lucien froze their waltz coming to an abrupt halt, cocking his head and staring at her like it was the first time he laid eyes on his mate. "Take me with you." Her voice was more confident this time. "Please. I want to go."
"Not that I’m opposed. But what about your sisters?"
Elain turned, slipping her arm into his. Both of them are now watching the crowd. "Look at them."
No one noticed they were outside. They were the outcasts here in Velaris. It was a thought she battled with since first arriving after being turned fae. One she constantly shoved away. This night, these past months spending all the time she could with her mate. She knew it was true. She didn't belong here. Neither did Lucien.
"Feyre has a family now." She gestured to Feyre. Her little sister who had done and given so much for them, for everyone danced with Rhys. While Baby Nyx was secured in a wrap on her chest, he slept soundly regardless of the crowd around them. The bond they shared shined brightly between the two as he spun her and she laughed. Gods she smiled and laughed so much these days. Her sister deserved every single one.
“And Nesta. She doesn’t need me.” There in the center of the dancefloor with Cassian stood Nesta. Her arms around his neck as he held her close to him. He kissed the side of her head as they swayed. Elain saw the slight shake in her shoulders like she was crying. Before his wings cocooned them in Elain caught a glimpse. Nesta’s forehead to his, Cassian cupping her cheeks. The Illyrian general paused then kissed his mate. Nesta tugged him to her as the wings blocked them out. There was nothing but pride in her heart for the oldest Archeron sister. Who grew up shielding herself from everyone, including Elain. And she did it with ice in her heart.
Now, Nesta was openly crying at her ceremony. It was thanks to Cassian, and her new friends who thawed that ice. Most importantly, herself.
Elain wanted that. The happiness, the love, and the freedom that came with it. She wouldn’t have it here.
"And all their friends." Elain shifted her attention to Amren and Varian drinking and Mor smiling and blushing at Nesta’s friend, Emerie who grinned shyly back. Even Nuala and Cerridwen stayed together. Azriel, thank the cauldron, left with Nesta’s friend. The priestess named Gwyn. Elain didn’t know much about her. Except she was a Valkyrie and worked in the library. The way she looked at him when he took her in his arms ready to fly off and how he looked at her. She didn’t need her seer powers to know there was something brewing that could turn into something just as lovely as what his brothers had. Not for the first time was she thankful nothing happened that night.
"While I’m happy for them, they don't need me here and I don’t belong here. It's time I find my own way." She turned to face Lucien who was already looking at her. Scanning her features looking for some hint of a ruse, she realized. "My own happiness and friends." Her hands splayed on his tunic while smiling brightly up at him. With you.
"You go with me and I don’t know when you will see them again." Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. "Not to say I wouldn't love it. For you to come with me. Only we never talked about it and I want you to be sure."
Choice. Again he was giving her the choice to back out by telling her this.
"I've made a lot of foolish choices in my life. You know this." She cupped his cheek. The padding of her thumb traced his scar. "This is the first I'm choosing for myself. Not for a rebellious act or because of what was expected of me. But because I want this." I want you
“I’m choosing to go with you.” His hand wrapped around hers. "Then let's break the news."
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Marry Me | Part 1
Feysand Modern AU | Friends to Lovers
Based on the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett
“You’re engaged?” Rhys was going to be sick. Had he heard Feyre right? His eyes flew to her left hand where, sure enough, a giant diamond sat on her ring finger. They’d been at lunch for over an hour…how had he not noticed that?
Say something. The voice in his head wouldn’t shut up. She said yes and you have to be happy for her.
How could he be happy when the girl he’d been in love with for years just told him she’s marrying another man? He knew things between Feyre and Tamlin were somewhat serious, but he hadn’t expected this. Feyre was suddenly getting married and Rhys couldn’t even hold down a relationship for more than two months.
Because you’re in love with Feyre. Damn. He really needed to have a chat with his own mind. It always called his bullshit.
“Well, congratulations, Feyre.” The words tasted like acid on his tongue, but he still managed to rise from the booth to wrap Feyre in a hug.
“Thank you.” she mumbled against his chest.
Rhys held Feyre close, closer than he probably should, but who the hell cared? It looked like he was going lose her in a few months anyway. He was certain things would change when Feyre and Tamlin were married. Tamlin always loathed the amount of time Feyre spent with Rhys, and he was certain Tamlin would find ways of keeping Feyre to himself.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked, pulling back to look into her blue-grey blue eyes. Rhys expected that most newly engaged women practically glowed with joy. Why did Feyre look apprehensive? “Yes.” Was all she said.
“Then I’m happy for you, Feyre.” Rhys said as he settled back into the booth across from Feyre. Rhys tried to bite back an insult towards Tamlin, but Feyre knew him better than that. The arch of her brow sent the rest of his thought tumbling from his lips. “I still think Mightier-Than-Thou Tamlin is a bit of a prick, but...”
“Annd there it is.” she chuckled, shaking her head at him.
“Hey.” Rhys reached across the table to take hold of Feyre’s hand. “He makes you happy right?”
A strange look passed across Feyre’s face, but it was gone in an instant. Maybe he’d just imagined it. “He does.” she said quietly.
“As long as he makes you truly happy, then I support you, Feyre. I’ll always have your back. You know that.” He squeezed her hand for emphasis. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” It wasn’t a total lie. Feyre’s happiness mattered to him more than anything, even if her happiness didn’t depend on him.
“When’s the wedding?” he asked. Rhys kept hold of Feyre’s hand across the table, not ready to let her go quite yet.
“We’re thinking of pulling something together pretty quick. Maybe in a month or so.”
“A month. Right.”
“You’ll be there won’t you?” she asked. Everything within Rhys screamed no, but he could never hurt Feyre that way. Those big blue eyes of hers said her world would shatter if she thought he didn’t support her.
“Yeah, Feyre. I’ll be there.” Her smile was worth his pain. At least that’s what Rhys told himself as he walked Feyre to her car and watched her drive away. It felt as if the earth was tilting, shifting, cracking beneath his feet. Rhys thought he had plenty of time to tell Feyre how he felt…but it looked like time had run out. He’d kept his feelings for Feyre to himself when he should have shouted it from the rooftops.
Looking back, there were a million things he’d change, but one regret rose above all the rest. Rhys had broken a promise to Feyre; a promise that she likely didn’t remember, but that he thought about every single day.
(Five years ago)
Every man in this club deserves to die. Rhys couldn’t stop the violent thought from scrambling to the forefront of his brain.
It was Feyre’s twenty-first birthday and she’d begged Rhys to take her out to a dance club to celebrate. Rhys had never been very good at refusing Feyre, so he found the most popular club in the city to take her to. Rhys was having the time of his life dancing, laughing, and drinking with Feyre and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her the entire night. Unfortunately, neither had every other man in the club. Every few minutes he’d catch the eye of another man over the top of her head, staring at her ass in those skin-tight jeans or at her chest in the low-cut white crop top. These men looked at her like she was a prize to be won or a quest to be conquered which made Rhys’s blood boil. Naturally, Rhys spent most of the night discreetly defending her honor.
“One more shot!” Feyre yelled, holding up her shot of tequila like it was a trophy before tilting her head back to down it. The disgusted face she made afterwards was so priceless that Rhys just about fell off his barstool from laughing so hard. “Oh god, what the hell was that?” she asked.
“You drank the whole bar out of your favorite kind of tequila. That’s all they had left!” he wheezed, clutching his stomach.
“Damn, I need to dance that one off.” Feyre hiccuped as she made her way back to the dance floor. Rhys trailed behind her and stayed close as she started to sway to the beat again. Rhys had just started to move with her when a stranger came up behind Feyre, placing his hands dangerously low on her hips and his head in the crook of her neck.
“Hey gorgeous, you lookin’ for a dance partner?” he slurred in her ear.
What. The. Fuck? Feyre froze and her eyes immediately shot to Rhys as the frat boy pressed in closer to her back. Rhys practically saw red. “No, she isn’t.” he growled, pushing the handsy newcomer off of Feyre who drifted back to his side.
Frat Boy narrowed his eyes. “Whatever dude. You haven’t made a move all night long. A woman like her doesn’t wear an outfit like that unless she’s looking to get laid. You don’t seem willing, but I sure am.”
“What did you just say?” Rhys asked coldly, stepping toe to toe with Frat Boy. He was seconds away from decking the fucker in the face when he felt a light touch on his chest. He looked down to see Feyre pushing him back slightly as she laced her fingers with his.
“Actually, you’re mistaken, this is my boyfriend.” Feyre said harshly. Rhys’s gaze snapped to Feyre’s and she silently pleaded with him to go along the ruse. Once his initial shock wore off, Rhys wrapped an arm around Feyre’s waist and pulled her into his side before looking back at Frat Boy whose entire face was bright red from anger. Or maybe it was embarrassment. Who the hell cared anymore? All Rhys could focus on was how right Feyre felt in his arms.
Frat Boy looked between them a few more times before turning away, and Feyre giggled as she twisted to face Rhys. “Thanks for going along with that.” she whisper-shouted. Feyre had no concept of pitch when she was drunk.
“I almost knocked that fucker out.” Rhys growled.
“I know! That’s why I had to intervene! I realllly didn’t want you to get arrested on my birthday.” she giggled. As she looked up at Rhys with those big blue eyes, a strange feeling crept into his chest; a feeling he’d felt on and off for years but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.
Feyre stood up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear and unintentionally pressed her breasts against his chest. Rhys almost moaned out loud. “I think we should keep pretending like you’re my boyfriend. You know, just for show so no one tries that again.” she explained. Rhys was sure that was the best fucking idea she’d ever had.
“You got it, Feyre.” he grinned. Within the circle of his arms, Feyre began to move to the music again, slowly and expertly. Rhys felt like he was in a dream; she was all he could see. Her golden-brown hair whirled around him as she danced, and every once in a while, he would catch a glimpse of her bright, infectious smile. He was so fucking done for.
When Feyre stopped dancing a few songs later and began to sway on her feet, Rhys knew she was ready to go home. He helped her over to a booth and left for just a few minutes to close out their tab. When Rhys got back, Feyre was passed out in the booth. He’d seen this coming; Feyre had always been a sleepy drunk. Without a second thought, he lifted her in his arms, and made his way through the crowd towards the door.
As the cool night air met them, Feyre snuggled closer and buried her face into Rhys’s neck. Feyre had fallen asleep against him countless times, but this was somehow different. The bare skin of her back felt like a brand against his arm and sent shockwaves of heat throughout his entire body. What in the actual fuck was his problem? Feyre was his best friend and yet it felt as if his entire existence suddenly revolved around keeping her close to him for as long as possible.
“You know, you were the best fake boyfriend.” Feyre mumbled against his neck. “I bet you’d be the best fake husband too.” Rhys almost tripped over his own feet.
“You think so?” he asked quietly, desperate to know what else she was thinking.
“I know so. Maybe we should get married.” she sighed.
“Is that what you want Feyre? For me to marry you?” Rhys held his breath as he waited for her response that would never come. Feyre was asleep again. He knew she wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow, but he would. Rhys would likely remember this conversation for the rest of his life.
As Rhys held his best friend of ten years in his arms, he knew one thing for certain. He was in love with Feyre Archeron.
“I’ll marry you one day, Feyre darling.” he whispered softly.
This idea came to me in the middle of the night and demanded to be written! Planning on three parts for this fic. Hope you enjoy!
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
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Protectors of Illyria
Pairing: Lord Devlon x OC/Reader!ArcheronSister
Summary: Mira Archeron’s life changed the day she was forced into the Cauldron. In order to find meaning in her new life, she becomes the Night Court’s emissary to Illyria while training to become a formidable warrior under the watchful eye of Lord Devlon.
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: canon typical violence, sweating, a deer dies (not very descriptive)
A/N: Hello Lovelies! Sorry this chapter was late this week was hectic. Anyways we are really kicking it into gear plot wise and the fun has arrived. Im super pumped about this chapter and all the ones to come. Let me know what you think! I love to hear from everyone because I love this story so hearing your thoughts makes me happy. If you wanna be tagged let me know! Also p.s. see if you can spot the hints of secondary character romance in this chapter.
“Whoever decided on this time should be punched,” I said through a wide yawn.
Balthazar chuckled and passed me a plate of food. Waking up this morning hadn’t exactly gone well. I woke up to Balthazar screeching, “Mira get up! You are about to miss breakfast.” Since I kept insisting I would only be five more minutes. Needless to say the mention of food got me moving. Seconds later I’d burst out of my tent, struggling to shove my foot into my boot.
Breakfast wasn’t huge, just some eggs and a piece of bread, but it was filling nonetheless. The sun was just cresting over the horizon, splashing orange and red across the sky, as we wrapped up breakfast and prepared to head out.
“What do you think of being teamed up with Vex today,” I said.
Balthazar shrugged. “I don’t know really.” Balthazar paused. “Honestly, he’s never been that bad. Even when we were growing up he was annoying but never mean. A little arrogant, sure, but what Illyrian isn’t.”
“You can say that again,” I scoffed. Balthazar smiled broadly and elbowed me in the ribs.
Leaves crunched as Balthazar and I made our way over to Vex and Lord Devlon. Vex’s face was scrunched up in what could only be called disgust as Lord Devlon talked to him. They began arguing heatedly about something but stopped when they noticed us approaching.
Ignoring Lord Devlon, I focused my gaze on Vex. From the soul-piercing glare Vex was giving me I assumed Lord Devlon told him the plan for today. He didn’t appear thrilled at the idea of spending the day hunting with me and not at the side of Lord Devlon, kissing his ass. Should be fun hunting with a grumpy Illyrian male all day. Not.
“You better be ready cause I’m not in the mood to wait around,” Vex said. Balthazar’s entitled to his own opinion but Vex had asshole written all over his face right now.
“You still pissy I kicked your ass my first day in camp? Maybe if you took your head out of your ass more often, you wouldn’t get your ass handed to you,” I shot at Vex. Lord Devlon quickly interrupted before Vex could escalate the argument.
“Vex,” Lord Devlon growled, “remember what I said.” With a sharp look at Vex, Lord Devlon turned and walked away.
“You take her,” Vex said to Balthazar before he shot into the sky.
“Well he’s pleasant this morning,” Balthazar said. He scooped me into his arms, preparing to fly away.
“So much for your ‘annoying not mean’ comments,” I said.
“Fair point. It would’ve been nice if he at least pretended he didn’t totally hate you.” With a swift beat of his wings, we were airborne. Balthazar informed me as we flew that Illyrians hunted from the sky. They scouted for prey from the air. Once they sighted something, they dove and stalked from the ground. Since Illyrians lived off the land, not trade, they tried to preserve the ecosystem. That meant that Illyrians only killed what they needed and never more.
Eventually, we fell into a comfortable silence. My mind wandered to my time with the Illyrians so far. Night Court Fae said the Illyrians were a cold, cruel people. That wasn’t the case though. The Windhaven Illyrians proved themselves to be a strong yet considerate group of fae who appreciated the sacrifices that allowed their community to flourish. Balthazar said that hunting trips were used to teach young Illyrians how to cope with death since it would become a fixture in their lives.
I smiled when I spied Ramiel in the distance. My heart swelled with pride for Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. They proved to the Illyrians that females were just as capable as males. Gender stereotypes be damned. We caught up to Vex once we reached our hunting zone. The two warriors spent awhile surveying the area for potential prey. They must have spotted something because they quickly descended to the forest floor. I don’t know if they were using smell or if their vision was sharper than mine because I couldn’t see a thing. All I saw was a mass of green as my eyes teared from the speed of our descent. The landing was surprisingly soft for how fast we dove. Vex and Balthazar slowly brought their bows out, readying to strike.
Once I blinked the tears from my eyes I spied the reason for our descent. A doe stood about 20 yards away from us, munching on some leaves. We crouched behind a log. Balthazar and Vex conversed through hand gestures. Both drew their bows. The muscles in Vex’s arms rippled as he drew the bowstring back. His chest heaved as he breathed in. With the fall of his chest and a twang, the arrow went flying. Thunk. The arrow sunk straight through the doe’s eye, instantly killing it.
Was Vex an arrogant asshole? Yes, but he was an arrogant asshole with amazing accuracy. “Nice shot,” I said.
“I know,” Vex smirked. “Wait till you see Balthazar’s shot. He’s got some of the best eyes in Windhaven.” Did Vex just wink at Balthazar? Huh.
Vex stood and I began to follow him. I turned to urge Balthazar along but he wasn’t standing behind me. “Shit! Vex!” I yelled. I sprinted to Balthazar where he lay on the ground, unconscious. I was frantic. He had been alert just seconds before but now he was unresponsive. I fell to my knees beside him as an arrow whistled past me ear. Pinned to the tree was a porcupine like creature, but it was decidedly worse than a porcupine. Green oozed from the tips of each quill and two elongated fangs peeked out from under its lip.
“Fuck,” Vex said as he dropped beside me. “Poison,” he nodded towards the dead creature, “the green at the end of their quills is toxic. Without the antitoxin he will die.” A pained look crossed Vex’s face. “I need to take him back right now.”
I knew that meant leaving me alone in the forest. Vex could never carry the both of us and even if he could it would slow him down, significantly. I didn’t care if I was left alone in the forest, Balthazar was my friend and I’d be damned if he died because of me. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
He hefted Balthazar into his arms, letting out a grunt as the warrior settled against his chest. “I will send someone for you, but head back to camp as fast as you can. Good luck.” He gave me one last glance before shooting into the sky, flying faster than I’d ever seen an Illyrian go.
Well… shit. I surveyed my surroundings. I was completely out of my element. I trained for battle, not for survival in the Illyrian Steppes. I knew the general direction I had to go but had no idea how far camp was. Before I started walking, I reached over my back and unsheathed my sword. I wasn’t taking any chances.
I felt it before I heard it. A low, deep growl sounded as I turned. It was huge. It stood on four paws that possessed long claws, perfect for grabbing and sinking into prey. Its face and body were that of a large cat but something horrifying covered its face. Four eyes instead of two peered at me. Its dark body, strong and lithe, stepped over the doe towards me.
Snap. I sprinted away as a twig snapped under its paw. I knew I would never beat this creature in a fight. All I could do was run. Darting in and out of trees without falling was difficult but I pushed myself harder knowing death was the only thing behind me. I silently thanked Lord Devlon for the 10 mile runs as I pushed myself faster. The wind was against me, pushing into me and making it difficult to run.
I was terrified. I could hear the creature gaining on me. Suddenly, I was thrust forward and searing pain ripped up my back. My scream echoed through the forest. Twigs cut into my hands as I landed hard on the ground. My sword just out of reach. Blackness began to envelop my sight. As the darkness claimed me, I heard the beat of wings and the tearing of flesh.
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way to put it into words....MY BABY
who ever made this fanfic I FUCKING LOVE YOU
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Hi, are you still taking requests? If so, could you please write one in which the reader is Azriel's sister and she has a nightmare? Maybe one of them comes running in and comforts her? I'm in need for more acotar one shots!
Okey so I really liked this idea, I feel like azriels sister would be an Illyrian and as a female she’d not have the best childhood.
This is kind of both Azriel and cassian one-shot but I felt like cassian would care deeply about azriels sister. I feel like he would feel like she was his sister as well so that what i wrote.
Warnings: nightmares, ptsd, death.
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑠, 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠.
“𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡“ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑.
“𝑛𝑜!“ 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 “𝑛𝑜! 𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑡! 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒“ 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔.
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔.
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑚, 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑔𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒.
“𝑛𝑜! 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑃!“ 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑃𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑏𝑒𝑟, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒....
“𝑁𝑂!“ 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘.
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑, 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑏𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟.
Azriel was awakened by his sisters horrifying screams. He didn’t think twice before grabbing the truth teller and rushing out of his room. He met with Cassian, his brother ready to face the threat- like a warrior.
They both rushed in her room and stilled at the sight of her.She was twisting around on her bed, yelling words such as “NO” and “DONT” .
“Hey, wake up, wake up” he gently shook her shoulders. Once cassian realized that azriels gentle words wouldn’t do much to wake the female he shouted, loudly “WAKE UP”
Azriel shoot him a warning look which cassian dismissed.
She jumped forward screaming.
“No,no,no” she kept repeating as she tried to touched her wings. She soon realized that they weren’t there.
After he found out that his sisters wings were cut off so soon he was infuriated. He hunted down his father, killed him. Same with his stepmother and stepbrothers. He’d found her crying “it’s over” she’d repeat over and over as Azriel had his arms wrapped around her, hoping to ease her pain. He’d never forgive himself, he’d never get over the fact that he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to protect his only family- his sister. He was angry with himself, angry with his father, his stepfamily, with the five illyrians who helped clipped her wings (all five of the found dead and brutally tortured)
Cassian was no better, azriels sister was his sister. He helped Azriel on killing those illyrians. She was too damn young and she had just lived such a traumatizing experience. He remember her not being able to walk correctly afterwards cause of the pain, her avoiding her reflection- afraid to see her figure without her wings.
“It’s over Azriel, my wings, it’s over” she sobbed quietly.
Azriel just stared at her “I’m sorry” he said before taking he into his arms “I should have been there” he said. The nightmare must have been too vivid.
“Azriel I cannot fly. Why? Why?” She raised her voice. “Why would they do this?” She cried “why?”
Azriel didn’t know what to say. He really didn’t know why. He hated the illyrians, for hurting him, his mother, his sister, his two brothers. He hated them.
“I’m really sorry” he repeated.
“Not your fault Azriel” she sobbed again. But Azriel couldn’t help but feel the guilt. What would happen if he payed more attention? What would happen if he had killed his father earlier?
Cassian just stood there watching them “at least wearing clothes is easier for you” he tried to joke. Azriel immediately shoot him the deadliest look.
Azriel felt her shaking and soon after a joyful sound escaped her lips. She was laughing, she was actually laughing. Cassian smirked victoriously and raised his brows at Azriel who just furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
Cassian sat besides her on the bed “get ready” he said.
Her laugh paused, she gave him a staunched look before he answered with a smirk “I’m flying you around velaris” he said before leaving the room so he, himself could get ready.
Azriel watched her carefully, waiting for her reaction, she just smiled and stood up walking to her closet.
Azriel himself stood up “are you okey?” He questioned.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be okey Azriel. I doubt I’ll ever come to terms with my not having wings, but at least I’m able to experience how flying would actually be, even if it is through cassian or you”
Azriel nodded before leaving the room.
She was delighted, cassian would offer offer to fly her around velaris which made the pain ease, even if it only were for a few hours. She was lucky to have both his and his brother in her life. He’d always make her feel better.
“Ready?” He observed the hulking sized Illyrian standing at her door.She nodded before following him outside of the house. Cassian scooped her up and with a loud thundering noise of his wings, he set of. And she felt free, she forgot about that day, she felt as if flying, she felt free.
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Me reading enemies to lovers fics in 2012
Me reading enemies to lovers fics in 2021
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Hey bestiess! First of all HAPPY PRIDE month, I hope you all have an a AMZING month and i wish you all the best. Be proud of who you are cause nobody else is like you, you are unique and amazing!
School just ended (finally) so from now and on I’ll be a whole lot more active which is exciting. I deeply love writing and school restrained me from doing it so now that such a weight lifted off my shoulders I’ll focus more on this acc.
I have a lot of requests so I’ll be focusing on them for now. I’ll also be writing some of my ideas. EVERY SINGLE ONE of the requests will be answered soon enough (I hope).
Don’t forget to leave your requests.
I write fanfics about
Head cannons for
Thank you to everyone who liked my posts and followed me!
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Sunlight Like Delicate Threads
The memory of his first flight is the brightest and warmest of all.
Fandom: A Court of Thornes and Roses By Sarah J Maas
Characters: Azriel (minor Rhysand and Cassian)
Word Count: 1350
The great, old pine tree was one of the largest in this corner of the forest. It stood unyielding, almost otherworldly. The trunk was enormous, but the fingers that gripped onto it were tiny. Dirt firmly embedded under the fingernails, the skin a warped patchwork of ugly, reddish scars. The rough bark prodded into flesh as the little boy climbed. Up, up, up. A tentative summer had managed to persevere in the harsh northern Illyrian mountains. Streams of light flittered through the trees like the delicate threads of finely seamed clothes. After all these months, Azriel still couldn’t fathom it. The warmth of the pale, watery sunlight caressing his back and wings. Sunlight, he decided, was his favourite part of the Outside. Or anything to do with subtle and steady warmth: steamy baths, chicken stew, woolly blankets. Hot chocolate. No wonder the High Fae worshipped Gods and Cauldrons if those were their creations. What startling difference they were to the frenetic and furious heat of a flame. Flames that tormented and destroyed.
The only sounds other than the songs of the wind wandering through the trees, were his own ragged breaths. Usually, when he would make his attempts to fly, it was coupled with the sound of the taunts and ridicules of two Illyrian boys he could never shake off no matter how hard he tried. Rhysand and Cassian. Short-tempered and rambunctious, the pair were never able to stay patient long enough to teach him before they would fall into a tangled flurry of bruised skin and bloodied fists. And how could they tech him? Both had been flying since they were babes, answering those roaring Illyrian instincts even when they were still so young. The same instincts that Azriel had to shove deep inside of him. Instincts that have long since diminished. Afterall, he had no need for them in the Inside. Just the infuriating though of those boys had him carelessly slipping on a branch. The prickly pine needles tickled against the sensitive skin of his membranous wings, and Azriel let out an embarrassingly high-pitch yelp. Thank the Gods Rhysand and Cassian weren’t here. He had made sure of that. He hated upsetting Rhysand’s kind and warm mother but breaking her favoured flower vase was a necessary act of evil. She would never suspect docile and detached Azriel of such carelessness. But short-tempered and rambunctious Rhysand and Cassian, who were always at the wrong end of a reprimand from the woman. Well, it was almost too easy. No doubt the two boys were knee-deep in a scathing and extravagant punishment at this very moment. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty.
When the boy reached a sturdy looking branch, he braced himself at the base as he repeated the technique over in his mind. Kick, open, and tuck. With a deep inhale, Azriel leapt from the branch. But a brief seizure of panic, had him flailing into a branch of another tree. He fell, landing on his elbows and knees in the soft, pinecone littered earth. He did his best to clamp down on the shame rising inside of him before he got back up and went to climb the tree again. This time, he managed to get in a few good flaps of his wings before a sudden gust of air had him careening to the to the ground again. He fell face-first, getting a mouth full of dirt and dead pine needles. He could practically hear the phantom wretched laughs of his two older brothers as they poured oil onto his unblemished hands. But Azriel got back up on shaky legs and went to climb the tree. Again, and again. On his sixth attempt, he forgot to brace himself before he ran down the length of the branch. His foot landed too close to the edge and before he could even lift off, his ankle twisted and he slipped over the side, tumbling through the tree, absorbing blows from branches at his shoulder, thigh, and head before he landed on his back. He yelled out in anguish when his wings were crushed beneath the weight of his body, the air in his lungs rushing out of him all at once. Azriel didn’t get back up this time. The darkness between the tree caught his attention. They seemed to quiver with anticipation. He couldn’t tell if they were encouraging or taunting him.
The shadows that lurked were hard to ignore now. For the boy that spend his first eight years of his life shrouded in darkness, of course he didn’t notice in those first few days in the Outside that they were quite literally following him wherever he went. Shadows that formed and disappeared and reformed. Shadows that danced and stroked and whispered things to him that only darkness would know. He often wondered what their presence meant. Maybe they were mere hallucinations, a sign that the perpetual abyss finally consumed his mind. Maybe they were his harbingers, awaiting talons ready to drag him back to the Inside. Maybe the darkness of the Inside will never leave him. But right now, Azriel could see the sunlight through the trees. Sunlight like delicate threads. Maybe…no. He had to. He had these eyes to see and these legs to take him anyway in the Outside. He had these wings, no matter how wilted and weak, to carry him to whatever is beyond the Outside. He had to fly.
With gritted teeth and reforged determination, the boy stood back up and gripped the great, old pine tree. By now, he had memorised the most stable path for ascending, and he knew when to tuck and turn his wings so the prickly pine needles wouldn’t brush against them. Up, up, up he climbed. And when he reached that branch, Azriel stilled and closed his eyes. He stood unyielding as the tree, unyielding as the harsh northern Illyrian mountains. He opened himself up and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel everything. The scent of earth and pine in the air, the timid sunlight on his skin, the cold wind ruffling through his hair, at his back. And there it was. The slightest shift, a bated breath. And all at once the winds pushed. Azriel ran. Azriel leaped. He kicked his feet and freed his wings in one mighty sweep. And Azriel flew. He caught onto the wind’s current, gliding, and flapping at the right moments. He dodged and twisted and weaved through the trees, the pine needles tickling at his outstretched fingertips. He ignored the screaming pain in the joints of his back. And in a single breath, Azriel broke through the tree line and reached the Outside beyond. The sun’s warmth hugged him from all sides, like steamy baths and chicken stew and woolly blanket and hot chocolate all at once. And the sky. He had never seen anything so blue. Azriel cried then, honest, and warm tracks of tears sliding down his face and dissolving into the air around him. He didn’t try to stop them; he didn’t want to. Azriel had believed that only darkness was endless. But this. The sun and the sky around him, and the world below, the Outside. This was true endlessness. Light and warmth.
Suddenly, two dark flashes appeared at the corner of his vision and propelled towards him. And for a harrowing moment, the boy though they were shadowed talons, finally coming to drag him back into darkness. But these talons had wings like his and matching mischievous glints in their eyes. And they were laughing. Rhys and Cass. They swooped and circled him. They whooped and cheered. They shouted words Azirel couldn’t here over the roaring of the winds. But one look at the pure elation on their faces and he knew. He could feel it bubbling inside of him too, unfamiliar but welcomed. And Azriel laughed. So pure and childlike. He had never made a sound so joyous and unrestrained. The little boy laughed and whooped and cheered with his friends as they flew into the endless Outside.
i love azriel sm
like and reblog if you liked this! and check out my other fics too! (there's not many but im proud of them)😊
as always, thanks
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Chapter 38 -- Come Closer
As you and Azriel fly through the Winter Court, you think about your argument with Eris. Azriel, sensing your mood, tries to talk to you about it, and things go relatively well, almost too well.
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END - There’s the apology azris oneshot. It doesn’t really have a title, Flames and Shadows is basic but it’s all I’ve got. I think Eris and Az would be great enemies to reluctant friends to lovers idk. Also, Eris at this point has sort of just been dragged into the ic friend group but still remains an asshole. It is what it is. Hope you enjoy it!!!
YOU HAVE NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE but this was INCREDIBLE.
Also i LOVE the idea of eris reluctantly being dragged into the ic
Anyway. Here it is in full:
Azriel had been working with Eris for months, he’d trusted the spoiled prince to get them safely out of harm’s way, to take them to a secure location. He’d been expecting Eris to winnow them to his personal home, but as they materialized in the unfamiliar space, Azriel realized it was the first time he was seeing the other male’s room. With a small growl, Eris let go of Azriel leathers, shoving past him but not touching his wings.
Eris barely lifted a finger, the stunning, stone fireplace to his right roaring to life along with the bronze sconces that lined the walls. All of Eris’s cottage was elegant, the furniture in it made of expensive carved mahogany that matched the gleaming hardwood floors and sideboards, everything organized, orderly, and tasteful. Eris’s bedroom was much the same.
Two comfortable-looking cushioned chairs were placed near the fireplace, a low table between them was covered in multiple neat piles of thick books. His bed was huge, pushed up against the opposite wall, big enough for multiple people to lie in it. The carved pattern on the dresser, mirror, and nightstands was intricate - beautiful. Not knowing what to do with himself, Azriel merely stood where Eris had left him - right in the middle of the bedroom.
Azriel took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, livid that they’d been caught by surprise but the anger not showing on his face. Some of Azriel’s shadows skittered around him, the rest trailed after Eris as he stumbled to the dresser, knocking into it with his knees so that it hit the wall with an ugly thud. Azriel watched as Eris leaned toward the mirror, wincing as Eris wiped at his mouth with the dark brown sleeve of his well-tailored jacket.
“What the fuck?” Blood nearly the same colour of Eris’s hair dripped from his nose, leaking down his face, staining the collar of the offwhite shirt that peaked out of Eris’s jacket. Eris tugged open the dresser’s top drawer, all his shirts neatly folded inside, taking one out and holding it up against his face. He turned to face Azriel, his newly cut hair in disarray as he gestured wildly in Azriel’s direction, “Some fucking spymaster.”
His voice was muffled by the shirt, but it did nothing to hide his angry tone, “I thought those shadows were useful.”
Azriel clenched his jaw. For the most part, Eris had been treating Azriel’s shadows like he treated his hounds: with an unexpected softness. The shadows liked brushing up against Eris’s hands as he wrote, or curling up over his shoulders as he read. Azriel had apologized the first few times it had happened, but Eris had assured him that he didn’t mind.
He didn’t like the way Eris was talking about them now, though. “They are useful.”
“They are not.”
“They were distracted,” Azriel snapped, defending them.
Eris moved the shirt away from his face, the bleeding seemed to have slowed. He snorted, the sound watery, “By what?” He turned back to the mirror.
Azriel was moments away from retorting “by you,” but he stopped himself. There must have been a reason his shadows monitored the Autumn Court Heir’s every move. Azriel assumed it was because they didn’t trust Eris Vanserra, and he didn’t want to offend one of the Night Court’s most important allies by telling him as much.
“Give me that pitcher,” Eris demanded.
Azriel would have ignored him had he not felt slightly responsible for Eris’s current state. It wasn’t that Eris hadn’t been a decent enough fighter, but they both hadn’t been expecting an ambush, and as the more experienced one, Azriel should have kept an eye on him. Azriel handed Eris the pitcher that had been sitting on the nightstand, watching as water sloshed over the edges and onto the dresser as Eris shoved a clean part of the shirt into it before he brought the wet fabric to his face.
Eris leaned closer to the mirror, nearly knocking over the pitcher, and made a funny noise deep in his throat before he spoke. “Cauldron fucking boil me,” he bemoaned, one of his fingers gingerly touching the tip of his nose. “I think it’s crooked.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. His nose looked fine, perfect, even. “It is not.”
Azriel was debating whether or not to sit in one of the chairs when Eris turned an accusatory gaze in his direction, “I blame you for this complete and utter disaster.”
Azriel blamed himself too. That night was supposed to be nothing more than a routine lookout. If he’d known that Koschei was going to send others after them, he wouldn’t have taken Eris with him in the first place. Azriel would have thought about what it might have meant that he’d wanted to take Eris with him, but Azriel was too focused on the way his shadows seemed to be trying to warn Eris that he’d probably end up making his injuries a lot worse if he didn’t calm down.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Azriel suggested, his voice smooth.
Eris paid him no mind, scrubbing a little too aggressively at the blood on his face. Most of it had come off, and his nose had finally stopped bleeding. “Don’t tell me what to do,” Eris muttered, wiping at some of the blood on his neck.
Azriel regretted that Eris had gotten hit in the face with the pommel of a sword, not really knowing why.
He’d spent years fantasizing about doing the very same thing, but spending so much time with Eris had Azriel - and he could barely believe it - liking him. “Vanserra, get on the bed,” Eris straightened, raising his brows, “Let me have a look.”
“First Cassian, now you. I don’t like being ordered around by overgrown bats.” Despite the statement, Eris made his way to the bed, leaning up against the headboard, boot clad feet on the dark red covers.
Eris was still scowling as Azriel tipped his head back just a bit, cradling Eris’s jaw in one hand, taking in every feature of his face. He was beautiful in an undeniable sort of way, and now that he’d cut his hair, Azriel thought he looked even better. Eris’s strange friendship with Nesta had led to the change; he'd let her, Feyre, and Elain cut it for no apparent reason and still managed to look ridiculously stunning.
Azriel gently wiped at any remaining blood that stained the other male’s skin. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, Azriel could feel the sharp planes of Eris’s face and was reminded of the first time he’d ever seen the Autumn Court prince. He’d thought Eris was classically beautiful in a way that reminded Azriel of broken shards of stained glass. Lovely, yet dangerous.
Azriel put the ruined shirt on the bed, using the hand that wasn’t holding Eris’s chin to move some of the hair that had fallen over Eris’s brow. His nose wasn’t bleeding anymore, a small cut underneath his eye was already starting to heal, and the bruise on his jaw seemed to be fading. His nose definitely wasn’t crooked, but Azriel ran the tip of his scarred finger along the sloped bridge of it just to make sure.
Azriel hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Eris. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he murmured.
Azriel watched as Eris’s eyes fluttered. “I heard the crunch,” he breathed.
Azriel didn’t know what came over him, in the moment he thought it might have been madness. Eris was one of his oldest enemies, he was cruel, and ruthless, and he deserved only the worst. That was what he’d believed for centuries.
He didn’t know what might have possessed him to press his lips to the mean line of Eris’s mouth, but he knew that it felt… right. Eris parted his lips in a shocked gasp, golden flames bright in his wide eyes. Azriel was completely out of his mind. He’d never, not once in his entire life, done something without thinking it through. The panic seized him quite suddenly, his wings flaring just a bit as he made to move back, to move away.
Azriel was more than just a little surprised when Eris lifted his hand, threading his slender fingers into the dark hair at the base of Azriel’s scalp, pulling him closer in another kiss. Azriel kissed Eris harder this time, grabbing the other male’s face in both hands, thumbs sliding against sharp cheekbones, lips moving with the force of weeks’ worth of wanting. Eris’s bottom lip was caught between Azriel’s teeth, his other hand coming up to fist in Azriel’s leathers.
Weeks upon weeks of working with Eris, talking to him, trusting him. A helpless sound escaped Eris’s lips when Azriel slowly moved his hands so that his thumbs traced the shape of the smooth, pale, column of Eris’s throat. Azriel had more than a million things to do, but as Azriel opened his mouth, Eris’s tongue pushing against his in a savage claiming, Azriel leaned into him, all those things forgotten.
Azriel wanted to move so that he was right between Eris’s thighs, to press the other male into the bed, to watch a prince of Autumn come undone. Their kisses were messy, urgent, desperate. Eris pulled him closer, and Azriel thought he could drown in the feel of him, the taste of him. The taste of crackling embers, of rich cognac, of Autumn mornings.
Azriel’s hands slid down to Eris’s chest, undoing the golden buttons of his jacket, pulling it wide. Eris tugged on the roots of Azriel’s hair in a way that nearly had him forgetting his own name. Azriel couldn’t deny that he was drawn to Eris like a moth was drawn to a flame, he just hoped he didn’t get burned. The tips of Azriel’s fingers found the laces of Eris’s bloodied, ruined shirt. He wanted the shirt to come off, he’d never wanted anything more.
Never in his wildest dreams did Azriel think he’d want - need - Eris Vanserra. A prince born into the most savage of courts, born of blood, and ash, and fire.
Azriel was playing with fire.
Azriel didn’t like fire.
With only half a thought, Azriel roughly shoved Eris away from him.
Eris had red embers dancing in the deep amber of his eyes, his cheeks were flushed and his lips slightly swollen. They were staring at each other, no one speaking for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds in the room their ragged breaths and the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
Eris ran a hand through his hair, flashing Azriel the pale skin of his wrist as the sleeve lifted. “Well,” Eris started, “That was unexpected.” He huffed a breathless, awkward laugh.
Azriel guessed that it might have also been unwelcome.
“That was…” Azriel paused. He didn’t know what to say. That was nice? That was entirely unplanned? That was something they should do again? He couldn’t read the expression on Eris’s face and his shadows weren’t being very helpful. “That was a mistake.”
Azriel knew he’d chipped away at Eris all these weeks. They’d gotten past Azriel’s one-word answers and Eris’s cruel remarks. They’d researched, and spied, and fought together. They talked to one another, trusted one another, but as soon as Azriel finished his sentence, he thought that perhaps he’d taken any progress they’d made and thrown it into roaring flames.
Watching Eris flip from open and vulnerable to cold and aloof, was like watching the last rays of sun disappear over the horizon - blink and you’d miss it. Eris nodded once, his eyes cold, lifting his chin just a bit. Eris’s voice as he spoke was smooth, arrogant, not a hint of the warmth Azriel had gotten used to. “Usually, males and females alike wait until the morning after to say something along those lines.”
Azriel stiffened, well aware that he’d managed to hurt Eris. He didn’t know what to say to make this whole thing better, but was saved from having to speak when the door to Eris’s bedroom slammed against the wall as it flew open.
“I think I’ve found those—” Eris’s younger brother faltered, stopping suddenly, almost as if he’d hit some sort of ward.
Azriel nearly tripped over himself as he abruptly stood, him and Eris weren’t even that close to each other anymore but he felt like he desperately needed the space. Shadows frantically swirled around his feet, some skittering towards the Vanserra by the door. They hadn’t warned him for the second time that night of someone else’s presence, and Azriel was starting to think they were playing some sort of cruel joke on him.
Azriel had spoken to Rufus many times in their combined efforts to stop Koschei, and the young male almost always had something to say. Rendering him speechless wasn’t something that Azriel would have thought possible, but there he was, multiple ancient looking scrolls in his arms, his jaw slack as his russett eyes looked between the Autumn Court’s Heir and the Night Court’s Spymaster.
Azriel was certain that alarm was evident all over the features of his usually blank face, his shadows dancing around him as he waited for someone else to speak. - Rufus angled his head, amusement glittering in his all-too clever eyes. He looked very much like Lucien as he drawled, “Am I interrupting something?”
Eris’s sharp response nearly had Azriel flinching. “No.”
Rufus smiled, elegant auburn brows raised as he adjusted the scrolls in his arms, “I have many questions.”
Eris’s smile in return was more of a bare of teeth, “And you will ask none of them.”
“I’ll ask them later,” Rufus didn’t even look in Azriel’s direction as he threw himself onto one of the cushioned chairs by the fire. “I got those maps you asked for.”
Azriel had forgotten that they’d asked Rufus to look for some older maps of the continent. Eris had been sure that they would be able to find some in the library of the Forest House, and Rufus had been the one who offered to look for them.
“Are you going to look over these with us, Shadowsinger, or are you going to stay by the foot of Eris’s bed the whole night?”
Rufus spoke to Azriel, but Eris answered for him. “Azriel was just leaving.”
Azriel turned his head sharply to face Eris. He was still leaning against the headboard of his bed, his hair messier than Azriel had ever seen it, his mouth set in a way that suggested he wasn’t very pleased.
“Eris…” Azriel made to take a step towards him.
The Autumn prince just waved a hand dismissively, “Have a goodnight.”
Azriel barely heard him, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t help but feel as though leaving Eris’s cottage might be an even bigger mistake than the kiss. Azriel nodded once at Eris, deciding he’d winnow straight to the House of Wind as shadows swarmed him; he wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right now. Eris’s flame bright eyes was the last thing Azriel saw as he was engulfed in darkness.
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Reflections - Nessian NSFW
Nesta has no idea why Cassian bothered to buy a new, floor-length, mirror, but once she figures it out, she can't get her mind off it.
Nesta hadn't given the new mirror that Cassian had bought a few days ago much thought, until now. Full-length, plenty of empty space in front of it, she hadn't thought anything of it, not even at Cassian's undisguised glee when he'd come home with it, assuming it was just some stupid joke, but days later the mirror was still there. She'd only thought about it yesterday morning when he whispered to her,
"Want to know what it's for? What it's really for?" Nesta had nodded, slightly confused, but realized at once at the gleeful look in his eyes,
"You want to fuck me in front of a mirror?"
"I want you to watch me fucking you in the mirror." She'd flushed bright red at that, but Cassian had already slipped outside, raising an eyebrow at her before disappearing to training. Still, Nesta hadn't been able to shake that idea, he hadn't mentioned it since, and even with her book, it was like the mirror was watching her, but that was ridiculous. She glared at it, slamming her book closed, and Cassian chuckled from beside her, clearly happy to escape his book, well, the book she had practically forced him to read.
"Stop it, stop looking at me like that," she hissed, opening her book again, but gave up after reading the same sentence at least three times,
"Something distracting you?" Cassian grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes,
"I hate you."
"We both know that's not true," he laughed, and Nesta glowered at him,
"It is," she insisted, but yelped when he moved faster than she could register, flipping her underneath him,
"Then how come I'm the only one who gets to have you like this?"
"I don't know what you mean," she managed, but gasped and dropped her head backwards when he pushed her nightgown up, his hand so close to her sex, but staying just too far from it. She squeezed her eyes shut, this was what he wanted, and she wasn't going to lose, so she lifted her head again, "Who says that you're the only one?" She almost missed him move again, only noticing once his hand had curled around her throat. Her words died on her tongue, and she automatically grabbed at his wrist, not bothering to try to dislodge him, just ready to warn him if whatever he did was to much for her.
"I'm sorry?" The opportunity was too good to miss, even if his tone was dangerously low, even if the sensible thing would be to apologize, to save herself a punishment, she smirked as she spoke,
"That's okay, you're forgiven." She had underestimated him, underestimated how quickly he was going to react tonight, no sooner had the words left her mouth than Cassian's grip on her throat tightened. She could, of course, still breathe, but the lack of blood flow left her head roaring, the world fading as she panted, gently squeezing Cassian's wrist. He loosened his grip at her request, but still stared down at her with that unyielding dominance in his eyes, she'd lost, she'd completely and utterly lost.
"Try again," he whispered, and Nesta whimpered, her lie slipping away as she wriggled, Cassian raised an eyebrow, and she stilled, "What were you saying? That I'm not the only one who gets you like this?" He tightened his grip again, and she gasped out his name,
"No, please, I'm sorry, it wasn't true, it wasn't true." He released his grip on her throat, but kept his hand in place, holding her still,
"So you lied to me." She didn't have a clever response to that, "Well?"
"Yes," she whispered, "I'm sorry," she added after a moment, squirming under his gaze as he silently glared down at her,
"Oh we're definitely playing with the mirror now. Do not move." Nesta obeyed, laying still as he disappeared from her view, but shifted around at the sounds of rustling. "You can sit up now." She did, her gaze snapping towards the mirror, and she felt another rush of wetness at the sight before her. Cassian was utterly, gloriously naked, already hard and ready, a length of rope in his hands. It was an effort to stay still, to avoid rushing straight towards him, but this was part of the game, now she'd lost, she had to play the game, had to wait for his order. She grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling it over her head at Cassian's nod, "Come here," Nesta didn't need any more encouragement to practically leap up, but she caught herself in time, managing to maintain a steady pace as she walked towards him.
He tipped her chin upwards, one hand in her hair, the other tugging her waist against him, and Nesta moaned when Cassian tugged her head backwards, gripping onto his shoulders as he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. She couldn't breathe fast enough, not with the way he was kissing her, hard, fast, so much that she almost couldn't match his movements. He was faster than her, catching her off guard when he nipped at her bottom lip, making her jaw drop further. He allowed her all of one breath before surging back towards her, claiming her lips so thoroughly that she had no doubt of what she wanted,
"No one else," he snarled, "No one else get to have you,"
"No one," she panted, still trembling in his arms, "I'm all yours," she whispered, and Cassian spun her around, and tugged her backwards against his chest, so that she was staring into the mirror. She tried to turn away, but Cassian gripped her chin, turning her head back to the mirror, forcing her to stare into her own eyes. She automatically moved back, but found herself pinned still, Cassian's arms around her waist, she could only see him in the mirror, see the way he was grinning, the way his lips were now slightly swollen, a deep flush creeping down his chest, not that she was in any better shape. With her hair unbound, he'd been able to mess it up enough to make her look truly desperate, if her red cheeks and panting breaths hadn't already given her away.
"Good girl," he murmured, and Nesta saw herself melt under the praise, saw herself sink into his arms, and didn't complain when he slowly leaned back, supporting her with one arm as he lowered them to the floor. He snatched up the discarded length of rope, and steel gathered in Nesta's veins again as she made to crawl away from him, from where she was sitting between his legs. While he was distracted she could snatch back control, but he wasn't really distracted, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her backwards with a yelp until she was pressed against him again. He locked his ankles against hers, dragging her legs open, and gently guided her head back so that it rested on his shoulder. She drew in a deep breath, but twisted her wrist out of his grip when he caught it, but forgot about the other one, and she huffed when he looped the rope around it, losing her concentration on evading him, and struggled against him for a moment when he caught both, before giving in and glaring at him through the mirror as he bound them together in front of her. In front, not behind, because he wanted to be closer to her, to touch her.
Nesta's eyes flickered shut at the first light touch across her stomach,
"Eyes open," Cassian reminded her, "Watch." She did as she was told, her gaze fixed on his hands where they rubbed circles across her skin, rising higher to knead her breasts in time with her ragged breaths,
"Please," she whispered, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, and apparently failing, judging by Cassian's chuckled against the skin of her neck,
"Awwww, can't take it?" He tugged on her earlobe, and sped up at the same time, "That's too bad," he hummed, "How badly do you want it?"
"Bad. Please, Cass, please, please," he hummed wordlessly, as if considering her plea,
"You're so pretty when you beg, sweetheart, I want to hear some more." Despite his words, he did dip his hand to brush against her clit, leaving her wriggling, and rocking her hips against him, until he pulled away. She sobbed in desperation, biting her lip to keep from squealing,
"Please," she muttered again, "I need you," no difference, "General," she crooned, and almost laughed at the way Cassian's hands froze momentarily before continuing, "Please, General, I need your cock inside me, I need you to fuck me, please," she tried to sound teasing, but it still came out as a weak whimper,
"Fuck," Cassian muttered next to her ear, his head dropped into her neck as he pressed gentle kisses against her skin, his hair as messy as hers now, a dark angel, her warrior. "You see what you do to me?" He whispered, "Only I can have you, but only you can have me," she was still processing his words when he slid two fingers through her sex, coating them with her wetness, "Oh, you are desperate aren't you, Nesta?" He teased before sliding a finger into her, then a second, pumping them in and out a few times, his other hand keeping her head from falling back, forcing her to keep watching as she rode his fingers, her hips bucking almost uncontrollably now. She screamed his name when he curled his fingers inside her, already hurtling over the edge, and kept screaming as he kept moving inside her, dragging a second climax from her as soon as the first had finished, then a third, then a fourth. Nesta sobbed with pleasure when she came down from her fourth climax, trying to squirm away, trying to push his hand away,
"I can't," she gasped, "Please,"
"You can, and you will. You lied to me, you owe me another four before we play," No, no, no, eight was the number for lying, but she'd hoped he'd just spank her, this was so much harder, and she sobbed again when he pushed her towards the edge. She couldn't do it, it was too much, but she screamed her pleasure again when she came a fifth time, her body no longer responding to her commands to wriggle away from him, to escape the overwhelming pleasure arcing through her at each orgasm. She could hardly see through the tears blurring her vision, but she knew that she was absolutely wrecked, could feel the way her body was loose and pliant against Cassian's, how easily he could move her around, his fingers reaching deeper inside her as he stretched her out, "One more for me, sweetheart, one more, okay," Nesta nodded, and wriggled as her muscles tightened, coiling in her stomach, until Cassian bit down on her neck, sending it all rushing outwards, washing over her in a great wave, leaving her screaming and crying in pleasure.
Cassian gently stroked her hair, rubbing soothing circles against her ribs as Nesta struggled to fill her lungs again and again, spooling herself back together piece by piece, panting as Cassian untied her wrists
"Good girl," he murmured, and Nesta mumbled something incoherent, earning a chuckle from her mate, "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous," he hummed, and kissed the top of her head. He meant it, Nesta knew he meant it, but the praise still made her squirm, still made her automatically think he was lying. "You did so well, sweetheart," she melted under the adoration in his voice, twisting in his arms to look into his eyes, "You okay?" She nodded, and buried her face in his neck, sighing happily. "Color?" Cassian murmured, and she twisted her head sideways to mutter,
"Orange, I just need a minute."
"Are you done?"
"No. I just need a break," Cassian held her against him as she breathed, and breathed, and breathed, her mind-stilling exercises helping her to relax, to bring herself back to her body, to the present, to Cassian. Once she was ready, she leaned back into him, dragging his face back to hers, her heart cracking at the gentleness of his movements, the worry in his eyes when he pulled back, and lightly kissed her nose. Nesta grinned, and kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip to turn the kiss into something more, something more demanding. That familiar smirk returned the moment Cassian released her lips, and Nesta shifted her hips against him, chuckling at his muttered curses. She shot him a glance over her shoulder, "Green," she trilled, and leaned forwards onto her forearms, lifting her ass in silent demand. Cassian rose behind her, running a hand down her spine, sparking shivers wherever their skin met, and pushed her legs further apart. Nesta dropped her head onto the floor, suddenly grateful for Cassian's foresight to put a rug there, softening the hard floorboards.
"You're supposed to be watching," Cassian murmured, and Nesta yelped when he pulled her head up, her hair wrapped around his wrist, his hand fisted in her hair. She gasped when he tugged again, lifting her off her hands for a moment before letting her back down, "Now watch, sweetheart," he whispered before slamming into her in one thrust. The sound that left Nesta's throat was one of pure animalistic need, and she couldn't look away, not as he pumped his hips against hers, not as his eyes dropped half-closed with pleasure, not as she unraveled, screaming his name with each thrust. He released her hair to grab her hips with both hands, pulling her backwards at the same time as he thrust forwards into her, Nesta screamed wordlessly, stars filling her vision with each thrust. She lost track of exactly what she was saying, what she was begging for, but Cassian gave her everything she could have asked for, and then some. She came twice more, screaming his name, but still begging for more, until he finally groaned her name, and came himself after one last, harsh thrust. Nesta had already slumped forwards, her ass still in the air as his release slowly dripped out of her. She could never tire of this, of him, not if they had a million years, and she must have said as much, because Cassian eased her into his lap, still panting himself from the force of his climax,
"Now I'm done," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as they sat in silence for a few moments, comfortable, safe in each others' arms. Cassian was still running his hands up an down her sides, as if he needed that contact, that reassurance that Nesta was okay, as he did every time. She kissed his jaw, "I love you," she mumbled, her heart aching at the undisguised worry in his eyes, "I'm fine," she wriggled back slightly, "See? Fine," still, Cassian would need to check for himself, but Nesta could do this for him, "I will always love you, you know that, right?"
"I know," he ran his lips across her jaw again, "But it does help to hear you say it,"
"I can say if every five minutes if that's what you need to believe me." He chuckled at that, and ran his gaze over her again,
"You sure you're okay? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine," she took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, proving to him that she was recovering fine, still remembering his panic when she'd come one too many times, and hadn't been able to catch her breath. Cassian had made sure to watch her breathing ever since, and she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she'd tell him if she was struggling, even if Madja had said that it was just because she had been tired. Cassian was still holding her to his chest, waiting until her breathing had completely returned to normal before carrying her across to the bed,
"Give me one minute, okay?" Nesta nodded, and Cassian moved quickly to the bathroom, coming back in less than the minute he'd asked for, finding Nesta alert, and glancing around the room. She relaxed again the moment he reappeared in her vision, "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I should have had this ready in here,"
"It's okay," Nesta muttered, "You're here, that's all I need," Cassian kissed her forehead again before gently cleaning her up with the washcloth he'd gone to fetch, but protested when she tried to do the same, claiming that he was fine, but Nesta just glared at him until he caved. She was still wobbly on her feet when she stood, and she didn't miss the note of satisfaction in Cassian's gaze when he noted that fact, but she ignored it, careful when she reached his back. "Do you want me to do your wings?" Cassian nodded, and Nesta swiped up a towel, quickly drying the areas she'd washed straight away, and Cassian dropped his head forwards, his eyes falling closed, a low groan sounding in his chest, not one of pleasure, but contentment. Nesta placed the bowl and cloths to the side, smiling when Cassian slipped under the covers, opening his arms to her. She slipped underneath one, half-laying on his chest, with Cassian holding her tightly against him, one hand around her waist, the other cradling her head. She sighed happily, and snuggled into him, giggling when he wrapped his wings around her, leaving her head free, her breathing space. She mumbled again that she loved him, but she was already slipping into sleep, hardly registering his chuckle as he stroked her hair softly until he too fell asleep.
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Ngl, E&L has become such a part of my heart and a part of Nessian canon in my head, that sometimes I forget what happened in E&L vs ACOSF. Which I think speaks to your credit as a writer that you are able to so wonderfully match the tone and characterization, and create wonderful plot lines for Nesta and Cassian. This is also to say I reread ACOSF, excited to reread certain scenes, only to remember that those scenes happened in E&L 😂
Awww what a compliment—thank you so much! What are your favourite E&L scenes?! Xxx
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‘tis the damn season
I was thinking of posting this. I’m not finished with it yet but I wanted to see how many people would be interested.
based off ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift, of course.
The first time she sees him again it's during Christmas break. Nesta tries to not think about him. It’s inevitable she’ll end up seeing him, since her sister and his so-called brother are dating. It just doesn’t feel right in these circumstances. She remembers their break-up just like it was yesterday.
They were graduating. While Nesta was moving to New York to go to NYU, Cassian was staying in their hometown. They had a huge fight about god knows what. But before she could yell at him to leave, he had slammed the door to her house. And instead of answering his call, she let it go to voicemail. No matter how hard she tries, it seems Nesta still can’t get the look on his face out of her head as he watched her leave without much of a goodbye.
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"Just kiss me you fool" for Nessian plase
Cassian knew the date had gone bad.
Okay, maybe not bad but he sure as hell had better dates, and he was certain Nesta had, too. It was bad enough, at least, that Cassian had a feeling there wouldn't be a second one any time soon.
He was driving her home at a quarter to ten, the Velaris starlight shining brightly above them, able to be seen through the sun roof of Cassian's Jeep. Music was playing softly on the radio, but Cassian didn't even know what song was playing.
All he could think about was what Nesta was thinking in the passenger seat as she stared out the window.
Cassian wanted to say something, but he wasn't exactly sure what to say.
Sorry about the fender bender on the way to the restaurant. Sorry I spilled wine on your dress. Sorry I left the movie theater for thirty minutes. Work called, I had to answer. Sorry for all the awkward silences and uncomfortable jokes. You're hard as shit to read sometimes.
No, none of that seemed appropriate.
Silence seemed better.
Silence, and continuous wonder of what the hell she was thinking.
They went way back, had known each other since they were little. In high school and college, they hung out a lot, considering Nesta's sister was dating one of Cassian's best friends. It carried into their adult lives, that group of friends, which is how Cassian ended up asking Nesta out.
He had always been attracted to her.
He would be stupid to not have been attracted to her. She was gorgeous. Slightly terrifying to some, but earth-shatteringly gorgeous.
Cassian pulled into her driveway and put the car in park. He went around to her side and opened the door, holding out a hand to help her out.
To his surprise, she took it.
He walked her to the door and up the steps. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, had a good time.”
Nesta chuckled as she faced him, one brow raised.
All Cassian’s breath left him. “Alright, I know, tonight could’ve gone better. I’m sorry, really, I am. But, I like you, Nesta. And I hope tonight didn’t completely ruin...whatever this can become.”
Nesta kept watching him with that little mysterious smile, that one brow raised. “Do you want to come in?”
Cassian froze, nearly thinking he hadn’t heard her right. “What? Seriously? But, I-.”
“Just kiss me, you fool,” she said, laughing quietly as she pulled him close to her by the collar of his shirt.
Their lips met, and Cassian’s arms immediately wrapped around her waist.
Their date may have been a little off, but there was nothing off about that kiss.
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Chapter 37 -- Of Misdeeds and Vileness
Miriro explains Anima. Eris returns to the cottage upset -- and leaves even more upset.
Read on Ao3
Read on Wattpad
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Happy Endings - azriel
azriel x gn reader
genre: mostly angst
warnings: a curse word or two
I'm so sorry anon, I lost your request + I have a shite memory. If you see this, I hope this is what you wanted D: If you wanted the reader to not have feelings or the bond to occur between Azriel and Elain let me know and I can write another.
I adore how this one came full circle several times ♡
happy pride month ! especially to my fellow closeted queers. ily.
I was almost late this morning – my bed felt more comfortable than normal. There were days like that. But each morning I was glad to make it to the roof. Grateful to be here. Grateful to be alive. The world had been neck deep in chaos for decades: tensions running high between courts and continents, war on every horizon, and fear behind everyone's eyes.
Happy endings were rare, yet we were all here – our court of dreams. Plus a few new faces.
The soft pad of feet on the stone steps was the only signal of Azriel's approach and I knew they were for my benefit.
"You almost missed it," I said in greeting, glancing over at him as he settled in the chair next to me.
He stretched out his long legs with a sigh, eyes blinking drowsily, the rising sun painting the dark brown a burnt gold. "I would never mess with our routine."
The hundreds of mornings on the top of the House of Wind both of us had missed made me raise an eyebrow.
"I wasn't complaining."
He grumbled something under his breath in response, and I grinned. The banter between us was light, easy, and natural after decades and decades of friendship. It always had been.
We sat in silence until the city below us was awake; the sun glowing bright fully risen above the mountain range.
I rose to my feet, stretching my limbs as I went. "Any time in your schedule for a warmup?" Depending on the day and our responsibilities, the two of us (and sometimes Cassian) would go through some stretches, or if we were feeling up to it – a few rounds in the practice ring.
Azriel shook his head, wings flexing and expanding as he too got to his feet. "Tomorrow?"
All of the Inner Court had noticed the pull between Azriel and Elain. The gazes, the restraint he placed on himself when she was around, and the careful attention the two always paid to the other. Mor and I spoke late into many nights about it, and most days I could ignore my mixed feelings. He deserved to find the bond like his brothers had.
But I do not think a single one of us had predicted it would all come to head the way it did. I really did not mean to take the attention away from Nyx on his first birthday, but it could not be helped. The Cauldron and the powers that be had other plans.
The moon was high in the sky, and Feyre and Rhysand were attempting to coax their crying child to bed at one end of the table. Azriel leaned against a wall, and Elain and Morrigan still sat at the table, all three watching the rapid discussion between Nesta, Cassian, and Amren over the pile of unwrapped presents with amused smiles.
I would have joined them – I was about to – when it clicked into place.
The shift in the room was instant. Even Nyx stopped sniveling.
I physically felt the eyes of everyone on my skin, but I was frozen stiff. I just wanted to look anywhere – anywhere but him. The soulmate bond was brand new. Raw. But it felt as if it had been there forever. It was innate to feel his presence, his soul linked to mine, and it was impossible to turn my gaze anywhere else.
Turn it off. Plummeting deep down into my very being I closed myself off from it all, the bond, the emotions, with impenetrable walls Rhys would be proud of if he could see passed them. Get out. Out of the room. He can't see you like this.
It was a thunderstorm – a clash of a thousand whirling emotions from both of us. For a moment everything clicked. And it felt right.
Then his eyes flickered to Elain.
And I felt my heart slip.
A few feet from the end of the hallway hurried footsteps stopped me in my tracks. I knew who they belonged to – or who they did not belong to – and it broke my heart even more.
Morrigan placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, the concerned look on her face cutting deeper than it should have. "What do you need?" She asked.
I looked around her at the empty hallway.
Don't break. Don't break.
"Do you have a spare room?"
I spent months secluded in Morrigan's mountain estate, Athelwood. Most of my time I spent working on hobbies, reading, or working on anything I could do from afar. It was mostly just paperwork forwarded by Rhys.
Amren, Cassian, and Morrigan visited often – always bringing wine and complaining about how I was missing nights at Rita's. Even Feyre wrote letters and Nyx's scribbled drawings were tucked in a drawer for safekeeping.
Throughout all of it I heard less than a whisper about Azriel and not once did I dare to ask.
Because the bond was so eerily quiet.
Was the silence normal?
Was it better this way?
I never thought I would find my soulmate – Cassian and Rhysand finding their respective persons was all the fortune I thought our ragtag group would have been granted. Yet here we were.
I would not force a relationship between Azriel and I. Forced bonds never went well and I would never impose the bond on someone. Especially if they had already found love.
Especially if that person was Azriel. The boy I had grown up with, the man who defended my back in every battle I could remember, who was by my side stumbling drunk up the beginning of the 10,000 steps when we forgot he could fly, who I had watched a thousand sunrises with – my best friend. Even him.
A few weeks after leaving Velaris, a realization struck me like an assassin's dagger between the ribs. Would I even know if Azriel rejected the bond?
Would it tell me somehow?
Or would it remain shadowed, open ended, gaping, and hemorrhaging for eternity leaving me wondering, wandering, numb.
Shut it off shut it off shut it off shut it off—
. . . Did I even want to know?
But each morning, regardless of the amount of sleep I got, I awoke at the same time. The same damn time to watch the sun struggle to reach the valley. And each sunrise I watched it creep down to the grass at my feet and I wondered if the two seats near the edge of the roof of the House of Wind were empty.
Or if mine had been filled.
After all, happy endings were rare.
Returning to the House of Wind a week ago was easier than I anticipated. The House itself greeted me with fresh sheets, a crackling fireplace, and a dinner spread of my favorite foods.
Once, I had been annoyed by my room's distance from Azriel and Cassian's personal quarters but had refused to move and give up my balcony. A choice I am glad for now more than ever. I could come and go as I pleased with risking a confrontation I was not ready to face.
Until this morning.
When I forgot and did not remember before I had already shuffled half-asleep to the top level of the House of Wind. Before the gentle morning breeze laid warmly against my skin and Azriel was watching me from his chair, legs stretched out and eyes alight in the daybreak.
It was only then my mind caught up with my body and I turned on the spot, embarrassment rushing through my blood.
"Tomorrow, then?" He asked softly, voice barely a whisper in the air behind me.
I paused at the top of the steps, a different emotion replacing the mortification. The sun breached the mountain fog, turning the Sidra golden in the valley below and scattering lingering shadows wherever it reached.
Whether friends or more – I left the finale up to you.
Coincidentally, "A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be" by Jess Benko & "i luv him" by Catie Turner played more than once while I wrote this.
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