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#amren acotar
utterlyotterlyx · 3 days
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A Fate Inked In Starlight
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Part Seven
Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel
Series Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.
Warnings - angst, fluff, swearing, memory loss, memory finding
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
(I haven't fully edited this yet, I've been rushing to get this out with the burst of inspo I had for this fic lol)
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"I can't concentrate when you look at me like that," Tia rolled her eyes at you, her large violet eyes that were enough to ward off even the most vile of creatures brimming with unbothered sass and boredom.
Tia craned her long graceful neck, curling it around her claws as she rested it on the ground and huffed, You haven't been able to concentrate all week.
The breeze whistled through the skies, skies of pale blue littered with the fluffiest clouds you'd ever seen, the ocean lapped onto the shores and the grass bristled in anticipation.
That was how the last seven days had gone. Unable to figure out how to return to Velaris, to Eris and Azriel and the people you had come to adore in their own unique ways, you decided that if you were to be stuck in the universe you had created, then you might as well figure a way to break out of it. It was harder than it seemed though, and every day that passed was another day of head splitting agony that threatened to consume you whole.
Of course you couldn't concentrate. Not when the look in Azriel's eyes haunted every step you took, he was so close, so close to grabbing you a risking hurtling himself into the world where you stood without a guarantee he would ever make it back to Velaris. Salt tainted the air and you shivered, wanting nothing more to be back in Autumn without your memories plaguing you with Duke curled up in your lap and your feet atop Eris' thighs.
The memories were there, just in reach for you to beckon from the wide open doors in your mind, but you weren't ready. Even the flurry of jolting images was too much for you to handle, they were all disjointed, none of them made sense really, but you knew that you had gone through an unimaginable loss, a loss that led you to where you were.
Selene and Danika had been nothing short of lovely and understanding toward you, Danika was trying to find out if Bryce was alright, and Selene was focused on you, on listening to the stories of your time in Prythian as they fell from your lips. It was saddening to see her violet eyes glazed over, the desire but bubbling happiness within them as you told her of Nyx, the nephew that she'd never get to meet.
"Yes, well it's because you won't leave me alone," you threw your hands up, exasperated, tendrils of your hair danced in the wind and you felt tired, it had been a long week of trying to summon your power to little avail, only the ocean reacted to you, rushing up the sandbank and flowing up your limbs..
Tia had been pushing you each day, ordering you to pluck the memories from that rippling ocean of starlight in your mind, promising that your power would awaken for it, but you couldn't. Part of you didn't wish to know where you'd come from, and you were fine with that.
Your power won't fully return until you embrace your past, y/n.
The flickering images were enough to convince you that you certainly did not want to know, there would be no embracing anything unless it was totally necessary.
"I can't, Tia," you told the beast, kicking idly at the sand hill in front of you and looking outward to the ocean.
There must have been a reason why the world you had supposedly created felt so serene, safe and guarded, an impenetrable fortress locked away in a far enough place that no one could ever reach.
"Is there more to this place? Are there cities and villages," you glanced about, "Or is it just this?"
You were well aware of how abundant your powers must have been to create a whole other dimension and to be able to pull travelling souls into it, but it seemed less impressive when you thought of how a beach with a pretty house was all that you could do.
You say that as if this isn't enough.
Tia's feline orbs narrowed on you, her body took up half of the shore and her breath was causing your hair to dance more than the wind was. In what world did you ever own her? In what world was the other half of your soul a fucking dragon?
Scales shimmering in the sunlight, Tia's slender neck stretched, her face hovering before your own, you a mere speck in the sand compared to it, "Is it enough?"
Cities, towns and villages exist here, Tia admitted softly, her voice in your mind was a stoic thing of deep feminine beauty, Those who are loved with the purest form adoration come here, to the world you built, a haven for lost and broken souls. Don't ever doubt your abilities again unless you'd like me to burn you.
"You wouldn't dare," you bit as though the words she had just spoken didn't make you want to curl into a ball and cry.
Don't tempt me, Princess.
The resolve that was folded neatly into your consciousness broke, you glanced to your hands and saw the flickers of blood, of bloody hands against a white stone floor, of mangled bodies and lifeless eyes staring up at you. Blinking hard, you drowned out the gargled screams that had forced their way into your head, inhaling shakily and flexing your fingers as the sound subsided.
"Fine. Just one."
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Nesta clutched onto a book, she held it close to her chest and inhaled your scent that still lingered on the pages.
The sunken hollows beneath her eyes were begging for life, for rest, but she refused to give it to them, not until she figured out a way to get to you. There was a moment of pause, a moment where she had found herself curled up in the place where you used to sit in the library, hoping that your lingering aura would tell her what to do, that some part of you left in Prythian would guide her to the answer she sought.
Amren hadn't found anything either, much to Rhys' blaring anger, part of his was ready to denounce his second for what she had done, and Nesta knew that no one would stop him from doing so, your void was impossible to fill.
The shadows around Azriel slumped against him, withering in the pain caused by your disappearance, they were reaching for you too that night and your fingers had almost grazing them, your warmth a sweet melody against their overcast sonnet. Their owner wasn't doing much better, neither was Eris who had no choice but to return to Autumn and face whatever questions posed by Beron.
Visions kept on taking control of Elain leaving her fitting and shuddering, her eyes rolled back into her head and turned milky white more than their usual hue, and all she did was mutter your name as Lucien braced her body against him so that she wouldn't hurt herself.
Prythian had felt lifeless, like you leaving had opened the gates to hell and the most vile beasts were ready to crawl through. The skies were grey, the birds didn't dare to sing, and the world felt as though it had stopped turning.
Then there was the disappearances. Fae males, females and children of all ages vanishing from sight, Cassian was monitoring the situation, he was trying to figure it all out with Rhys and the limited capability of Azriel. They couldn't find anything, nothing that would lead them to the culprit. No bodies. No blood. Nothing.
The House of Wind groaned in the whipping wind, so fierce that it would leave your cheeks red and eyes watering, and Nesta sat there with your favourite book clasped loosely in her fingers, the one you carried with you always decorated in gold foreign markings that held a story of a land that may have existed once but hadn't been whispered of in thousands of years.
Nesta had been looking at the cover of the book for a long few minutes, admiring the hunter green cover and the faded golden scratches.
Scratches.
Nesta frowned, her fingers ghosting over the symbol with her eyebrows stitching themselves together. Flicking through the book, she found more of the intricate markings, ones that mirrored some of the more notable scars on your skin and her breath caught in her throat once she realised what you had done.
Some part of you knew what they meant.
It was clearly your writing, an angelic compilation of curved letters and question marks, and tears formed in her eyes as she spied the markings that would lead her to you.
Nesta rushed about the library, shoving furniture aside as close as it could be against the walls, she threw the woven rug across the room and gazed down at the bare floor like she could already see it opening up beneath her feet. The door opened, hitting against the arm of the chair, and Rhys stood their with Azriel and Cassian peering over his shoulder at her; she guessed that she looked crazy, with the swollen eyes and pale skin, with the hair falling from her coronet, but she didn't care.
"I need paint, something that I can draw with," the book was open in her hands and she knelt on the ground, Rhys must have mentally called for Feyre, because none of the males went to fulfil her request and instead stepped into the room and asked the eldest Archeron sister what she had found. Nesta offered the book to them, the one with your markings and writing etched around the words printed on the page, "They're her markings, she drew them, she wrote what they meant. I think I can use them to find her."
Again, the door swung open to reveal Feyre stood there, looking as exhausted as they all did, with a bucket of onyx paint wrapped in her fingers. Feyre had busied herself with Elain, she was trying to help Lucien care for her whilst also keeping a very close eye on Nyx who slept in the same bed as his parents these days.
The paint sloshed in the container, and Feyre placed it before Nesta who looked to the substance and then back to the pages. She dipped to fingers into the liquid, and her toes curled at the wetness of it, how it seeped into her nailbed and stained her digits.
Nesta carefully copied the markings you had jotted down in the margins of the book, markings of the eight-pointed star, the marking you had written to mean portal, and the one that you had said meant lost, and then she sat back.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, something did.
It was faint at first, a soft glow that they all would have missed if it didn't grow stronger by the second. The onyx paint glowed with veins of emerald green and the candlelight cowered at the pulsating power of it. Black mist drifted upward like a waterfall, splitting and rising, curving like a dome and attaching to the nearest particle until darkness consumed it, the green glow flickering inside of it until that too vanished.
Cassian moved to Nesta's side, his hand latched onto her shoulder just in case he needed to project her away from whatever she had opened on the floor of the library. Chills trickled down their collective spine and that's when Nesta knew that she hadn't opened a portal to you at all.
The soft clicking of heels sounded against the ground, echoing around them, the darkness parted like a curtain and faint white pulsing light flickered in the void, "Well, well. Look who's opened the door this time."
Rhys tensed and bared his teeth, snapping his head to Nesta with a seething breath. Out of the void walked Bryce, eyes cold and distant, a smirk playing on her plump lips, and she leaned against the threshold of the darkness with her arms folded over her chest and red wine hair pooling over her shoulders.
"What are you doing here?"
Bryce smirked, picking a loose thread from the stitching of her leather jacket as her gaze wandered about the room, "Don't ask me what I'm doing here. walked through an open door," her attention fell to Nesta, "I knew you had it in you," her eyes sparkled and fell to the book resting in Nesta's lap, she looked displaced, surprised by it, like it had been lost and now found, "Where did you get that?"
Confused, Nesta looked at the book littered in your scribe, allowing her mind to cast itself back to when you had first formed the attachment with it. It had spoke to you, you had told her, on a level deeper that spiritual.
"That's not your story to hold," Bryce growled, throwing her hand and beckoning for the bundle of pages, "It's the only thing that remains of her, give it to me."
Nesta rose to her feet and found herself needing to know why Bryce was so intent in taking the worn out thing from her grip, why tears were brimming in the corners of her eyes and desperation was bubbling within her, "Of who?"
"Y/N."
Nesta snapped her gaze to Rhys whose gaze softened at the name, his guard dropping if only slightly, "How do you know her?" Azriel asked, his voice low and hoarse, like he had cried his throat raw.
"How do I- What? She's my friend, she helped us defeat the most inhuman thing you could ever imagine and dragged it through a portal. I tried to find her, but I couldn't. She was just, gone."
The cogs began to turn.
That day Eris had found you, he said you were covered in blood, wearing a foreign armour and had talons sharp enough to tear flesh upon your fingers; he had said it looked as though you had stumbled right into Autumn from the battlefield. It was because you had, and you had brought something with you.
The claws scraping across Prythian belonged to whatever you had dragged with you, to the thing that had laid dormant to not alert you to its presence, but now that you were gone. Gods.
"When you say that this," Nesta held up the book, "Is the only thing left of her. What does that mean?"
Bryce blinked hard, her whisky amber eyes blazing in their sockets, "That's her story, someone alive during the time of the collapse of her empire wrote of it, of her and everything she lost. Give it to me, she'd want me to protect it."
It was clear that Bryce was unaware that you were still alive, maybe, and even Rhys felt a pang of sympathy for the whimpering girl before his eyes, "Y/N isn't dead. A week ago she was here, with us. Now she's gone."
"She was here?"
Azriel hummed, "Yes. She had no memory of who she was, we called her Flora. As soft as a petal in the rain at Spring."
Bryce scoffed in disbelief, "If she fell here then that means,” she trailed off with widened eyes that moved to gaze beyond the window to the dark clouds clinging to the skies, “It means he’s here too.”
The roomed dimmed, the sound of Bryce’s rushed breaths swelled inside of the four walls protecting them from the evil lurking beyond, it was watching them inquisitively, awaiting to see their next move. Azriel took a step forward, head tilted to the side and examining the girl before him, “Who?”
“Cados. Her brother,” wind rattled against the windows at the name like it was a forbidden thing, that to speak it meant death; branches scratched against the panes, “We have to find her. You don't know what he can do, she's the only one who can stop him."
"We're trying," Nesta's voice was quiet and wavering, she sounded as defeated as she looked as she held that book close to her chest.
Bryce's gaze softened, the portal rippled behind her in question, and then Bryce saw just how badly they were handling your disappearance. It reminded her of the time when you had sacrificed yourself for them, when she and Ruhn and Hunt had to watch hopelessly from the torched battleground as you tumbled through the sky wrapped around Cados' body, pulling him through one of your portals.
Bryce had waited weeks for you to come back until she succumbed to the gut wrenching realisation that you may not have made it.
There was no one as fierce as you, no one as cocky and intelligent, no one who had planned everything so meticulously that everyone around you would unknowingly follow each turn in the story. If you wanted someone to do something, they would, whether they knew it or not.
They called you Flora. You would have howled at the name, the pretty floral note that was stark in its difference to how Lunathion knew you.
"Do you have something of hers? When I landed here it was because the Starsword had called to Truthteller, like calls to like. If you do then perhaps we can use it to find her," Bryce motioned between herself and Nesta.
Rhys shuffled on his feet, "Her armour is here, would that suffice?"
The red wine haired girl nodded gently, the gears in her mind churning, "It would," she visibly winced like she had just realised something, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling through it, "I'll have to bring my clan through. Maybe try not to maim them Mr High Lord."
Nesta smirked, forgetting how much she loved the sarcasm and wit that consumed Bryce, and when Nesta thought of it, it made complete sense that she would be your friend. She could almost see it, the fleeting image of you in a tight dress swaying to the horrid music that had sang from that odd device in the cave that day. It seemed as though you were some kind of traveller of sorts.
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One memory.
One tiny little memory.
But which one?
Orbs of frosted glass glowed in the open doorway that you had been avoiding, hovering at different heights and previewing images playing on the surface, and each one emitted its own soft audio, a glimpse into what you once were.
Standing in the centre of the pitch black pit, you struggled to choose one.
The ground rippled like when a pebble dropped into a shallow lake, flowing outward in a circular formation with every step you took. A thin black gown hung from your shoulders, there was no form to it, and the hem was damp from kissing the ground.
The spheres bobbed along like apples in a barrel at a fair, floating in front of your face. War. Love. Sex. Heartache. Friendships. It was all there in front of you, your story, but you didn't know where to start.
One of the orbs glowed brighter than the rest, it held an electric blue hue to it, the searing heat of it forcing smoke to rise and dance upward into the non-existent atmosphere, a house without shelter. The air shifted, it grew heavy and dense with desire, and you knew that orb of blue fire was the one.
Fire exploded around you, coating the walls and slithering along the ground, but not touching you, not harming you in any way. There was a woman, gold hair and blue eyes that matched your own, they even held the same currents of gold as yours did; she was regal, a queen if you'd ever seen one, and you were a ghost in the memory.
A version of you walked with her, arm in arm, through an all too familiar forest, turrets loomed overhead but not in a threatening way. There was a certain pity in her eyes that stirred a familiar pain in your gut, this version of you didn't look like you at all, she was a shell, young, pale and cowering, skin clear compared to what you now wore.
How old was this memory?
Words were muffled, and you had to to take a step forward to follow the flurry of words, to follow where the woman was taking you, ducking under arched branches and feeling peace with the trickle of the babbling brooks. It was a magical place, so magical that you felt your own magic swim inside of you.
The woman was so familiar, you found yourself examining her face, always floating back to those eyes, she didn't look much older than you but you weren't sure if that was due to the fae aging that clearly dwelt within her.
Her words was simple and soft, she was sorry, she would avenge your pain, she would make sure your home lay with her always, she would always stand with you, she would never allow you to feel alone and forgotten.
To whatever end.
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Authors Note
It's finally hereeeeeee x
I know it's been ages, I'm so sorry! I kind of got into a writing slump with this fic as I started other projects :(
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itsswritten · 1 month
Text
wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
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"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice laced with excitement, drawing your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms. She sat opposite you, mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward, eager to share her tale.
You and your friends had found yourselves nestled in the cosy confines of one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. Wine flowed freely as tales and laughter danced around. 
Amidst the flickering faelight, you sat beside your mate, Azriel's presence a comforting anchor as he enveloped you in his embrace. His fingers wove intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation cascading through your body. If it weren't for the lively chatter of your friends echoing through the room, his touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber.
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly bewildered expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch settling on the small of your back.
Cassian, ever the jovial one, added with a grin. "My experience was quite a shock," he confessed, running a hand through his hair in mock exasperation.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” he grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at the theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry and matter-of-fact.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful hidden wings.
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Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It had been one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world, and she had been craving a night off to enjoy the simple joys of laughter and the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her need for respite, you, Mor, and Nesta took it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls' night out for your High Lady.
The night had unfolded into a whirlwind of laughter and dancing, Rita’s becoming your sanctuary for the night as you all lost yourselves to the rhythmic beats and infectious energy. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours slipping away like grains of sand through an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
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Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
 𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
 𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
 𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your pleas for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, my love," he chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing."
As the playful assault continued, your laughter filled the room, intermingling with the contagious mirth of your friends. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate and beautiful membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. Your wings outstretched resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink glow that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them.
"There she is…" Azriel murmured under his breath, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you. Pride filled his chest as he gazed at your wings outstretched in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn't just your mate gazing at you with love. No, your family found themselves grinning from ear to ear, their eyes alight with admiration as they basked in your radiant glow. 
A glow they were grateful for, and one they would never tire of.
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a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
1K notes · View notes
nebarious · 13 days
Text
Y/N: *sits next to az* So I've been wondering
Azriel: Wondering what?
Y/N: What's your type?
*Inner Circle materialised out of nowhere*
Cassian: Good question
Rhys: Allow us to elaborate on his behalf
Amren: He likes someone who is kind
Feyre: Someone who loves their family
Nesta: Someone who hail from the night court
Elain: Someone who has dark hair and violet eyes
Cassian: Someone who is half Illyrian half high fae
Rhys: Someone who grew up with him and is loved by his shadows
Y/N: That kinda describes rhys. Too bad he's with our beautiful feyre
Y/N: *looks at az* Don't worry, I'm sure there is someone who is just like rhys and not taken
IC: *groans* Hopeless!
Azriel: They forgot to mention dense
989 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 4 months
Text
“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance
⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽‍♀️
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽‍♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗
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“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”
Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.
And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.
“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.
His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.
“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.
“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.
“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.
Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.
“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.
“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.
After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.
“What can I help you with today?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”
Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.
A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.
“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.
You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.
Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.
Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”
The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.
Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.
Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,
“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”
You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”
He raised his brow and you with amusement,
“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.
You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.
“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”
He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.
“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.
“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”
He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.
Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.
Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.
“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”
Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.
His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.
“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”
Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.
“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”
Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”
“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.
You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.
His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.
“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.
Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.
The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.
Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.
“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”
His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.
“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.
Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.
He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.
“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.
Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.
Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.
“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”
Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”
Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.
“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.
You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.
In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.
Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.
The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.
Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.
Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.
“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.
Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.
“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.
"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.
“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.
“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.
He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.
“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”
You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,
“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”
You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.
Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,
“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”
You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.
“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”
You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.
“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”
You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.
You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.
“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.
Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.
Something that should've been a mundane task.
However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.
A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.
Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.
Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.
He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.
Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.
Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.
You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.
The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.
“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”
Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.
His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.
A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.
It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.
Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.
“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”
Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.
The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.
“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“
His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.
You nodded, desperate for him.
“Please, let me make you a daddy.”
With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.
You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.
If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”
You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.
He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.
“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”
His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.
“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.
After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.
“Rhysie?”
“Yes, love?”
“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”
His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.
Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.
Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.
If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.
Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…
The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.
Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.
During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.
You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”
You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.
You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.
He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.
He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.
Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.
Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.
“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.
“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.
Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.
His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.
Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.
Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.
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🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath
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lunaduskxo · 2 months
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The IC by tangerine.eileen on IG 😍
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Edited to add that you can purchase this print on their Etsy. Link is in their ig bio ❤️
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yaralulu · 2 months
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Amren to a very depressed nesta “You have become a pathetic waste of life.”
Rhys to a very depressed tamlin “"I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here.”
what the fuck is up the IC’s ass that they feel this need to be awful to very depressed people who are literally hanging on by a thread.
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mother-above · 2 months
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All the Time in the World
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.
Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)
*masterlist*
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Everything happens for a reason.
Those are five words that people say to cope with and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, the way your hair blew in the wind, how your arms were lifted so you could feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams, so vibrant and full of life. Tugging their hands to make them hurry up and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.
The words “everything happens for a reason” would be whispered before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was that missing piece, a void that could never be filled.
You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, that the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life and you just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down and the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain.
Fae with your powers could never live underground forever, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but Keir acted too late, your power had grown and could no longer be contained.
When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. By the time they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time in your life. Around you were granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, there was a gaping hole that came straight from the depths of the mountain. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.
Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you looked at the male with violet eyes. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”
Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.
That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and were able to manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine.
Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and a volcano erupted in Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right about you. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream on that pitch before.
One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.
You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.
Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped your sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face.
“Azriel! Come here!”
He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water making his black shirt stick onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there dumbstruck.
“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel.
Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse dripping wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Sometimes one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.
The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating, no one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every single one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either.
One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.
“Have you guys fucked yet?”
You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”
“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”
You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”
Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”
“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”
Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.
“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor.
“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”
Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”
One week later, you finally had the courage to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the storm clouds in the distance. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.
“Are you okay?” Azriel’s full attention was on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss.
You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”
Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream.
“Oh gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.
Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.”
Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”
Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”
Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to you pulled him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.
A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”
Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”
You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.
“Ahem.”
You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”
Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”
“Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”
Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”
Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future, what we want, what our boundaries are.”
Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.
He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. “Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready.
How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city.
Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger.
Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.
Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were down.
Please don’t do that. It’s too dangerous. There must be another way!
Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.
That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.
Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you were above the worm, you let out a strangled scream as you let out every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the Middengard caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel.
Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in.
***
They never recovered your body. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, upon Azriel’s request, he made sure it was placed near the Sidra.
The inner circle was destroyed by your death. Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse.
Everything had turned upside down, it rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Beron never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of autumnal flowers and red and orange leaves. You had once complimented the russet dahlias that lined his estate and he never forgot about it.
Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when they could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.
Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was duller, the stars didn’t shine as brightly, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be.
Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had passed but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.
The inner circle had gone through so much since you passed, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.
 ‘Rhys was stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel was being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. Cassian suspected he was mates with Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’
Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand and admired all the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.
“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”
The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears.
Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron.
“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.
Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’sin there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”
Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there?
Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”
Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off of her face.
Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Call me pathetic but I made myself tear up writing this lmaooo. Should I do a part 2? Please let me know what you think in the comments!
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Text
This Love
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love
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Warnings: None
Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift
Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video
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Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.
“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”
“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.
“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.
“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”
“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.
“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”
Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.
He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.
He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.
“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”
“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”
“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”
“I would never put her on the spot like that.”
“I wasn’t suggesting–”
“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.
“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.
“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”
“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.
Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.
“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”
“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”
“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”
Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.
“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.
“Don’t,” Cassian warned.
Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”
The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.
He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.
He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.
Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.
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Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.
Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.
While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.
“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.
Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.
She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.
Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.
The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.
“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.
She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.
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The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.
“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.
As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.
Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.
Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.
Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.
Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.
But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.
Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”
With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.
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The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.
He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.
She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.
The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.
A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.
“Are you quite parched, yet?”
She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.
“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.
They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.
“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.
Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.
With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”
The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.
“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.
She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.
Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.
His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.
“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.
“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.
“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”
She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.
Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.
He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.
She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.
She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.
Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.
She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.
As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.
Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.
She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.
She understood.
“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.
He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.
“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.
“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.
“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.
She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.
“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”
“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”
736 notes · View notes
illyrian-dreamer · 2 months
Text
And Then There Were None – Part 1
Azriel/fem!reader
Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.
Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.
Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.
Part 2>>>
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Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage
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Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one. 
Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days. 
There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.
There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.
A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.
Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.
You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.
You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.
At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days. 
A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well. 
It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them. 
It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn. 
Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools. 
Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.
Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.
Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.
Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.
Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.
In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then. 
Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.
More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears. 
Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.
And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.
You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone. 
In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder. 
In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.
But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.
Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one. 
Something truly terrible had happened.
And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat. 
As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next. 
People. You needed to find people.
————
Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched. 
The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.
Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.
Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.
With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.
The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons. 
Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.
Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth. 
From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap. 
They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end. 
The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.
Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.
Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.
Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact. 
————
It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.
Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber. 
But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously. 
Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk. 
You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.
Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again. 
A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around. 
And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.
Fae.
Fae had come. 
Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps. 
The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive. 
Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.
Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide. 
The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle… 
The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.
Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.
From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size. 
“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.
There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through. 
“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.
No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.
Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream. 
Black furling wisps coated your boots.
And then the door opened.
The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart. 
A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain. 
It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together. 
You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back. 
For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do. 
“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"
The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again. 
Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too. 
Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”
You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal. 
Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you. 
“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had. 
“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell. 
It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip. 
“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through. 
You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed. 
As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.
“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent. 
Your answered with a scowl. 
“What is your name?” it demanded. 
“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness. 
You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to. 
Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”
“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated. 
He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size. 
“You need aide.”
You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it. 
He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.
He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile. 
“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap. 
You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”
The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.
The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.” 
You scowled, not inclined to believe them. 
“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”
Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice. 
“The-the curse breaker?”
A small smile cocked on both of the males faces. 
“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”
A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere. 
Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"
"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"
Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"
“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"
“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”
Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…
“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest. 
Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”
“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”
Mother above.
You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.
“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”
“She might refuse,” the larger one countered. 
“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood. 
They continued their mutter without once turning to you.
“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”
A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.
A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm. 
The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy,  you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back. 
In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you. 
Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes. 
Loathing coiled within you. 
“Release me,” you spat.
“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision. 
Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black. 
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Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic
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Princess
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One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it. I’ll be posting every second day until I make more progress so I can post every day.
Azriel x f!Reader
Masterlist
Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?
Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death, swearing, smut(18+)
Any chapter that contains smut will be marked with *
Series masterlist
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14 (coming soon)
If you like my work send your requests. It will be my pleasure to deliver your fantasies with a touch of my own. Bat boys requests are welcome! 🖤🦇
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lilac-witch · 10 days
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Hii can I request a eris vanserra x mate!reader fic. Like they have been mayed for a long long time, and the inner circle wants to caputre her to put some pressure on eris, and lucian tells them not to becaus she is a very kind person. But they go with it and find out she is pregnant. Some Angry eris. Sorry if its a lot, I have had it on my mind for a long time, but i cant write
Bedlam - Eris Vanserra x Reader
masterlist
Summary: Reader is kidnapped by the inner circle in an attempt to persuade Eris. Only, their plot doesn't end the way they intended. Meaning: "a scene or state of wild uproar and confusion" Word Count: 781 Warnings: Strong language, mentions of murder.
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"So we're all clear on the plan?" Rhys questioned, eyes meeting those of his inner circle.
Cassian, Azriel and Mor nodded in confirmation.
"Right, get in as quickly as you can, as silent as you can. We'll meet back here in an hour."
“You’re going to regret it.”
All eyes turned to Lucian Vanserra, who stood leaning against the doorframe.
“I think we’re ok, Lucian, but thank you for your concern,” Rhys drawled.
Lucian shook his head before slowly exiting the room. “It’s your funeral.”
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The day had begun as usual. The sun had filtered through the sheer fabric of the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with the soft light of morning. Eris had placed gentle kisses on her neck before making his way into the bathroom, preparing for a gruelling day full of meetings.
Y/n had eaten her breakfast on the terrace, as she did every morning, and observed Eris' prized smokehounds engage in play fights. For creatures that were supposed to strike fear in the hearts of the most fearsome warriors, to her they just looked like balls of fluff.
And then everything took a turn for the worst.
Swirling shadows enveloped her body, dragging her up and away from her seat. Y/n could vaguely make out the tattooed arms that caged her to a solid chest. Before she could scream, a cloth was placed gently over her mouth. Hard enough to muffle the noise, yet soft enough to allow her to breathe.
Y/n's mind went into overdrive, her fear sparking down that golden mating bond. There was nothing she could do as she watched the red and orange trees of Autumn disappear from view, nothing she could do when day turned to night.
At last, those shadows dissipated from around her body, revealing the faces of seven people. At the centre of the group stood Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.
She watched as his lips twitched into a devasting grin.
"Apologies for the abrupt departure, lady, but-"
"I hope you are not likening kidnapping to a consensual trip, my lord, because they are very much not the same thing," she hissed, teeth bared in challenge.
"I will admit, our methods were slightly... unceremonious, but necessary nonetheless."
Y/n stared wide eyes, mouth agape, at the raven-haired High Lord. How dare he! How dare he attempt to justify his actions!
A sudden wave of nausea drifted over her, stomach twisting.
"Oh gods, I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, a hand coming to rest over her slightly rounded stomach.
Feyre's eyes widened in alarm, swiftly summoning a bucket and passing it over. Y/n hunched over and hurled, the stress finally consuming her.
"You idiot, Rhys! She's pregnant and you just stole her from her home!" Feyre shouted at her mate, guilt and sympathy crawling up her throat.
"Feyre darling, I swear I didn't know! If I had, we would have never gone ahead with the plan," Rhys pleaded, eyes flashing in apology.
"I should fucking hope so Rhysand, because you had no right, no fucking right to abduct my mate," a voice growled from behind the High Lord of Night.
Eris...
Her mate strode in, a vision of power and fury. The fire that flowed through his veins now glowed brightly in his eyes, highlighting the level of his anger, and the temper that threatened to tear the room apart.
He was at her side in an instant, hand raising to rest over hers on her stomach, lips meeting her forehead gently.
"Are you alright, love?"
Y/n waved him off. "Fine darling, more irritated than anything else."
Eris turned to the inner circle, teeth bared. "I'm in half a mind to slaughter you all for the stress you've caused my mate and unborn child."
Rhys stepped forward, hands raised in surrender. "I swear on the Mother, Eris, had we known, we would have never touched her. You have my most sincere apologies. We were simply looking for a way to persuade you to join our cause."
"And you thought the best way was to kidnap my pregnant mate? Not to simply ask first?" he hissed, arms having circled around her waist protectively.
No one moved, let alone spoke. It was as though the air in the room had frozen, freezing everything in the frame.
"If I ever catch you in Autumn again.... if I ever catch you looking at my mate, let alone touching her, I will obliterate you before you have a chance to retaliate," Eris swore, giving each member of the inner circle one last vicious look, before winnowing them back to the safety of their home.
After a moment of silence, Cassian's voice filled the void.
"Well, I guess future vacations in Autumn are out of the question."
-------------
Hi lovelies!
As you might have seen, I had a 2k draft ready that seemingly deleted itself :(
So while I attempt to rewrite that draft, I thought I would quickly write something for the last request in my inbox, as an apology for the delay :)
I'm very excited for the posts to come, even after the lost draft fiasco, and I can't wait to share everything with you!
Tag List: @mybestfriendmademe
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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month
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Skin and Bones
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Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.
Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing
Based of this ask
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The teasing had become a common occurrence.
It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.
Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.
He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.
Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.
You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.
And that was saying something.
"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."
Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.
"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.
Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."
Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."
Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.
"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"
"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."
Mari was right. You did look incredible.
Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.
With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.
They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.
Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?
Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.
Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."
"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.
"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."
"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.
"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."
That's it. Y/N.
Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.
But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.
"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."
Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."
"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."
Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."
A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.
Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.
Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.
She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.
Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.
Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.
"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"
It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.
Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."
"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.
It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"
His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."
Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."
You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.
His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"
You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.
It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.
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hellodarling1357 · 4 months
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Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 3
Hello hello!!! Part 3 is finalllyyyyy here, I’m so sorry for the wait. It’s a bit of a filler chapter but the next part should (hopefully) be up soon.
Here’s a link to part 1 and part 2 ✨
Enjoy and let me know what you think 🥰
Word Count: 2.3k
Your feet stumbled as you came to an abrupt halt, unable to tear your eyes away from the pair walking along the other side of the river.
The male you had let yourself believe you had a chance with, and the female, Evalina, who was clearly his perfect match.
Cassian and Evalina had been together almost two decades ago before their relationship was ripped to shreds by such a monumental fight that no one had dared asked Cassian what had caused it.
Although you had been concerned for Cassian during the fallout, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden joy that coursed through you at the thought of Evalina no longer being around.
It seems, however, you were wrong.
Embarrassment washed over you as you realised this is what Cassian would’ve wanted to talk to you about this morning; he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying and, oh, by the way, Evalina is back in the picture.
“Y/N?”
Mor pulled you from your thoughts, her eyes tracking over to see what had you stopping, causing her to let out a sigh as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and forced you to keep moving.
“Come on. Let’s skip dinner and get you nice and drunk.”
You wouldn’t argue with that.
*****
“Hello ladies, welcome, welcome,” A handsome fae male greeted as you stepped inside the cozy wine bar. “How can I help you today? Table for two?”
You let Mor answer and guide you to your seat, too caught up in self pity to say anything to the male.
“Now,” He said with a clap of his hands and a dazzling smile. “My name is Bryn, owner of this establishment and your server for today. We are fairly new here and are missing a few shipments so our drinks list is somewhat limited, but I’ll do my best. What were you both after?”
Mor shot you a glance but you were preoccupied with looking out the window, torturing yourself by trying to catch a glance of where Cassian and Evalina might have gone.
“Just a bottle of wine please,” Another glance in your direction had Mor adding, “And two shots of vodka”
With a chuckle, Bryn took your menus and promised to be right back with your drinks.
“So,” You glanced back at Mor as she spoke, knowing your face was the picture of misery but unable to bring yourself to care. “Are you finally going to admit to me that you’re head over heels in love with Cassian, or do I have to keep pretending not to notice?”
You let out a groan and placed your head on the table.
A soft “ahem” caused you to jump up, cheeks flushing, as you realised Bryn had just arrived with two shot glasses.
You gave him a sheepish look and muttered a quick “thanks”, kicking Mor under the table as she laughed at you and your clearly broken heart.
Downing the shot, you glared back at Mor before reaching across the table and downing her shot as well.
“Hey!” Mor grumbled as you slammed the glass down.
Before you could respond, Bryn appeared again, bottle of clear liquid in hand.
“Looks like you might need this,” he said as he filled up both glasses again. “It’s on the house.”
Mor quickly grabbed her glass back before you could finish both of them off again.
With a sigh you pushed your now-empty shot glass towards the middle of the table.
“Is it really that obvious?”
“Yes.”
“Does Cassian know?” If he knew it would make the whole mess of a situation so much worse.
“I don’t know, Y/N. But I’m not sure if—“
You were hardly listening to what she was saying as you replayed the past 24 hours and the emotional roller coaster you had endured.
“I feel so stupid,” Mor stared back at you in silence, giving you a small smile that encouraged you to continue. “Last night, once we got back, we were just arguing back and forth, just about dumb things, and then he said…he was drunk, really drunk, but he said he loved me.”
Two wine glasses were placed in front of you and you graciously took a sip, unable to bring yourself to meet Mor’s eye.
“He said he loved me, and…I don’t know, I passed it off as him being drunk and just being him. But then, before he went to bed, he said it again, and the way he looked at me…,” You let out a heavy sigh before taking another sip of wine. “I just feel so stupid for letting myself think, hope, that it was real and that he actually meant it. But then this morning he wanted to talk, and now that Evalina is back in the picture…” You trailed off, still trying to piece your thoughts together.
Mor was silent for a moment as she turned over all you had said. It didn’t make any sense. She had seen you and Cassian together, the way you looked at one another, the joking and back-and-forth banter, the way both of your feelings were obvious to everyone except yourselves. But maybe she had been wrong…
“It might not be what you think it is,” Mor finally said. “Maybe just give yourself a couple of days, get some distance from him so you can sort out your own thoughts. Then we’ll work it out.”
Giving her a small smile, you nodded in response before changing the topic.
“Enough about me,” A sly smile spread across your face. “Will your friend from last night be joining us at Starfall this year?”
*****
You didn’t need to try too hard at avoiding Cassian over the next few days. Despite the upcoming celebrations, your workload remained never ending, allowing you only fleeting greetings as you crossed paths with one another.
As luck would have it, the week before Starfall, Rhys sent Cassian to Illyria to look into some rumoured wing clippings that had started springing up across some of the smaller camps. Although you missed him and worried about your friend whilst he was away, you found a sense of relief filling you as you were no longer having to hide away to avoid him.
You knew you would have to talk it out eventually, but for now you let yourself ignore the emotional turmoil and instead focused on the upcoming Starfall celebrations.
*****
You were just adding the finishing touches to your makeup when there was a knock on your door, followed by Mor letting herself in, not waiting for you to answer.
“Hello to you too.” You smiled at your friend in the mirror as you swiped some blush over your other cheek.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted as she passed you a generously filled glass of wine before setting herself down in one of the armchairs.
“Says you, you look absolutely stunning.” Mor just brushed off your compliment with a wave of her hand.
“Well go on, let’s see the dress. Everyone will be arriving soon.”
Taking a sip of wine, you walked over to your changing room, haphazardly throwing your silk robe onto the floor as you donned your Starfall dress.
Despite yourself, and the whirlwind the past two weeks had been, you couldn’t help but look forward to tonight. The distance from Cassian had helped you sort through your racing thoughts and allowed you to compose yourself enough to act as though nothing had changed.
Cassian had been delayed at one of the war camps and, according to Mor, had only returned to Velaris a few hours ago. Having been locked away with Rhys upon his return to go over his reports, and then with you spending the better part of the day bathing and getting yourself ready, you were yet to actually see him.
With a sigh you brushed out the skirt of your dress before grabbing your shoes and heading back out to the main part of your bedroom where Mor was waiting.
“I told you it was the perfect dress.” Mor squealed excitedly at the sight of you.
Grinning back at her, you quickly slid into your shoes before doing a final check over. You could feel your nerves start to flutter at the thought of seeing Cassian again, most likely with Evalina by his side if the other night was anything to go off.
With a final deep breath, you picked up your wine glass and turned to Mor.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
*****
The echo of music and excited chatter flowed down the hallway as the two of you headed towards the crowd. A quick glance around the room told you Cassian was yet to join and you felt your tension somewhat ebbing away as you and Mor headed over to where Rhys, Azriel, and Amren stood.
You lost yourself in the music and just being able to enjoy the night with your friends, your worries from earlier were long gone, the multiple drinks you had consumed definitely playing a helpful factor.
Noticing everyone’s glasses were getting low, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar to get the next round.
Patiently waiting for a tray of five glasses, you leant against the wall and watched the party before you in a contented silence. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you were also keeping an eye out for a certain red-siphoned Illyrian who you had yet to spot.
“Well you’re definitely looking better compared to the last time I saw you.”
You startled at the fae male who suddenly appeared by your side.
“Hi…” You trailed off, giving him an apologetic smile. He definitely looked familiar but you couldn’t place where you had met.
“Bryn.” He laughed. “You and your friend visited my bar the other week. Though I don’t blame you for not remembering me, seemed like you had quite a bit on your mind.” He finished with a wink at your clearly embarrassed expression as you thought back to your sorry state that night.
“Bryn, of course. How are you? How’s business?”
Shooting you another grin, he excitedly said, “Oh, it’s really great. Been pretty busy so that’s keeping me busy, but I do love it. We have a similar establishment in the Dawn Court but my partner is originally from here so we decided it was time to move back. Actually…would you excuse me? I believe one of the guests over there dabbles in the selling of fine wines…”
You blinked in response to his faced paced chatter and his sudden retreating figure, shaking your head a bit with a chuckle at what felt like the conversation equivalent of whiplash.
“Miss…” A voice called out, “Your drinks.”
Turning back to the bar, you hurried over for the tray, offering a gracious smile before heading into the throng of people to where your friends stood.
“Well you took your time, did someone catch your eye?” You rolled your eyes at Mor’s teasing as the others chuckled and thanked you for the drinks.
“Actually,” you started, giving Mor a dismissive look when she excitedly perked up. “Bryn, the owner of that new bar we went to the other week, is here, he was just telling me how it was all going. Here, someone hold this, I’m just going to take the tray back.”
You handed your glass off to Azriel before weaving your way back towards the bar. You waved at Bryn as you passed, who was now animatedly talking to who you assumed was the wine seller.
Movement behind you and the sudden call of your name had you looking around, your heart dropping as you were suddenly stood in front of Cassian and Evalina.
You gaped for a moment before quickly collecting yourself and plastering on a smile.
“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re back.”
Cassian gave you a soft smile, opening his mouth to say something but Evalina cut in.
“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Cauldron, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You stiffened as she locked her arm around Cassian’s, a smirk gracing her features. “Can you believe that I’ve finally found my mate?”
And there it was.
You felt the blood rush to your head, the surrounding sounds of the party becoming a distant murmur as your body tensed and eyes went wide.
Her mate. Cassian was her mate, and she was his, and…
“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cassian’s concerned voice had everything rushing back into focus.
You blinked up at him, cursing yourself for the burning sensation as tears welled in your eyes.
You didn’t know what to say, you should be happy for him, for them. But you couldn’t muster the energy to pretend anymore, not as you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.
Ignoring Cassian’s question and the bewilderment on Evalina’s face, you turned on the spot and walked away.
*****
Sorry… 👀
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lucysstoryworld · 30 days
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The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)
Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.
Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.
Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.
No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!
Words: 3620
Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.
“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.
Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”
Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.
Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.
Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.
Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.
With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.
***
Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.
Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.
With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.
***
Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.
"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.
Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.
The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.
Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.
Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.
Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.
"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."
A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.
"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."
"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.
"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.
Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.
"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"
"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.
"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.
"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.
"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.
"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."
Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.
Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.
"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.
Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"
"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."
"Rhys," Feyre warned.
The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.
"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"
"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."
"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.
"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."
Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.
"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.
"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.
To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.
"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.
"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.
"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."
Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.
Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.
His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.
Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."
Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.
Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.
And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.
190 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 16 days
Text
— “You were flirting with me?”
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pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls
warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,
amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗
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You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.
Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.
Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.
“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.
“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”
You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”
And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.
Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.
He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.
With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.
The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.
But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.
So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.
Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.
Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?
He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.
Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.
He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.
“Hey.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?
“Yeah?”
He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.
“How have you been?”
You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.
“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”
Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.
Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.
“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”
A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.
Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.
”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”
Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.
"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.
"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.
"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.
"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.
Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.
“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.
“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.
“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.
You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”
Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”
Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.
“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.
"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.
Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.
As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.
You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.
Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.
"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”
Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.
“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.
“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”
Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”
Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.
You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”
Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”
You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”
Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”
The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?
“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.
Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”
Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”
Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”
Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”
Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,
“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”
Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”
Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”
Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.
You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.
As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.
You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.
Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.
His presence was undeniable.
Azriel was here.
Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.
"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.
"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.
"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.
Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows
"You look absolutely breathtaking."
Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.
You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.
”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”
Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."
A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.
"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."
Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.
As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.
Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."
Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.
Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”
You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.
"May I-"
"Yes."
It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.
His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.
You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.
Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.
“Are you okay?”
“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.
With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.
“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.
Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”
The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.
“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat
“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.
”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.
“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.
You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.
As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.
“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”
In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.
You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."
"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.
Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."
You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.
Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.
“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”
extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:
Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.
"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.
Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.
"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.
Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."
Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."
Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."
Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."
Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”
Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"
Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."
Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”
"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”
Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”
Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 month
Text
Name Your Price — Amren x Reader (Starfall Week)
Hiiii! Here’s my little piece for @starfallweek 2024. I hope you all like it 💕my beautiful soulmate @greeneyedivy helped me name it 💅🏻
I used the prompt “character A finally makes a move on character B”. I’ve never written for Amren before so this was quite fun!
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 3.9k
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“You’re sure you don’t want me to fly you back up?”
Cassian cocks an eyebrow at you, the steadiness of his hold dissipating as he tugs his arms from around you. Though your feet are on solid ground, it takes a moment for your equilibrium to right itself. Being in the skies is something you haven’t yet become accustomed to, despite three of your closest friends sporting wings. And being flown on Starfall is an experience entirely of its own.
“You’ll miss the best part,” Cass complains, peering up at the dark canopy above you. The sky is beginning to stir as the stars ready themselves for their journeys. It won’t be long before they’re soaring and crossing.
And tempting as it is to stay and watch the sight that never lessens in its magnificence, you feel…different this year. Like there’s somewhere else you ought to be. Someone else you ought to be with.
“I’m sure,” you dip your chin. “You go, Cass. Enjoy it.”
But he doesn’t move. He studies you head to toe, studies every shred of effort you put into your appearance — hair and makeup perfected, a stunning outfit hugging your body. You feel beautiful, no doubt — and yet you’re leaving after a mere hour of drinking on the balcony with your friends.
“You know she’s just going to be holed up in her apartment with the curtains drawn,” Cass says. “She hates Starfall.”
You cock an eyebrow. “Who?”
“You know who.”
Amren.
Is it little bit humiliating that you’re so damn transparent? Perhaps. But Cass is one of your closest companions — you can hardly expect him to believe that you’re simply leaving to return to your own home and switch your stunning dress for your pyjamas.
You shrug a shoulder. “I just want to check on her, is all.”
“Hmm,” your friend’s lips twitch. “I’m sure.”
With a roll of your eyes, you swat his ludicrously huge arm. “Go back to the party,” but you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you — for flying me.”
“Good luck with the tiny little rain cloud. She’ll be even crankier tonight than usual.”
With a lopsided smirk and a fond — and annoying — mussing of your hair, he launches back into the sky and heads back to the House of Wind. You stare after him, wondering if you’re making the right choice.
Because when Amren says she wants to be left alone, she means it. But…you don’t know. Things have been changing. Things have been…different.
This is your third Starfall, since your move to the Night Court after the war. A native of the Day Court, it had surprised you to find yourself so at home in a place of starlight, so opposite to what you’d always known. But as one of Helion Spell-Cleaver’s nearest and dearest, you’d worked closely with Rhysand and his Inner Circle during those fraught times of battle and bloodshed — and bonded with them far more than you’d ever expected yourself to. Become an honorary member of their unit, so to speak.
And when Rhysand had courteously invited you for a visit to Velaris after the war was over, you’d known from the second your feet had touched the cobbled streets — this was where you were supposed to be.
Three years later, with a home here, a job as a Night courtier…it was hard to imagine you’d ever been anywhere else.
And perhaps the most notable and unexpected connection you’d forged was the one you had with the with the tiny creature whose barbed, edged words were — you’d learned — a sign of affection.
You did not understand Amren one bit. She was a mystery you couldn’t puzzle out, a being that was sometimes so harsh, it was hard to believe she had any warmth in her at all. But Rhysand giving the two of you a subject he’d needed you to research together had brought you closer, over the recent months. Had shredded through that trepidation you’d once felt around her and shifted it into something…different. Something exciting.
You find that try as you might, you can’t stay away.
And that’s how you find yourself strolling those cobbled streets of Velaris, dressed up to the nines and stars beginning to burst above you. You could be spectating the brilliant sight with your friends, but something tugs you towards the other side of the city. To the loft apartment with the sloping windows and the strange, intriguing female who dwells within
Indeed, as you approach, you find those windows to be blacked out. Blocking out the sight of what is occurring in the skies. You almost smile, but now you’re nervous and second-guessing yourself a little. You could turn away, go home — in all likelihood, Amren won’t want to see you.
But tonight feels different. Tonight feels like a reckoning.
So you swallow your nerves and decide you’re doing this.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You knock once, and a voice that is both nightmare and fantasy calls out, “Go away!”
Not unusual for Amren. She tells guests to go away, even when she’s invited them.
So you brace a hand against the door and call back, “It’s me.”
There’s a beat. And then small footsteps are padding closer. There are the sounds of bolts being undone, locks clicking. Whatever it is Amren feels she needs keep out is little more than a distant thought as she yanks the door open just a tad and eyes you suspiciously through the gap. Her steely gaze takes in your dress, hair, makeup. She lifts her chin.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
You shrug. Feel a little pathetic as you answer, “I thought I’d come see what you’re up to.”  
“Why.”
“Perhaps I find your company to be just slightly more scintillating than Cassian’s.”
At that, there’s the briefest twitch of her lips. She masks it expertly. “A dead rat has more to offer in the way of company than that boy.”
You snort, rubbing at your arms. Goosebumps are pebbling your skin. The air is too brisk to comfortably be stood in for too long.
Amren studies you again, and too quickly for you to register, she’s widening the gap in the door and yanking you in by the front of your dress. She slams the door shut and gets to work refastening the bolts, sliding across the chains, securing every lock. It’s all you can do to stand and watch.
And then she turns to face you with a neutral expression — one that says that if you find anything peculiar about her behaviour, shut the fuck up. You know she won’t tell you what’s got her so on edge, so you don’t bother asking.
Instead, you turn, still rubbing at your chilled skin, and study the general disarray of her huge, open-plan studio apartment. Her bed is unmade, her trinkets and baubles scattered across various surfaces. And on the numerous overlapping rugs that cover the floor, a gathering of books, some stacked in a pile, others tossed aside, a few open on certain pages. It would seem she is spending the night going over your recent research.
“Perhaps a drink?” you ply, angling away from the mess.
She quirks a dark eyebrow. “Tell me, what is it about you and the others barging into my home and making demands of me?”
“I believe it’s customary to offer your guests refreshments.”
“I believe I didn’t ask for guests in the first place.”
Her words, to anyone outside your circle, would sound so sharp, so harsh. But you know Amren, now. That last sentence vaguely translates another meaning: I wasn’t expecting guests, but thank you for coming. Of course I’ll get you a drink.
Not that she’d ever say that in a million fucking years.
She saunters past you, towards the kitchen area. As she goes, she closes the open books and throws them onto the stacks. Picks up empty glasses.
“Don’t clean up on my account,” you say, knowing full well that she isn’t.
“I’m not,” she confirms. “I don’t want your clumsy feet treading on anything,” she places the empty glasses in the sink and turns to you. “What do you want to drink? There’s wine, wine, or wine.”
“I’ll have the wine, then.”
With the barest incline of her head, she turns her back to you. While she’s occupied, you take a moment to study the covered windows, everything that blocks out what’s occurring outside. Even the skylights are covered, and your lips twitch at the thought of her wrestling her way up there to fasten drapes over them.
It’s all so methodical, so thought out. And though you know she’d probably never tell you, you can’t help wanting to break down that barrier and know the more vulnerable side to her that is so unsettled by this holiday.
A glass is placed in your hand, and you clear your throat, ripping your gaze away from the skylight — but not fast enough for Amren not to notice.
“It unsettles me,” she says drily, surprising you.
You try your hardest not to blink at the offered snippet of information. “What does?”
“Starfall. What it is. What it signifies.” Taking a slow sip of her wine, she sits on the rug. You follow suit. “Those stars, beings, whatever you want to call them…they are on a journey. Going from one place to another. Perhaps from one world to another. That was once me.”
“…and that unsettles you…”
“Perhaps I know one of them, from many, many years ago. Perhaps they are an associate of a time and a world long-forgotten. A past friend or foe or—”
“A lover?” you supply. You’re not sure you mean to say it.
But Amren’s grey eyes slide to you, and one side of her mouth lifts into a wicked grin, bearing sharp white teeth. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yes. No. I suppose I know nothing of your personal relationships. Of what you like.”
“I like what I like, and I hate what I don’t like.”
You stare at her, thoroughly annoyed and thoroughly entertained. Speaking with Amren is so often trickery and riddles. No matter how much you may feel like you’re getting somewhere, she always leads you on a merry dance that circles you back to the first step.
“And what of you?” she asks, surprising you.
Your eyes snag on the way her razor-sharp black hair moves as she angles her head. The ends tickle the column of her long, creamy neck, adorned with a jewelled necklace. For one moment, for some reason, the sight makes your head empty.
But you shake yourself out of the bizarre reaction and ask, “What of me?”
“What do you like?” Amren asks.
You almost snort as you take a long sip of your wine. Amren is simply not somebody who asks questions about other people very often. And the topic of your love life seems like one that would be trivial and pointless to her.
“Are you asking because you want to know?” you smile. “Or to be polite?”
Another flash of those brilliant teeth. “Have you ever known me to be polite?”
“I suppose not, no.”
“So tell me, girl, what takes your fancy?”
Draining your glass, you set it aside and lounge back, bracing yourself on your hands. And perhaps the wine is already commanding your mind and blurring lines — because it tells you to glance down at the full lips in front of you, painted with red that’s deepened by the dark nectar she sips at.
You do.
Amren watches. The air seems to shift.
“Pour me another glass,” your voice comes out huskier than you intend, “and I’ll tell you.”
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“Lions?”
Rare, for Amren to sound like anything besides being perpetually bored. An hour or so later — and too many glasses later — the two of you are sprawled back on the rug, staring at the ceiling.
“Helion keeps lions?” she turns her head to quirk an eyebrow at you.
“Yes,” you answer with a laugh in your voice. “Very real, very fucking huge lions.”
“I rather thought that Pegasuses were his thing.”
“They are. But his lions are a prided jewel of his — and a court secret that I absolutely should not be sharing with you.”
Her petite, lithe body rolls onto its side. She crooks her arm at the elbow and rests her chin there, staring at you through glazed, grey eyes.
It takes only a beat of eye contact for you both to break into laughter.
This is…unusual. And nice. Though the two of you have undoubtedly been growing closer, Amren always has a glass wall up that allows you to peer through but not penetrate. Tonight is the first night that you feel that…that you might be on the other side of that wall. That she might be letting her guard down for you.
You like it. A lot.
The laughter thinning out, she stares at you. It’s a little strange to see those sharp, angled features not appear harsh and ready to slice at anyone. She appears…open. Almost normal.
“Lions,” she repeats, in something like wonderment. “And they just roam about his private estate? Are they tame?”
“He has sprawls of private land on which they can roam freely,” you tell her. “That land is guarded very well, from anyone he doesn’t wish to share the sight with. The lions are very tame. There’s a rumour — though I never got Helion to confirm it — that they once walked on two legs and spoke our language. That thousands of years ago, a curse bound them to their feline form that even Helion’s vast libraries hold no answer to cracking. And since they weren’t able to break the curse, he and his predecessors set to ensure that they would, at least, always be safe and accommodated and able to live comfortably as they are. If it’s true, they seem perfectly happy in their lion bodies.”
“So Helion allowed you access to them? What are they like?”
You smile — at the images that the question conjures up, and the fact that you hold Amren’s interest enough for her to ask it at all. It makes you feel…proud, somehow. Like the cat that got the cream.
“Amazing,” you rest your arms behind your head, taking yourself back to that private land on which you spent so much time — just you and the lions. “They’re just…regal. The males have huge, brilliant manes. The females are so lithe and elegant. The cubs are painfully adorable. There are families of them. Sometimes, they fight. Often, they play. They love to snooze in the sun and frolic in the long grass. The youngsters love splashing each other in the lake. If they recognise you as someone they can trust, you can comfortably sit with them and stroke their fur. They especially like you if you bring them food.”
There’s such a long pause as Amren takes in your words that after a short while, your eyes slide to her, half expecting to find her asleep. But she simply stares at you. Quiet. Assessing.
“I think I would like to see lions,” she says after a moment. To her, it seems to be a huge confession. Something not easy to admit.
You study the perfect lines of her face. That face that appears in your thoughts when you’re trying to sleep, think about absolutely anything but her. You’re not sure you like how drawn you are to her. She’s so unreachable that it only makes you reach harder. So difficult to work out that sometimes, you question if she delights in your company at all.
It is, after all, you who always seeks her out. Since you began your research together, it’s been you who has found excuses to see her.
You who barged your way into her home tonight, while stars collided above you.
And you who might do something unwise if you stay any longer.
You clear your throat, breaking eye contact. Your head feels as though it’s filled with cotton as you sit up and announce, “Perhaps I should go.”
Amren pauses. “Why?”
“I didn’t mean to take up your entire evening.”
“You could stay,” she also sits up, tucking her legs beneath her. “You never did tell me what it is you like.”
You take a moment to just…breathe. You’re not used to Amren being so…warm. It’s dangerous. Exciting. You don’t know if it’s safe.
Slowly, you turn on the floor to face her. “I’m not sure you’d appreciate the answer.”
A dark eyebrow arches. She likes doing that. “Tell it to me anyway.”
Should you? Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you’ll tell her that thoughts of her keep you awake, not in the forms of nightmares but in the allure of fantasies. Maybe then she’ll cease all work she does with you, and distance herself from you, and you can rid yourself of these feelings—
“You are what I like,” you speak quickly, flushing hot. “Who I like. I was thankful when Rhysand tasked us to work together, because I was already drawn to you. It seems I can’t stay away—”
A flash of dark hair, the potent scent of perfume and wine, are the only warnings you get before Amren is in your face, her perfect mouth sliding over yours. Wine is the overpowering taste of the kiss, but there are hints of other things behind it — sweet vanilla and something floral.
It takes you by surprise, no doubt. But you push the shock away and sink into the rightness of it. Your shoulders slump, body loosening. You slide a hand up to tentatively cup Amren’s cheek, and you kiss her back.
What starts out slow and explorative quickly builds into something that steals the very air from your lungs. Your bodies seem to move in perfect synchronisation, finding the right positions from which the kiss can deepen and grow. Amren kneels between your legs, and a sharp tooth gives the slightest, twinging bite to your lower lip — one that makes you gasp.
The act is deliberate. She slides her tongue into your mouth, folding it around yours. Your tastes mingle until you’re not sure which is yours and which is hers, and that simply will not do. You want her on your tongue. The flavour of her skin and that scent of hers that is quickly growing stronger, thicker, shifting into something else that you would commit sins to taste.
Your fingers sink into Amren’s hair, and she makes a low noise that could be a warning or a plea. The strands, despite always looking sharp enough to slice through rock, are silken, soft. You fist them in your palm and tilt her head back to kiss her deeper.
But she pulls away, her heavy breaths landing on your lips. Her eyes meet yours, and it’s the first time you see her looking anything besides…steeled. Composed.
She looks flustered. Like pulling away from your mouth was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I don’t know what this means,” she blurts.
The admission makes you pause. You agree, “Neither do I.”
“No—not just this. What you do to me. I don’t know what any of this means,” she narrows her eyes at you, almost accusatory. “Emotions like these have always felt pointless to me, but you…”
“…but me?”
“You…” the word is leaden on her tongue. “You are different.”
Her gaze slides to your mouth again, and you can tell that her comfort is in articulating her feelings with actions, not words.
And that is just fine by you.
Like she reads the encouragement straight from your thoughts, a breathy word escapes her. “Yes.”
And then she’s fastening her lips on yours again and stamping out every shred of confusion. No matter what either of you are unable to say, the dance of your mouths can speak it all. For now, no more than that is necessary.
Amren kisses you, and you kiss her. It’s deep, desperate, yearning. It’s bigger than anything and everything. The stars that race through the sky pale in comparison.
This is the real beauty of this night. The real thing you had hoped for. It could end no better way.
You kiss until your mouths are bruised and tender. Until the taste of wine is gone, and there’s nothing but the two of you on your tongues. For all you know, the rest of the world outside this apartment could have disappeared. You’re not sure you care.
You’re the one to pull away this time, but you don’t move far. You part your lips to gulp down breaths and press your forehead to Amren’s. Your voice is a rasp as you joke, “You better not be kissing me just so I’ll show you the lions.”
She laughs — actually laughs. It’s a short, brusque chortle, but it makes you glow with pride.
But she quickly sobers. Her face is serious once more, her eyes drinking you in.
“I’m kissing you, girl,” she says, “because I think about you too much. Because the very first time I laid eyes on you, it scared me — what I might do to look at you forever.”
You try to mask your surprise. You hadn’t realised—
“It was me who suggested to Rhysand that you and I should work together,” she admits. She pulls back a little, as if urging you to read the honesty on her face. “It felt pathetic and foolish, but I did it to be close to you. I can’t stop myself wanting to be close to you.”
Exactly the same feelings you had tortured yourself with all this time. To think that Amren had agonised over it just as you had is comforting, somehow.
You reach out a hand, pinching a strand of her soft hair between your fingers. She watches the action closely.
“Don’t stop yourself wanting it,” you say, not at all sure that it isn’t a plea. “Don’t stop yourself, when I want it, too.”
“…I’m not used to being…unsure of things.”
“Embrace it,” you offer a smile. “Have fun with it.” With me.
She stares at you, brooding and calculating. You wait for her to decide that this is too out of the realms of familiarity. She won’t allow herself to be so vulnerable.
But then she moves her hand to yours — the one still touching her hair. Slowly, tentatively, she laces your fingers together. She stares down at your joined hands as though the sight is alien, fascinating.
“Stay,” she eventually says, glancing up at you. There’s an undertone in her voice, an inference.
“…the entire night?” you hedge. You try to keep the hopefulness out of your tone.
Her red lips lift into a smirk, grey eyes glimmering. “On one condition.”
“Name your price.”
Your heart picks up as she leans in again. Her hair tickles your cheek, and she watches closely as your skin flushes at the proximity. Her lips hover against yours.
But instead of kissing you, she whispers four words that land straight on your waiting mouth.
“Show me the lions.”
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