Tumgik
#azriel x mc
Kinktober Masterlist 🍂
Tumblr media
🖤🎃 MDNI - 18+ - NSFW - SMUT AHEAD 🎃🖤
I haven’t posted any yet, these are just what I have planned for next month! Save this page, as I will update it with links when the posts are made! 🖤
day 1: face sitting w/ Azriel
day 2: against a wall w/ Hyun Ryu
day 3: hate/angry sex w/ Eris Vanserra
day 4: praise kink w/ Jumin Han
day 5: begging w/ Cassian
day 6: edging/denial w/ Azriel
day 7: thigh riding w/ Rhysand
day 8: breeding w/ Tamlin
day 9: swallowing w/ William T. Spears
day 10: teasing w/ Jihyun Kim
day 11: vanilla w/ Saeran
day 12: eating you out w/ Ronald Knox
day 13: size difference w/ Wolfram Gelzer
day 14: in the kitchen w/ Saeyoung Choi
day 15: first time w/ Lucien Vanserra
day 16: dirty talk w/ Sebastian Michaelis
day 17: dry humping w/ Yoosung Kim
day 18: sex pollen w/ Bardroy
day 19: face sitting w/ Jumin Han
day 20: against a wall w/ Cassian
day 21: praise kink w/ Tarquin
day 22: eating you out w/ Vanderwood
day 23: first time w/ Azriel
day 24: sex pollen w/ Hyun Ryu
day 25: in the kitchen w/ Bardroy
day 26: hate/angry sex w/ Ronald Knox
day 27: size difference w/ Azriel
day 28: vanilla w/ Tarquin
day 29: netflix and chill w/ Yoosung Kim
day 30: car sex w/ Saeyoung Choi
day 31: vacation sex w/ Saeran Choi
106 notes · View notes
Come back Nesta, please
This is perhaps the silliest thing I’ve ever written. Honestly it’s ridiculous. But considering Nike has her own Cassian at home I’m sure she can relate to these antics. Maybe :)
Happy birthday @nikethestatue! It’s been so lovely getting to know you this year and honestly I cannot imagine a day going past without chatting with you. Not only are you strong and intelligent, but you are so generous and truly care about your friends. So, here’s a little drabble of ridiculousness just for you. Don’t ever leave your Cassian 🤭 lots of love to you today, and always 💕
Bat boys + background Nessian. 1.3k words. Fluff/idiocy.
Tumblr media
The final bars of a moody Mariah Carey song blasted through the tiny apartment Azriel shared with his brothers. It was tough being a fresh university graduate and they all told themselves the living situation was temporary, but really, it was second nature.  Azriel, Cassian and Rhys had all been living together since Rhys’ mother had fostered the other two boys when they were eleven and even shared a dorm during their college years.
It felt like home for Azriel, and he really didn’t mind it. That is, until last night. When Cassian had decided to incessantly play that fucking song on repeat. That whiny, depressing, shrill song. We Belong Together. Over and over and over.
Sure, Mariah could croon with the best of them, but his last nerve was fraying. Her voice was blasting though the speakers and echoing down the hall from Cassian’s room where he’d been holed up for about fourteen hours now and Azriel had developed a tick in his jaw.
Rhys, even more infuriatingly, seemed unperturbed.
Azriel tried to concentrate on the words he was typing on the resume he was updating to send to prospective jobs he intended to apply to. His jaw clenched as he deleted the last line he’d messed up, backspacing aggressively.
As the final notes of the tune faded off, he breathed a sigh of relief… before he heard that insufferable song start up. Again.
Slamming his laptop closed, Azriel only saw red as he muttered darkly, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Rhys’ head snapped up from his phone at the violent declaration, lazily sprawled in a brown leather armchair, one leg hitched up on the armrest. He sat up at attention when he spied the livid look on Azriel’s face.
“Wait. Az. Stop—”
Abruptly standing from the couch, Azriel shoved his laptop aside as he trudged down the hall, his footfalls stomping loudly, ensuring Cassian would be well aware of the onslaught that was heading his way.
Azriel didn’t even turn around as he growled back, “It’s been long enough! And if I have to hear that gods damned song one more fucking time—”
“He’s just upset, leave him be. You know what Cass is like,” Rhys reasoned, trailing after Az as he barrelled down the hall.
Azriel had reached Cassian’s room and, not bothering to knock, he burst through the door with such force Rhys was surprised it hadn’t been ripped clean off the hinges.
…I should have held on tight, I never should have let you go I didn’t know nothing I was stupid I was foolish, I was lying to myself…
The song pounded through the small space, like a wave engulfing them as Azriel opened the door. The melody ricocheted off the walls of the tiny bedroom, the curtains drawn tightly closed, Cassian seemingly intent on giving the room a cave like quality in his melancholy.
Peering around Azriel’s shoulder, Rhys spied the most pathetic sight he’d possibly ever seen: lying feebly in his bed like an 18th century maiden who had taken ill and required to either be shipped off to a distant aunts’ home by the sea or await her demise on her deathbed, was Cassian.
If Azriel hadn’t been so irritated, he would have laughed, then perhaps felt a little bad for the guy. But as it were, he was just annoyed.
“Cass!” Azriel shouted over the loud music. “Turn that shit down, or turn that shit off, but either way I do NOT want to hear it again!”
Cassian turned his hazel eyes onto his brothers, now both standing in the doorway; Azriel’s face twisted in a look of disgruntled rage, while Rhys’ mouth seemed to be wobbling, either trying not to burst out laughing or truly feeling sorry for his friend.
From his bed, he curled into a foetal position on top of his duvet, clutching his pillow with the most wretched, forlorn looking expression on his face. After a beat of silence between the brothers, Cassian just dramatically started singing along to the words, intent to ignore Azriel’s requests to turn it off.
“When you left I lost a part of me, it’s still so hard to believe, come back baby please, ‘cause we belong together.”
Azriel just exhaled through flared nostrils. “For fucks sake, Cass—”
“Who else am I gonna lean on when times get tough…”
Rhys, this time interjected. “She didn’t even—”
Cassian only got louder, singing over his brothers’ fruitless reasoning. “WHO’S GOING TO TALK TO ME ON THE PHONE ‘TIL THE SUN COMES UP?”
“Cass. She’s only—”
“WHO’S GON’ TAKE YOUR PLACE THERE AIN’T NOBODY BETTER OH BABY, BABY, WE BELONG TOGETHERRR!”
Azriel and Rhys could only stand there dumbfounded, each with various shades of disbelief and incredulity splashed across their faces.
Rhys leaned towards Azriel, his eyes flaring in alarm and flicking towards Cassian before landing back on Az. “You’d think after draining the life out of that song repeatedly for the last 14 hours he’d know the words,” Rhys muttered from the corner of his mouth, a smirk fighting its way across his lips.
Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, trying to fight the urge to straddle Cassian where he lay and suffocate him with his own pillow. Instead, he just stomped to Cassian’s desk and turned down the volume, Mariah reduced to background noise as his brain finally cleared of its rage induced fog.
“Cassian, get a fucking grip, man!”
“You don’t understand!” Cassian started heatedly, sitting up on his bed, his hair ruffled and matted behind him.
“It’s really not that bad, Cass,” Rhys placated, leaning against the door jamb, his arms crossed against his chest.
Cassian scoffed. “Easy for you to say. Feyre didn’t just up and leave you!”
“Oh my god,” Rhys sighed. “Nesta did not just up and leave you!”
“She did! She’s gone, she’s not here!”
“She is on student exchange for two weeks. TWO GOD DAMN WEEKS! You’re acting like she ran off with her yoga instructor,” Azriel exasperated, arms flailing around him as he tried to make his brother see reason and stop the insanity.
Cassian narrowed his eyes, before hurling his pillow at Azriel’s face.
“At least I express how I feel. Pined after Elain much, lately?”
Azriel caught the pillow and promptly launched it back at him.
“I don’t pine! And she has a boyfriend.”
“She dumped him months ago!”
Rhys interjected, sensing one of their infamous brawls brewing, and he didn’t feel like replacing a lamp or cleaning up pieces of broken desk tonight. “Cass, why don’t you just call Nesta? She wouldn’t be starting classes straight away.”
Cassian averted his gaze, a look of sheepishness fleeting across his rough-hewn face. “I tried. I don’t think she’s landed in Japan yet.”
Azriel snorted and Cassian cast narrowed hazel eyes in his direction, as if daring him to say something. Rhys swallowed his lips, smothering his own desire to make fun of his friend as he grabbed Azriel by the shoulder and led him out.
“Well, come out when you get hungry. We ordered pizza…”
Cassian just grunted in response as Rhys closed the door behind them.
They hadn’t reached halfway back down the hall when the music started blaring through the corridor again, Mariah serenading them all once more, to Azriel’s dismay.
“Nesta better not extend her exchange program. I’ll be throwing a sack over his head and abandoning him in a forest otherwise,” Azriel muttered.
Rhys just chuckled, clapping his brother on the shoulder before responding, “It would be no use anyway, he’d eventually find his way back home. He’s incredibly needy.”
*******
tagging: @offtorivendell @fawnandshadows @swankii-art-teacher @pagemasters @the-laughing-bubble @sakurakittypeach @tswaney17 @wingedblooms @thefangirlofhp @alwayssara @ultadverb
79 notes · View notes
milswrites · 2 months
Text
Irreplaceable
~Azriel X Reader
Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, Y/N finds herself captured by the enemy. Will Azriel get to her in time to save her or must Y/N find another way out of this situation.
Warnings: Angst. Graphic descriptions of wounds. Mentions of torture. Violence. Minor character death. Badass MC with a happy ending though :).
Notes: Most definitely should have been two parts I’m sorry for the length <3
Your eyes flickered open slowly, lids struggling to lift fully as your head agonisingly throbbed in pain. Even through your blurred vision you could tell the surroundings were unfamiliar and there wasn’t much information to gain from them other than the fact you were locked in a cell and it was dark. Very dark. The only source of light being the dim flicker of candlelight that squeezed its way through the edges of the door before you, the shadow in your cell dancing in the soft glow that broke through.
Aching, you tried to move, twitching your fingers only to be met with an unsettling numbness that travelled up your arm. Forcing your eyes to open fully, sight becoming less foggy, you glanced to your side. Your eyes drifted from your shoulder and followed the length of your dirty, blood-stained arm to your hand. Your hand, which you had only now noticed was softly trembling, was a picture of horror. A large, rusted nail had found its home in the centre of your palm. Clearly the wound had been there a while as the blood down your arm and on the floor was cracked and dry, congealed around the base of the nail where it met the skin of your hand. Alarmed, your eyes snapped to the other side, head throbbing at the fast movement. Your other hand bore the same wound. Choking back a sob, you stilled your breathing, the anxiety-born shaking your body was doing was only causing you more pain in your hands. You were pinned to the wall like a piece of art. Like you were a trophy.
A sudden wave of panic flooded your system as you recalled how you ended up here in the first place, Azriel was with you on the mission where you had been knocked out and captured. Your wide, alarmed eyes scanned the room, there was no sign of him in here. No traces or makings on the floor that showed any sign of a struggle other than that of your own. Was he safe? Or was he trapped somewhere in this building in another cell? You wondered if he had managed to slip way and if he was looking for you, if he would come save you from entrapment and carry you back to Velaris where you would be safe. Cursing yourself, you shook the thoughts from your mind, you were disposable to him. A young, newly trained spy for the night court. Azriel wouldn’t risk his safety and the safety of his court to ensure your well-being.
You prayed to the mother that Azriel wasn’t in the same situation as you. Locked up in a separate cell. From the moment you met him, when he had saved you from the beating your father was gifting you in Hewn City, you knew you couldn’t just be friends with Azriel. Over the past year of training under him you would be a fool to deny that you had fallen under his spell, those feelings that sparked in you when you first laid eyes on him the day you met only grew and grew until they were a wildfire. The countless hours spent by his side working, training and travelling for your court did nothing but amplify your school-girl crush on the spymaster. But it would be ridiculous for you to assume you ever meant anything more to him than just another person to train. He had never shown much interest in you other than when it came to training and work. In fact most days he struggled to meet your eyes, mumbling the days tasks to you as he busied his gaze elsewhere. There was no way Azriel reciprocated your feelings. But it didn’t matter now. Now you were trapped and this cruel form of punishment bestowed upon you was surely a sign you would not be making it out of here alive.
~~~
Eyes stinging with tears, you brushed all thoughts of your unrequited love aside. Now was not the time to get distracted, all your energy had to be directed into finding a way out of this situation. If Azriel was here you had to make sure you wouldn’t do anything stupid that could end up unintentionally harming him in the process. But if he was here, and wasn’t too heavily injured, you’d both at least have a chance of fighting your way out of this.
If he wasn’t…you would have to attempt this alone and in your injured state. You could wait and see what they wanted from you, see if they kept you alive but the chances of them letting you go were slim to none. You could wait, hope Azriel got back to Velaris and told Rhysand of your capture, hope that they deemed your disposable life worth saving. You didn’t see the likelihood of either option.
No. You would have to try and find a way to discover if Azriel is here and if not it was up to you to ensure your safety. To try and work your way out of this cell in a place you don’t know, guarded by an unknown number of people. The odds were not in your favour.
By this point the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks, despite attempting to hold the sounds in, small sniffles and sorrowful whimpers forced their way out of your mouth. A small part of you wondered if it would be easier to just stay here, anything they were going to do to you already was surely better than what they would unleash upon you if you tried to escape. Head pounding, you awkwardly rested it on your shoulder, the weight of it causing you arm to shift downwards a small amount, your hand seizing with pain as the nail rubbed against the open wound once more.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain. Maybe it would be easy to just shut your eyes and pray for a swift death. Hope that if you close them and sleep you won’t have to open them again. As if replying to your thoughts, you felt a small tug in your chest, an unusual sensation that you wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact the lack of sound and light in your cell had made your senses very sensitive to even the smallest change. Hope bloomed in your chest, filling your body and soothing your thoughts of giving up. You would try. If it was fate that you were going to die here then at least you would go out fighting. At least you would die trying to stay alive, trying to get back to Azriel.
You weren’t sure how long you sat there since waking, coming up with scenario after scenario, plan after plan. The new sense of determination that coursed through you, prevented you from getting the rest your body so desperately craved. The pain in your hands had reduced, the unbearable stinging was replaced with a dull numbness, you weren’t sure whether that was because the wounds were actually getting better or because you had grown used to the pain. Certain that you’d have to remove the nails soon for fear of infection, you kept them in. You would play the role of their prisoner as long as you were unsure that Azriel was locked up here as well. Only when you found out he was safe would you risk removing the nails and escaping.
The screeching sound of a metal door opening in the distance broke the silence. It was the first sound you had heard that hadn’t been made by you. Your head raised quickly, ears twitching with anticipation as you tried to listen and gather what information you could. There was no speaking, but definitely the sound of multiple footsteps, gradually getting louder as they moved closer. Two? No, three pairs of feet. You were grateful for Azriel’s intense training that allowed you to come to this conclusion. Taking down one person in this situation would have been easy, even with the nails, but three? No you would bide your time. Their footsteps got louder and louder until they stopped. They had come to a halt outside your cell.
Unsure of how to handle this, you dropped your head to your shoulder again at the sound of rattling keys, softly grunting at the pain that flashed through your skull, your eyes snapped shut, pretending to still be unconscious.
The door slowly creaked open, only one pair of footsteps came into the cell, the other two people staying outside.
“I told you that you hit the bitch too hard”
It was difficult not to flinch at the gruffness of the man’s voice, but you managed to stay still, keep your breaths deep and eyes closed. He huffed, unsatisfied at your believed unconscious state, clearly having come to your cell hoping you’d be awake for him to torture some night court secrets from you. Hoping to stir you, you heard the scrape of his boot against the stone floor before you felt it collide against your ribs. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of you waking for him only so he can undoubtedly prod and poke at you until he felt he had enough information, you lolled your head forward, hands tugging downwards against the nails. You bit back your cry of pain, hoping this action was enough for him to leave you be.
He nudged your leg with his foot a few times, body shaking but you continued to play your part. Until finally he released a disappointed sound and you heard his feet dragging towards the door.
“What did I say? The spymaster would have been the better choice than his pet, shame you let him get away.” And with that he exited your cell, you heard the sound of the lock clicking shut and the low mumble of the man say to his companion, “stay here, send for me when she wakes. Then we can try have some fun.” Muffled steps walked back towards where they originally came from. Two pairs. Only one man had stayed behind to watch the cell.
Now the cell was once again empty and you were in the safety of your own company you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, eyes flicking to the door in realisation you’d have to be quiet now there was a guard outside. Azriel was safe, he hadn’t been captured. Resisting the urge to cry once more you now hardened your emotions. You had to find your opportunity, try and find a way out of this hell before the man came back and realised you were awake. You needed to get out of this cell and get far away from here, you had never learnt to winnow so you’ll have to run, perhaps if you’re lucky you’ll have some idea where you are and where you can go to.
But first you had to sort out the predicament you were in. The nails had to come out. By this point your panic was almost unbearable, this was going to hurt. Your deep shaky breaths doing nothing to quell the rising anxiety in your body. That odd tug you felt earlier in your chest once more showed itself but in your terrified state it just felt like your heart was trying to rip itself out of your body.
~~~
It must have taken an hour or more for you to calm yourself, steady your breathing and prepare yourself for the worse. Ideally you knew you should sleep, gain some energy back that you no doubt were going to need to aid in what you were about to do. However, rest wasn’t an option. You’d already wasted enough time in your panic, sure that if you waited any longer your captor would return.
In fear of being too loud and alerting the man stood outside you moved your head down and bit into the thick collar of the Illyrian leathers you wear for your missions. And you pulled. Starting with your left hand, you pulled it forward, teeth clenching onto the leathers hard. An uncomfortable mixture of sweat and tears streamed down your face as your wound that had healed around the nail broke open, hand flying forward and off of the nail lodged in the wall. One hand was free, now for the other.
Wanting to get it over with you gripped the nail in your right hand with your really released left one, blood streaming down your arm. Once more you pulled only this time you tugged at the nail itself. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, you managed to get it out of the wall and out of your hand. A bitter chuckle slipping from your lips, these idiots locked you in a cell with nails for weapons, even with the knowledge that you were trained by the spymaster himself.
With the wounds in your palms soaked in blood, you used a nail to tear at the bottom of your leathers. Ripping two strips of material from your top, you wrapped them around your hands, pulling the ends tight with your teeth to make sure they were secure. You weren’t sure how hard you would have to fight to make your way out of this.
Once your hands were wrapped you took the nail back into your hands, flipping it from either hand to test its weight and flexing your fingers to make sure that when you needed to use them the ache in your hands wouldn’t be a hindrance.
It was time. There was one man outside and all you needed to do was to get him to open the cell and kill him. Weighing out your options until you settled on the easiest, hoping he would fall for it and so you yelled out.
“Excuse me!…. Can-… can you please help me? I need a drink.”
You made sure to sound as weak and pathetic as you could, which honestly wasn’t hard considering the situation you were in. Listening, you heard him stand to attention, having not expected your voice. You take in his hesitant steps in the direction the rest of his friends went in, clearly wanting to go get them. Desperation spiking in you that this was your only chance, you tried again.
“Please! Just some water, it’s not like I can try anything anyways.”
A string of expletives followed. Then the sound of sloshing water. Standing where the door would open you braced yourself, nail in hand and stance wide. A click of the key turning. A grunt as the heavy metal door is forced open. Light glaring through the gap. And nothing. Your nail finding its home in his throat before he could live to make another sound, body slumping onto the floor of your cell, a pool of blood forming around him.
Checking him for weapons you grabbed his sword, it was too heavy but it was better than the nail so it would have to do, hopefully you wouldn’t need to use it. The last thing you grabbed were his keys to the cell from the door, tucking them into your pocket, unsure whether they will be needed in your escape.
Stepping out into the corridor you glanced around. There was only one way out and that was the way the men from earlier had left from. You steeled yourself and pushed forwards, walking down the cell corridor and opening the door. Met with yet another corridor on the other side, you picked a direction and walked that way, thanking the mother there was no one around and praying to the cauldron that no one would come.
The architecture was unfamiliar, you were definitely in unknown territory. The halls winded on and on, the more you walked the more stressed you became, sure that if you were to go through any more of them you were going to get caught. As if the mother had taken pity on your already situation and heard your silent pleas of despair the next corner you turned had an archway that led outside. Adrenaline coursed through you as you bolted to the arch, eyes squinting in the brightness of the sun.
Now out in the open you wildly scanned your surroundings, choosing the best pathway forward to ensure you had the best chance of escape possible. It was busy outside, stalls full of market goods, with people bustling about them. Afraid of being caught you hid your bloodied arms and sword behind your back but thankfully when you scanned over the crowd you didn’t lay eyes on anyone who looked like a threat.
Hesitating, you were lost on which direction to go in, until out the corner of your eye you caught a merchant’s horse and carriage, a large chest situated on the back. Perfect. Skillfully, you snuck past the crowd of people gathered together, all stretching their necks to look at something you couldn’t see, and you opened the chest. It was empty. At this point you were grinning widely, and you hopped into the chest, hands throbbing as you gripped the edge to haul yourself up into it before pulling the lid to, enclosing yourself in darkness.
You hadn’t been in the chest long when the owners had returned and thankfully they had not opened the chest and found you, bloodied and dirty hiding inside. The carriage pulled away and you have to admit you weren’t the most comfortable, already sore head banging against the wall of the chest with every bump in the road, but it was a whole lot better than being inside of that cell. You didn’t know where this carriage was heading to, but you would catch a lift as long as possible before you had to get out and gather your bearings. Exhaustion overwhelmed you as the adrenaline slowly dripped from your system and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you could stop your eyes drooping as sleep eventually caught up with you.
~~~
You woke up to an overwhelming bright light and a petrified scream. Startling, you sat up in shock and attempted to take in your surroundings, the lid of the chest had been opened and you were staring into the face of a horribly distressed woman who was clearly not expecting to find you inside.
“Shhhh… it’s ok, I’m sorry. I’m leaving” you tried to sooth her as you speedily hopped out of the chest, taking your sword with you. Turning in a circle you took note of the inn before you and the dense forest that surrounded the area.
Unfortunately, the sight of your blood-stained arms and the glint of your sharp edged sword did nothing to calm the merchant lady who was screaming bloody murder. You backed off, arms raised in surrender, eyes travelling to the group of angry men standing outside of an inn, whose attention had been caught by the wailing woman. You cursed, brain trying to come up with excuses you could give to get them off your back so you could be on your way but your stream of thoughts was interrupted by the ringing of bells that had started in the distance, presumably where you had just escaped from. Fuck. The carriage hadn’t taken you as far as you’d have hoped.
“They ringing those for you sweetheart?” One of the men asked, cracking his knuckles together after having seen the panic flash through your eyes over the sound of the bells, “we’d get a pretty penny for bringing you in if that’s the case.”
At this point you weren’t even going to stop and try talk your way out of this. Azriel had always said your tongue would get you killed one day. So you didn’t only thing you could think of. You ran. Bolting towards the forest behind you, you moved as quickly as you could, muscles burning after your limbs had been squeezed together in the chest for a little too long. Shouts broke out behind you and you knew that they had followed. The haunting sound of the bells still carried in the wind, a reminder of the place you had come from. A reminder of where you’ll be stuck at once more if you don’t get yourself out of this. That is if the brutes don’t bring you in dead.
You run and you run, throat squeezing in agony at every breath. But no matter how fast you could run it was no use, you could hear their jeers and taunts getting louder, voices turning gleeful as they realised there was no way you could get away. Adamant you weren’t going to get captured again after putting in all that effort of getting out you didn’t give up, flying through the trees until your feet dragged you to a halt. You were met with the rocky face of a cliff.
Survival instincts still being in control of your body, you grabbed the rocks, trying to pull yourself up the rocky feature in order to scramble to the top to get away from the brutes chasing you, but the flash of agony up that started in your damaged palms and flashed up your arms reminded you that you were injured. Your hands shot open at the burst of pain and you fell off the side of the cliff and onto the floor. Scrambling to your feet, you turned back round to face the forest and gripped your sword as tight as your hands allowed. No more running. You were going to have to fight your way out.
~~~
Snarling at the men as they approached did nothing to deter them, horrible grins plastered on their faces as they rounded in on you. Even if you weren’t as injured and exhausted as you were you were certain you still wouldn’t be able to take them all, not by yourself.
The boldest of the men, the one who had called you out outside of the inn, lunged forward, sword swinging towards you. You jumped backwards, reactions sluggish as the sword caught your arm and your back slammed against the rock face behind, a shout of pain came from your lips. Insistent on the fact you won’t go back to the cell, you clenched your jaw and advanced, raising your sword. You would die here sooner than being a captive of the men who took you again.
Azriel.
The memory of him flashed through your eyes. Tears of frustration falling down your cheeks at the thought of the man you were never able to have. Once more thankful that he hadn’t been captured with you, thankful that you wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face as he realised that even after all his training you were still too weak to fight your way out of this. His name, a final prayer on your lips as you hope that whoever he finds himself stuck with next does better than you had.
Then you fight. The world around a blur of swords, spears and limbs, unsure whether you were actually hitting anyone you swung your sword around you, parrying blows and kicking people back. The holes in your hands cracking open and bleeding once more, blood causing your grip to slip, unable to keep a firm hold on the hilt.
It only took one more move from your attackers and your sword went flying. Instinctively your hands shot to your leathers expecting to find your holsters for your daggers, only to remember they were stripped from you before you woke in your cell. You didn’t even have the nails that were lodged in your hands with you, both left in the cell you escaped from, one in the throat of one of your captors.
The hilt of one of the men’s sword caught you in the back. Weaponless, you fell to your knees in defeat before you closed your eyes. This was it. They would either kill you or take you back and there was nothing more you could do but shut your eyes as to avoid seeing the gleeful smiles of victory on their faces as they enact their final punishments. Your ears rang, their voices all blurred into one mass of yelling. The bells. All you could hear was the bells as you gripped your head, crying out and waiting for the death blow.
But it never came. You were aware of the change in atmosphere around you, maybe even aware of the screams that had began breaking out. But you stayed focussed on holding your head, fingers plunged into your ears as you sat on the floor, rocking backwards and forwards. The haunting sounds of the bells calling for your death lingered. It seemed as if they were getting louder and louder until they stopped altogether at the call of your name.
“Y/N”
Hands grabbed you. Pulling your hands from your head. A crack in their voice that must have been born from the realisation of the state your hands were in.
“Y/N can you hear me?”
It was Azriel. Still unable to open your eyes a you laughed. The mother worked in strange ways but you never could have predicted that death would arrive to you in the form of Azriel. Your final moments met with the soothing tones of his deep voice. And so with limbs like lead, body tired and unmoving you allowed yourself to drift off for the final time, a whisper upon your lips that was met with a cry.
“I’m ready”
~~~
Your pain had returned. The wounds on your palms so unbearable it drew a whine from your lips. Pain so intense it was clear you had somehow survived. You were in a bed, you could feel the soft sheets against your back and the weight of a blanket above you. The information did nothing to quell the fear inside you. Fear that when you opened your eyes you would be back with your captors. Your heart rate increased, the muscle thudding in your chest and you pressed your eyes together so hard it hurt.
“Hey…hey, don’t do that, it’s ok you’re safe”
Azriel’s voice broke through the silence. Your ever increasing heartbeat stilled. You were safe. You jumped upright, eyes snapping open. Azriel not expecting this fell backwards into his chair in shock before realising what was happening and was then rushing forward to steady you as you swayed from the fogginess that had found its home in your head.
“Woah careful now, it’s alright it’s just me. You’re home” his voice shaky as he moved his hands from where they were gripping either side of your shoulders, running them gently down your arms before they settled over your bandaged hands which were laid in front of you.
Brain frog still present, you just couldn’t put together how you got there. Azriel wasn’t with you when you were captured, “how… how did you-“
Already knowing the question being asked he promptly replied, “the second they took you I went straight back to Rhysand for help. It was hard ignoring the… the need to get you back as quickly as possible but I knew I’d be stupid to do it on my own,” he swallowed hard, as if the subject of your capture was a difficult one for him, “I tried to tell you we were coming, find out where you were I tried to tell you through…well I tried to tell you.”
He took in another deep breath, “ and then we found out where you were, only when we got there the bells were ringing and you were gone. We were too late, you’d gotten out on your own because you thought we weren’t coming,” at this point pearlescent tears were flowing down his cheeks, “I didn’t give up and I kept searching for you and when I finally found you and you were knelt before all those men covered in blood…I…I.”
Even though you were the one who had been captured and pinned to the wall, and chased down by a hoard of angry men, watching Azriel break down in front of you because he thought he had failed you had to be one of the worst things you’ve ever experienced.
“Azriel,” you croaked, throat dry from lack of water, “the only reason I’m here now is because of you. The thought of you is what kept me alive in that cell and it was your training which was the reason I was able to escape,” it was at this point that you were sobbing along with the spymaster, “and I know for damn certain that I definitely wouldn’t be here now if you hadn’t found me in those woods. So thank you Azriel, thank you for saving my life.”
You slowly lifted a shaking, bandaged hand to his cheek, thumb brushing away his tears, pain shooting up your arm at the action but you didn’t care. You only cared that this beautiful man before you hadn’t given up on you. That all the while you were captured he had been searching for you. Trying to get a message to you. That all the time in the cell you had spent thinking of him, he was thinking of you too.
His lips softly brushed over your bandage, right where the hole of your palm was stinging underneath. It was an intimate moment, your wrapped hand against his face was possibly the most you’d ever touched him aside from training.
Perhaps out of fear of that you weren’t worthy of Azriel, that he couldn’t possibly like you as much as you’ve grown to love him over the past year, you drew your hand away from his face, ending the moment. Agonisingly tearing your eyes away from his perfect face to settle them on your ruined hands which were now uncomfortably laid on your lap.
“So, uh. Did you find my replacement?” You asked nervously, dreading what he was going to say in response but knowing you’d rather get the pain of it over with sooner rather than later. Especially since the feel of your hand on his cheek had ignited that odd feeling in your chest.
For the second time since awakening, you had Azriel shocked, “r-replace you?”
“I failed right? I got captured and if it wasn’t for you I’d be dead right now. Surely you can see I wasn’t made for this, that I should just go back to my father-“
His eyes now full of fury, Azriel cut you off, “You Y/N L/N are irreplaceable,” he moved his body so he was sat at the edge of the bed, hands holding onto yours, “you are the strongest woman I know and there is no one, no one else, that I could wish to be at my side more than I wish for it to be you.” The rage in his eyes settled, morphing into an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on and he continued, “in the past year of being together you have changed me as a person more than I care to admit and I can not, no I will not, carry on living my life without you by my side. You are irreplaceable… because you are mine.”
That was all you had ever dreamed of hearing and you just couldn’t believe it was true. Azriel felt the same way for you as you did for him, and so in fear of it being a cruel dream made up by your conscious, or afraid he would come to his scenes and change his mind, you crashed your lips to his.
Mouths connecting in firey passion, you poured every ounce of love and affection you had locked away in your heart the past year into it, hoping Azriel would understand just how much he was yours as you were his. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he gripped your face in his hands. You were unsure what to do with your damaged hands, still placed in your lap, but that didn’t matter, nothing about this kiss was awkward or painful. It was as if his lips were made for you, fitting together with yours like it was the missing piece of a puzzle and every part of you wanted to jump right into whatever this was between you and explore every single part of it.
It was only when the two of you needed to breathe that you broke away from the kiss. Still tangled in a sweet embrace, you gazed into his eyes, now certain that unreadable emotion you had seen swimming in them earlier was love. And it was this realisation of his love that caused the tugging sensation, the one that had been occurring in your chest since you found yourself in that cell, to finally pull free. It dull knot that you hadn’t even known was there, morphed into a beautiful golden thread which linked you to Azriel.
Azriel who’s gorgeous smile bloomed at the sight of you realising you were looking into the eyes of your mate, the person created for you. Your equal. And as he began to litter kisses all over your face and neck he mumbled in your ear the sweetest words you have ever heard, “my beautiful, irreplaceable mate.”
334 notes · View notes
arachnestardust · 8 months
Text
A Court of Song and Shadow: Chapter Seventeen
This one's a chonky one folks; good luck.
As always, feedback is SO appreciated, especially for the Az/Mc interaction we had in this chapter; I'm kind of afraid I did too much too fast or that it felt out of character for him to interact with them like that.
PLS FEEDBACK
Chapter Length: 4596 Words.
Pairing: (Eventual) Azriel x Reader; Lucien & Mc/Starlight friendship, Feyre & Mc/Starlight friendship.
Warnings: canon typical stuff.
Tumblr media
Lucien and I walked behind Rhys, keeping constant pace after the High Lord’s steps.
Under my hand, Lucien’s arm was as tense as the rest of his body; the male had been apprehensive from the moment that Rhysand had made himself known to us in the sitting room we had been occupying.
I wondered if people would react to me in the same way Lucien had to Rhys in the future, when I’d developed a reputation as the rest of the Night Court.
Feyre already had: I’d heard the whispers about her, both in Velaris and in Hewn City: Cursebreaker, Cauldron-blessed, Saviour, bitch, whore, fae-killer.
I didn’t want to be looked at with fear, but to be part of Night Court aristocracy- in any form, even if just by association- seemed to mean being othered by most Courts, I’d been told so- I’d seen it too, with how Lucien treated my friends.
Lost in thought, I startled when Lucien placed his large, warm hand atop mine, raising an eyebrow when I looked towards him.
But then again… maybe people wouldn’t look at me like that; I couldn’t see the future to tell and worrying about it now was probably stupid.
I sent him a small smile, letting him know I was alright without alerting Rhys to our interaction, as Lucien probably preferred it that way and I wanted to respect his wishes.
After a few more moments walking through the labyrinthine walls of the Hewn City palace, we finally came upon another sitting room, this one much more… grandiose- to not call it outright pompous- than the one Lucien, Azriel and I had been frequenting during our stay here.
Inside the room was most of the Court’s inner circle-sans Amren- and Tamlin, who sat alone in an intricate, gold inlaid three person sofa, directly opposite to Feyre’s own needlessly ostentatious armchair, an ornate coffee table being the only thing separating the two.
The chairs themselves looked like hell to one’s back and bum; I would never understand Hewn’s inclination for style and extravagance over comfort and their preference would forever boggle my mind, it seemed.
Taking note of the people, I realised that no one was talking, the atmosphere so thick one could cut it with a butter knife, and both Mor and Azriel looked a pin-drop away from jumping and trampling Tamlin, by the look of their poorly-hidden glares.
Feyre took the opposite route, simply choosing to ignore the High Lord of Spring, staring at the wall behind the blonde male as if it would offer her the answers to the Universe if she looked at it hard and long enough.
Cassian was the only one acting like a civilised person- by the vaguest of definitions- by pretending to find the book in his hands absolutely riveting and, therefore, actually having a reason- flimsy as it was- to ignore the Blonde High Lord.
As we entered the room, Lucien turned to me, gently prying my hold from his arm, then proceeded to walk behind Tamlin’s sofa, standing behind his High Lord while Rhys took over his place and tucked my hand in the crook of his arm, walking me towards Feyre and situating both of us beside her recliner.
“As per our agreement,” Rhys started with practised casualness, “we’ll remove Lucien’s cuffs as soon as we are outside of the city’s limits, then you will both be free to go, but before that…” Rhys gestured to Azriel.
The Illyrian male stepped forward, but instead of advancing towards Tamlin to give the High Lord the shadow as had been agreed, he came towards me, offering it to me instead of Tamlin.
I looked curiously to the little pebble-shaped mass of blackness sitting in the middle of the male’s palm. It could have passed for an onyx, or an obsidian.
But why was he offering it to me instead of Tamlin?
Wait…
Was all of the inner circle seriously so petty that none of them were willing to be the ones to hand the blasted little thing off to the High Lord?
Also, had I lost some kind of untold draw to have to be the one to do it?
I lowered my mental shields, repeating myself and looking towards Rhys.
The bastard bat simply examined his nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the room, not even hiding that he was fighting off a smile- which I knew he could do; Rhys could probably convince you that the sky was green with a face straight as stone if he wanted to- if his twitching lips were anything to go by.
Shaking my head with a scoff, I quickly snatched the shadow from Azriel, trying to convey through my movements how disappointed and disbelieving I was with all of them, which seemed to amuse my friends instead of… whatever else.
Even I didn’t really know what reaction I was hoping to get from them with my little display, but amusement- especially from all of them- wasn’t it.
I moved to sit in front of Tamlin atop the little coffee table, breathing in deeply as I offered him the pebble-shaped shadow.
The blonde took the little shadow from my hand, examining it in curiosity.
“Did Azriel explain the plan to you?” I asked in the awkward silence.
“Only that I am to keep it with me at all times.” Tamlin answered, his tone clearly asking if there was more to know.
Seriously?
Children; most of them over 200 years old, and yet, all of them children.
I breathed in deeply.
“Since we can’t keep in constant contact,” I explained, working to keep my voice cordial so my mild irritation with the Inner Circle wouldn’t be noticeable and somehow offend the High Lord of Spring , “we’re sending that shadow with you; if at any point your court needs assistance from ours or you discover some kind of information that you feel could prove vital in this war, you tell the shadow and it will come directly to Azriel. We’ll be keeping forces at the ready to winnow to Spring and to offer assistance; that’s why it needs to be with you at all times.”
Tamlin’s eyes widened in surprise for a brief second before the blonde disguised the look with one of determination.
“And Lucien’s-” Tamlin started before he was cut off.
“In three days, as we’ve arranged.” Rhys told him smoothly, finally looking up from his (impeccable) nails to give Tamlin a dismissive look; although I was curious of this arrangement they’d supposedly discussed, I didn’t question what it was. “Cassian, Azriel; lead our… guests outside. I’m sure we’d all like to rest after such a tiring day.”
Tumblr media
I was glad to be back in Velaris after spending three days in Hewn City: while in the city under the mountain, a large strain had been put on my emotional shields as the negativity of the place beat on them day in and day out, tiring me; I hadn’t even realised how weary I’d become until Mor had winnowed me back into the Townhouse and suddenly it was like a weight I didn’t know was there had been lifted from my shoulders.
I had barely had any time to tiredly collapse onto an armchair before Rhysand and Feyre winnowed in and suddenly I had an armful- and a lapful- of High Lady.
A sound similar to an ‘oof’ escaped me as the surprise weight of Feyre atop me- and her elbow(?) slamming on my abdomen- forced most of the air inside my lungs from my body.
“I missed you.” Feyre told me with a small smile.
I wished I could say the same, but I had no air to speak to her with.
“Feyre darling, perhaps you should stop suffocating our dear Starlight and then they might be able to reciprocate your affections.” Rhys told her, sounding amused.
Feyre flapped a hand towards her mate. “They’re fine.” She told him dismissively,
Mor, my saviour, approached us, gently extracting Feyre from my lap. “They’re really not.” She said, not attempting to mask how entertained she sounded.
I rose after them, taking in a grateful gulp of air and rubbing my sore midsection for a few seconds, then finally enveloping Feyre in a tight hug, hiding my face in her neck and inhaling. “Missed you too, all of you.” I pulled back, smiling at my gathered friends. “S’good to be back home.”
All three of them preened.
Worse than peacocks the whole lot of them, I found myself thinking, as pure affection ran through my veins.
I turned back to my best friend after a few seconds. “I’d like to speak to you though. Just you.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” Feyre nodded while I dragged her towards my bedroom.
Mor watched us in confusion while Rhys offered me an encouraging- and hopeful- nod.
Tumblr media
I closed and locked the bedroom door behind me as soon as both of us were inside.
Feyre watched me curiously as I advanced towards the wardrobe, slipping Penumbra from my wrist and putting the little shadow in the middle of a stack of folded clothes, proceeding to close the door, hopefully muting our conversation that was to follow.
“Sounds like it’s important.” Feyre pointed out, sitting down atop my bed and watching me in mild worry.
I nodded, using my nails to push at my cuticles. “You tell me everything, so I do the same.”
“Right…” She confirmed, probably wondering where I was going with this. “That’s what we do, always.”
I nodded, more to myself than to her.
“Azriel is my mate.” I told her in a loud whisper, the words nearly jumbling together in my rush to get them out.
Feyre sprung from the bed in a way similar to a startled cat, her eyebrows reaching for her hairline. “What?”
“Azriel is my mate.” I repeated, my voice coming out a little breathier, but much slower, this time.
Because now Feyre knew.
And somehow, the fact that she knew, somehow made it more real.
Real-er.
Feyre hugged me, he hand cradling the back of my head. “That’s amazing!” She said, and I could tell just by the sound of her voice that she was beaming.
Feyre pulled back, studying my face. “Why are you telling me like it’s a secret though? We should be celebrating.”
I looked away, avoiding her eye.
“You haven’t told him.” She deflated, looking disappointed and a bit… upset.
I shook my head no.
“Why not?”
I shrugged, still not able to meet her gaze. “Lots of reasons, one of them being this upcoming war… we can’t afford distractions.”
“it wouldn’t be a distraction though; it’d be a reason to celebrate, especially now, with so few reasons. Besides… you know how hurt I was by Rhys hiding that we were mated, you know.”
“I do, I do, Feyre. But I don’t think now is the right time to tell him.” If there ever would be a good time to tell him.
With my eyes, I begged her to understand, to accept my choice.
“I don’t… I don’t know why you won’t tell him; the war should be a reason to tell him instead of hiding it.” Feyre said, her brows furrowed. “I don’t agree with your choice either.” She sighed, looking away as her shoulders slumped. “I won’t try to force you to tell Azriel, though; I’d never do that to you.”
I nodded, sitting down on the spot that Feyre had previously occupied; she sat back down too, taking one of my hands in hers.
“So…” She started, still sounding a bit upset but clearly aiming to change the subject, like she normally did. “Tell me all that’s happened while I was gone.”
I took the peace offering for what it was.
“Didn’t Mor, Rhys and Cass tell you everything? They’re the biggest gossips I know.” I asked, confused but also amused as the image of the four of them sitting with tea and gossiping like old ladies built itself in my mind.
“They did. But it’ll be much sweeter to hear coming from my best friend.” Feyre let out a quiet laugh, falling back onto the bed, her hair splaying out around her and reflecting the sunlight beaming through my window like a halo.
I admired her for a second: my beautiful, strong friend.
I laughed too, also letting myself onto the bed while I launched into a detailed retelling of all things- big and small- that had happened while she had been in Spring- and the things that had happened while I had been in Hewn.
Tumblr media
We spent hours locked in my room, talking of all that had happened in the month we’d spent apart.
“So, you got more than one power from the Cauldron, then?” Feyre asked, questioning small details of my story.
Making light of the situation, I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yeah. At least one good thing came out of our little excursion.”
I realised I’d made a mistake to poke fun at it as soon as Feyre’s eyes darkened, her face turning sad.
I scrabbled to amend my joke, not quite able to think of anything that would lift her spirits as high as they were before.
“But hey, you’re not the only special one of us now, Fey.”
“You’ve always been special.” She told me earnestly, looking confounded that I’d think otherwise.
I leaned my head on her shoulder. “You too, Fey; you too.”
Tumblr media
The next day, I walked to Conn’s house by myself, having warned the others of where I’d be during the day.
I was excited to see the male from Autumn once again and to try and resolve some doubts I had about my shielding- and whatever it was that I was doing wrong.
I had barely knocked on the door before the sound of running little feet came to open it, swinging the door open with such enthusiasm that it slammed into the wall.
An admonishing shout of ‘Aella’ came from inside the house, but the little fae girl didn’t respond, choosing instead to cross her arms over her chest and look at me with the angriest, most disappointed look I had ever received from a child.
“Where have you been?” She asked, her hip cocked to the side, probably imitating the move from some adult she’d seen doing it.
I chuckled, feeling a bit nervous for some reason. “I had official Night Court business I had to attend to. Could you ever forgive me for leaving without saying anything?”
Aella eyed me critically for a couple of seconds before she sighed dramatically. “I guess.”
The little girl stepped to the side, allowing me to enter the house just as Conn appeared from the kitchen.
“Oh, hello!” He spoke, clearly surprised by my appearance.
With a smile, I waved, taking in his form: he was wearing clothes that were a bit nicer than his usual ones, better fitting and crisp, even his glasses looked cleaner.
“Did I…” I started reluctantly. “Come at a bad time?”
Conn looked around, searching for something wrong before looking down at himself and realising what I was referring to; he patted down his clothes in his usual jittery manner. “Oh, no, no, no. I wasn’t expecting you today and I’m having a few guests over tonight.”
I turned to leave.
“You can stay. Honestly, I think they’re all dying to meet you at this point. I’ve talked a little too much about your progress to them.” Conn chuckled nervously.
“If you’re sure…”
“Oh, I’m sure! Actually…” Conn hesitated. “I could use some help in the kitchen.” The male confessed, defeated.
I hid my laugh behind my hand. “Lead the way.”
Tumblr media
Conn’s friends were all very nice, I found out that night, especially after a few bottles of wine.
I laughed as the male, Cassidy- the one with the wild, curly brown hair, finished recounting a story of one of Conn’s first wards he’d put around the house: he’d messed up the runes and locked himself out of the building for a week- a week in which Conn had had to sleep at Cassidy’s house before the trial runes finally ran out of energy to keep the ward going.
“How did you lock yourself out?” I questioned, hiding my face in my hands as tears of laughter threatened to drip from my eyes.
“It was one of my first wards.” Conn defended himself, his glasses crooked and looking much more at ease than normal after a few glasses of wine. “I honestly don’t even know what I did wrong, to this day!”
“What did you even write on the runes?” Blake, the dark-haired, dark-skinned fae sitting next to me asked.
Conn’s brows furrowed in thought. “Something about… keeping unwanted people out, I think.”
“Did you actually write the rune corresponding to the unwanted part, Conn, my dear?” The wrinkled Fae lady named Greer asked, sounding bemused.
Conn’s mouth opened and closed multiple times, looking like a fish on land while his cheeks turned redder by the second. “… I don’t remember. That was over two hundred years ago, Greer, you can’t expect a perfect recollection of events.”
Greer leaned towards me, a devilish look in her eyes as she whispered loudly, “That, my dear, is how mistakes are repeated.”
Blake leaned towards me. “Has he told you about how he and Aimeé met yet, love?”
I shook my head. “No, not yet.”
“Well,” Blake smiled, so very pretty and all teeth. “Get ready for the cutest love story ever.” They promised before starting a recollection of Conn’s first meeting with his late wife, much to Conn’s chagrin at having the story told again.
Tumblr media
It was late into the night when the little shadow dubbed Penumbra slithered into the Shadowsinger’s room, whispering in his ear while the male looked over documents detailing the latest information sent by his spies in Hewn.
With a stretch, the male rose and advanced towards the door, glad for a reason to leave the never-ending lines of text if only for a few minutes, relieved for the report on his most recent headache- the Cauldron made Fae who seemed to have little regard for their own safety or for how that little regard might worry others.
Azriel navigated the dark corridors of the House of Wind with the ease of someone who knew the layout of the building like the back of his own hand, careful so his steps didn’t make any sound on the old floorboards or stairs, making sure not to wake any of the other residents.
Outside, the air was crisp but refreshing- a small comfort after having spent the last several hours reading through documents that offered no new or useful information to the Court.
With a deep breath and a flap of his powerful wings, Azriel took to the sky.
Azriel arrived at the house of the autumnal male, Conn, within ten minutes.
He knocked on the door.
It took a few moments, Azriel’s shadows informing him that all was well inside, save for the fact that the two adult Fae inside were drunk as skunks and that, apparently, Conn had fallen flat on his face when attempting to get up to open the door.
The door finally open to Conn’s red cheeks and nose, his usual glasses nowhere to be seen as giggles rang from the living room.
“’Evening.” Conn greeted, much more relaxed than Azriel had ever seen him.
The owner of the house stepped aside, gesturing Azriel inside with a wave of his hand.
“Good night.” The Shadowsinger responded, stepping towards the living room, where the previous giggles had died down.
Inside the living room, Azriel found Aella- the little girl he knew to be Conn’s daughter- and the person he was actually looking for upon coming here, both sitting on the ground, legs crossed with their knees touching, and holding hands.
“A little late for you to be up, no?” Azriel asked the little girl.
“Az-rail!” came their voice, but the Shadowsinger was focused on the little girl for now, curious about why was still up.
She shrugged. “I woke up because I wanted some water, but Daddy and his friends were acting silly and I wanted to laugh a little. Most of them went home now, though, so we’re practising.”
Azriel’s shadows whispered that Conn had followed him to the living room, leaning on the entrance, watching them.
“Oh?” Azriel questioned.
“Yeah; I can’t make other people feel what I’m feeling, but they,” She gestured to the adult sitting in front of her, who was content to let Azriel and Aella talk. “Can, just like my grand-mama could; or... well, they should be able to, because they did before- that’s how we met, you know? But I’m just bored sitting here and waiting.” A pause. “I think I’m going to bed.”
Aella rose to her feet, dusting her pyjama pants off before moving towards the stairs. “Goodnight!” She called behind her, her father shadowing her steps.
Azriel turned to the remaining person.
“Hi, Azreel, Azraa… Az! Hi, Az!” They greeted.
They were truly drunk, Azriel noted with amusement; his shadows had not done the situation justice.
Still… They had never called Azriel by a nickname before, not like they did with the others; it was nice to hear it in their voice and Azriel’s shadows approved too, if their delight was anything to go by- though they seemed to delight in just being in the same room as the currently drunk Fae, regardless of the situation.
“Hello, Trouble.” Azriel greeted quietly, moving to gently help them to their feet.
“I told you- no, not you… Penny. I told Penny I was going to sleep here tonight. She got you out of bed and now I feel bad….” They lamented, a hand to their forehead.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” Azriel confessed as they walked outside, stopping briefly to close the house’s door.
“No? Promise?”
“I promise.” The Shadowsinger nodded, a bit flattered about their worry over his sleep.
“Okay... Are we flying?”
“Yes, Trouble, I’m flying you back to the Townhouse.”
“Oh, okay.” They acquiesced, looping their arms around his shoulders. “I missed this.”
Azriel had already taken off when the last three words were spoken, but he looked to his passenger in surprise at their confession. “This?” Azriel questioned.
“Hmm-hmm.” They nodded. “Well, not flying, I hate flying cause we can fall. But the take off and the landing, I like those, especially with you or Cass.”
Azriel hummed, encouraging the small Fae to continue their ramble and slowing their flying speed to allow the conversation to develop.
“When we’re talking off… it’s like… the world is trying to keep us down. It’s grounding; it’s nice. Not with Rhys though… You know you can’t even feel the take-off with Rhys? You’re just… suddenly in the sky. It’s boring.”
Azriel chuckled, filing away the information that, according to some people- sources anonymous, of course- flying with his High Lord was boring, to use it against the male for later.
“But I don’t like the flying, no. If we’re flying, we can fall and then get very hurt and I don’t like that; I don’t like getting hurt.”
“None of us would ever let you fall.” Azriel halted them before they could continue, a bit offended but mostly amused.
They groaned. “I know, Rhys said it a thousand times, he said that even if you dropped me, you’re not children and you’d know how to catch me; I know you would, too, but my mind still thinks about it so I don’t like it.”
The healer-in-training leaned their head heavily against the Shadowsinger’s shoulder, probably about to doze off.
“What about the landing?” Azriel questioned, genuinely curious, but also trying to keep them awake so he could get the Faerie to drink some water before setting them to bed.
“Hmm?” They hummed.
“Why do you like the landing?” He reiterated.
“Oh… Not with Rhys, cause like I said, he’s boring and doesn’t fly the same as you and Cass, but when you’re about to land you just… stop flying a few meters from the ground. I don’t know why you do it, but in those moments when we’re falling- and I know we won’t get hurt cause it’s not high enough to hurt- we’re completely weightless; I like that.” They yawned, before adding, as an afterthought, “Must be Hel on your knees and ankles though.”
Azriel laughed. “I promise you my knees and ankles are fine.”
“Good. That’s... good. Don’t wanna have to try to heal them drunk- which I am, by the way, I don’t know if you realised it. But trying to heal you while drunk could be a disaster.”
“You know what? I hadn’t realised you were drunk.” Azriel lied, too entertained. “But yes, drunk magic tends to be… precarious, for lack of a better word.”
They hummed, nodding in agreement.
The pair flew in comfortable silence for a few minutes, but as they were reaching the Townhouse, an idea occurred to the Illyrian.
Azriel turned to the Fae in his arms. “Do you trust me?”
They raised their head from his shoulder, eyes roaming the male’s face before finally settling on his own eyes.
They were silent for some time, long enough that a seed of disappointment started to bloom in Azriel’s chest, before the Made Faerie sighed, heavily leaning their head back. “More than I should for how little we know each other. More than I should, Shadowsinger.”
Azriel smirked, satisfied, before leaning his face closer to theirs. “Then hold on.”
They nodded, tightening their grip around his neck and hiding their confused face against his shoulder once more.
Azriel gave no warning as, with a big flap of his wings, he shot the two of them upwards, fast as an arrow.
The Fae in his arms let out a terrified yelp, holding tighter, but didn’t request that Azriel stop, so the male took it as a good sign.
When the pair of them were flying just over the steps leading to the Townhouse, Azriel completely stopped flapping his wings, their momentum keeping them rising for a second before they stopped completely and then they were falling, falling, falling.
The Cauldron-made Fae screamed into his shoulder, his shadows admonished Azriel for terrifying them when they passed near his ears.
Just as they were a few meters from the ground, almost too close to stop their momentum, Azriel spread his wings to their full length, halting their fall mid-air abruptly, jostling the both of them uncomfortably.
Almost immediately after, the male closed his wings again, falling the last few meters and landing in a crouch, and looking to the Faerie in his arms, unable to stop the large smile splitting his face at the adrenaline that was rushing through both of their veins after the experience of falling.
Azriel rose, settling them down on the ground gently, but they didn’t let go of the male’s neck and he felt as their knees knocked into his, into each other.
Worried now, Azriel stepped away from them, helping them keep standing by their shoulders.
“You, sir,” They started, but they weren’t crying or angry or terrified as Azriel had, for a moment, feared; they were smiling. “Have sobered me right up. You’re also crazy.”
They both laughed, a pair of lunatics standing in the street.
Neither noticed their High Lord and Lady watching them from a their bedroom window.
148 notes · View notes
nikethestatue · 3 months
Text
As an Elriel, I've seen the question 'Why was Gwyn in the book and why was Gwyn in the bonus chapter? If she is not going to be super important" about a million times.
Let's set this one aside for a sec, because it doesn't matter what we say.
But let's ask a different question. A question that no one likes to ask, because it's very inconvenient. Let's ask this: Why was VASSA introduced?
If everyone conveniently paired Azriel and Gwyn, and Lucien and Elain, what about Vassa? Why did SJM go so far as to retcon Lucien's paternity, to make him a spell breaker? Why of ALL the places Lucien could've gone, he went to....the Human Lands? He, who hated humans, is now living with them. He, who has a mate, instead of trying to work things out with her, moved away and now only visits when Rhysand invites him or he has information to pass? Lucien now actively avoids Elain. And he certainly isn't avoiding Vassa.
In fact, there are a lot more hints at Lucien x Vassa and mutual interest (not to mention that they live together) than Gwyn x Azriel.
Vassa's been in the books since ACOWAR. Vassa is directly linked to Koschei, Papa Archeron, Elain, Lucien, the IC, etc. So Vassa apparently doesn't really matter, and no one has spent 3 years agonising over every word she said, every glance she exchanged, every gesture she's made.
If you are going to claim that Gwyn is that important and that she has this immense arc coming, with 'indisputable proof' that she is MC material and that she will absolutely end up with a member of the IC, and will play a role bigger than Nesta, then why don't you think the same of Vassa?
And if Gwyn is ending up with Azriel (why? but okay), and then Vassa is obviously ending up with Lucien, that leaves poor ol' Elain a lonely spinster with no one to love her...
104 notes · View notes
artists-ally · 6 months
Text
{Smoke on the Water} Azriel x OFC {Pt. 1}
Tumblr media
Okay guys I know it has been a hot minute since I did something ACOTAR related, but I really like how this turned out! As always, feel free drop your thoughts in the comments and in my asks!! Also the title is from this song and is basically my MC's themsong (it's so badass). Also also this is gonna be a series so stick around and if you'd like to be tagged lmk!!
Word Count: 6,132
Warnings: language, violence, blood, mentions of r**e, set after ACOSF, potential spoilers??? A lot of plot building for this part
Summary: The Inner Circle meets Prythian's fourth strongest and most powerful Illyrian.
~~~~~~
CASSIAN POV
“Cauldron alive,” I heard shouted over my shoulder. As I looked, I noticed one of the males in the ring with another. The first male, with short hair clipped down to his scalp, was bleeding from his nostrils quite steadily. The other male, with exceptionally long hair and much broader wings, thrust his foot into his abdomen.
Cheers and whoops sang throughout the camp, coins and bronze chips piled high on the corners of the mat. They were placing bets on the fighters. 
“They’ve been at it for over twenty minutes now,” Nesta said. I had just gotten here after a meeting with Rhysand, I merely came to see how her trainee’s were doing with their new instructor. 
Rhysand made it clear to Devlon that the females in Windhaven needed to have more to their unnecessarily brutal lives. In return, Nesta became the unofficial leader of the Valkyries. She took great pride in it; it glowed from within her when he suggested it. 
I was here because she mentioned this specific Valkyrie she wanted to introduce me to.
“Have they now?” I quirked my brow, fists placed on my hips as I watched the two of them full on brawl. The male with the longer hair hand tightly wrapped bands around his fists, soaked in blood. From his or his opponents, I wasn’t sure, but it was so dark it was almost black. 
“I told you I wanted you to observe her,” Nesta murmured, gesturing to the show before us. 
That was her? Her frame was anything but feminine. But when they switched sides of the ring, her face was softer. Not soft, not supple and smooth, but she didn’t have a pronounced features. Dark hair and eyes and this feral expression within them. 
With a final blow to the bottom of his chin, the Valkyrie knocked him flat on his back, an uproar rising from the crowd. She stood over top of him, shoulder rolling up and down with breaths. She said something to him, but I couldn’t make it out from here. 
Maybe I’ll go find out for myself. 
Other camp members threw up more coins and such, leaving them in heaping piles for her to collect. The bloodied and swollen male limped away, a look of pure shame, regret, and revenge on his face.
He wouldn’t meet my eyes as I passed.
“Khyra,” I called to get her attention. 
“Lord Cassian,” she bowed her head. I returned it, taking in her exerted body. She wore no shoes and cut off pants. Her shirt was stained with the other male's blood. It couldn’t have been hers, she didn’t have any cuts. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve seen you’re beginning to leave quite a reputation behind,” I pulled down one of the ropes for her to climb through. “Nesta speaks highly of you.”
“As she should,” was all she said. As she stood in front of me, it was clear that she was certainly not built like the rest of the females. Not like any other female I had seen before, either. 
The top of her head rested at my nose. Khyra’s hair was a lighter shade of brown now that I was up close, eyes to match. But her frame is what I couldn’t figure out. Her muscles looked more like those of the males, especially her legs and arms which were exposed to the humid air of the summer. She was riddled with scars and marks, none of which came from today’s spar. 
“My mate asked that I come and watch your training. She says it is not anything she has seen before, in her few years of training Valkyries.” “I am most certainly not like the other Valkyries, Cassian,” she snorted, tossing on a longer shirt, folding in the ripped seams of her cut off pants. 
“Clearly,” I retorted. “Is your training complete for the day?”
“Not at all.” 
“Do you have another round in you?”
She gave me a wicked look. “I don’t know, Lord of Bloodshed, are you looking for an asskicking?” “You seem very sure about yourself,” I climbed into the ring. “If Nesta is as sure of you as she says she is, I don’t see the harm of asking for a fair fight to truly test your abilities.”
“Are you sure you want to play this game?” Khyra gestured to the injured Illyrian that was tending to his wounds a few feet away, sending us dirty looks. 
“I’d want nothing more.”
I hardly even saw her move. She was just there in front of me in a split second, her hand striking across my face. My head jerked, but snapped back just as fast, balled fist flying towards her. Khyra evaded with minimal effort. 
She was agile, limber and could throw her body into the air and deliver a devastating blow. The next few she didn’t land on me, but she rolled off the mat and took my legs out from under me. My hands landed behind me, propelling me forward as I lunged for her. 
It was clear that she wasn’t just another Illyrian female. No. She was something no one had seen for a long time. Her punches were stronger, her kicks impossibly fast. 
For what felt like hours– and what probably was– we spared. Sweat seeping out of us, mixing together when we’d collide like two ancient forces. Blood sprayed from our mouths, our noses and cut eyebrows. 
The sun was near setting, an extensive crowd gathering around the ring, more bets being placed as to who would be the first to conceded. 
Khyra whirled behind me and I spun a little too late. She landed a devastating side kick to my diaphragm and I dropped to the mat, clutching my chest. Her knee ground into my cheek and I sprawled on my back, eyes hazy and half closed. She placed her foot on my throat and pinned me to the ground, not enough to close off air but a firm reminder of what she was still capable of doing. 
“How would you like to lose your pride? By conceding now or getting knocked unconscious by a Valkyrie?” 
I groaned, blood streaking down my face and bare chest. I tapped the side of her ankle with lazy fingers and she released me from my pin. Khrya took the moment to admire her handy work; bringing the most powerful Illyrian to his knees was not an easy task, and I knew I’d never live it down.
Not that that was a problem. Clearly she is far better than any of us have realized. A warm pride simmers through me at the realization that Nesta was the one to awaken this in her. She was one tough fighter, I’ll admit that.
She was quick to gather her belongings, sending a threatening glance at those around us to get out of her way before she did to them what she just did to their commander. 
“Thanks for the session, Cassian,” Khyra groaned, bending to pick up a canteen off the floor. “Next time, if you’d like a chat, a chair and a nice cup of broth would be much nicer.”
As she walked off, there was this presence about her. She was... lethal. In a way I hadn't seen in decades.
“Khrya,” a voice shouted, Emerie’s, “You did that to Cassian? Are you out of your mind?” “He started it,” she shrugged, tossing a shirt over her shoulder. I had ripped it to shreds when she speared me mid air; I was just trying to get a hold on her, but she was far more nimble than I was. Able to slip through my grasp so effortlessly. “He asked to dance so I showed him how to tango.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means but you might want to keep an eye out for him. He is not exactly known for his kindness and second chances.”
“Well,” she sighed, bending over to relace her boots, “If he does decide to go for round two, I’m sure he’ll think twice about coming alone.”
____
“Oh, Cass we were just getting ready to… what the hell happened to you?” Rhys grimaced as he looked at my face. 
We made it back to the House in the next couple of hours, not without having Nesta tend to my wounds in the camp. My eye was swollen shut, bruises matching across my face, knuckles, and ribs. I hissed as I tried to gain feeling back in my severed lip. 
“Nesta insisted that I go check out this Valkyrie, Khyra. Safe to say that she is not like the other trainee’s.”
“How long has she been a Valkyrie?” The High Lord asked, taking in my beaten and swollen face.
“According to Nesta and Emerie, just about five weeks?”
“Five weeks?” his eyes nearly fell out of his skull. “Five weeks and she did that? I don’t think so.”
“It’s true,” Nesta emerged from around my shoulders, a very amused look on her face. “Glad to see that she put a beating on you. You need it. And yes, Khyra has been training for just over five weeks now. At least with me. When the new trainee’s came signed up, she lined up with them. She cut the ribbon on her first day.”
“Should we be keeping an eye on her?” Rhys asked, taking up his spot at the head of the table. “Do you think she will overtake the camp? Gain a following and start a council?”
“No, she doesn’t need to be watched,” I groaned while getting into my seat. “All I know is that she is damn strong, we went at it for a few hours.”
Rhys gave me a look. I knew that look. Like it wasn’t the whole truth. “I'm serious, Rhys. she’s… she’s that good.”
“That may be, but I don’t know if I like the idea of her starting fights for money. We cannot afford to lose more people to this revolution that is already pressing on our weak spots.”
“I think you ought to go and speak with her,” Nesta takes up the seat to my left. “She’s far more powerful than you’re expecting.” I did not appreciate the gesture to my beaten and battered face. “What, it’s true, isn’t it?”
“I thought you were on my side?”
“I am,” she rested a hand on my forearm. “But she’s my protege, am I not allowed to be proud of her for knocking your pride down a few pegs?”
I just rolled my eyes. “What do you think, brother?” Azriel just tipped the wine glass to his lips. “I think that any female who can make you look like that is a female worth talking to.” “Okay, when did this become ‘berate Cassian hour’?” “I don’t know but we should make it an annual tradition,” my mate grinned. I pinched her thigh hard as a warning for what would be to come for that remark.
“Cauldron alive, Cass what the hell happened to you?” Mor was not shy when she leaned over to look at my face better. “I thought you were just going to Windhaven to-” “I did,” I snarled, letting my shoulders sink down into themselves, wincing at the hurt. “Now can we all shut up and enjoy a meal?”
_____
KHYRA POV
There was a soft knock at my door and I stopped my chopping to answer it. On the other side were three tall, familiar faces. The High Lord, his Spymaster Azriel, and the Commander of Windhaven armies, Cassian.
All three looked mildly pissed off.
“Khyra, is it?” The High Lord spoke with an unforgiving coolness to his voice, violet eyes boring into mine. “Cassian tells me that you are rather well equipped and well versed in combat, despite only having been training for a little over a month.”
“Come to receive a set of shiners like him, did you?” I crossed my arms, leaning against the frame of my door. “Is there something I can do for you three or can I go back to the stew I’ve been prepping all day?”
Azriel’s eyes followed the trail of the design in my leathers. To the siphons glimmering in the glow of the end of the day sun. Cassian seemed to notice them in the same beat, as well as the High Lord. He straightened his tense shoulders.
“I’d like to personally invite you to Velaris, my home, if you’ll accept my offer.”
“Per what terms?” “No terms,” Rhysand shook his head. “A mere visit, if you’d like.”
I scanned them all, not truly believing his words. I pushed off my shoulder, leaving the door open behind me as I went back to my station in the kitchen. Their shuffling indicated that they came inside.
“I am honored, High Lord, but I am afraid I must stay here,” I sighed. “I now have everyone out to get me since I have made my intentions very clear in this camp. There are bastards who want to beat me, take my spot, rape me, clip my wings… you name it. I can’t leave my cabin unattended. And, before you offer, I don’t need a guard dog, so save your breath.”
“Your choice, Valkyrie,” The Shadowsinger spoke, his voice deep and raspy. “I suggest you take our High Lord up on his offer.”
I turned to look at them. “If I leave, they will burn my house to the ground and everything inside. Now unless you plan on repurchasing everything in here, recrafting centuries old artifacts and irreplaceable family heirlooms, then sure I’m all ears. But I cannot risk sacrificing everything I’ve worked and hustled for because of a visit.”
“I can make sure that there will be no harm done to your property,” Rhysand assured, a flicker of light in his hand. “Your belongings will remain untouched.”
I watched as he placed a barrier over my small residence, I could feel its power emanating around me, against my bones. It rattled my teeth.
“Can it be another evening, I don’t want my food to go to waste,” I contained my eye roll. I did not feel like traveling. I was sore and spent from training, still nursing some injuries from taking on the General Commander. Even a few weeks later. 
“Azriel will winnow you in, see you at the house.” I guess it was not up for debate. Great, a good portion of my winnings from my fight against Cassian gone to waste. 
I flicked off the stove, cutting off the coals oxygen supply so the fire would die out quicker. The High Lord and Cassian were gone when I came back into my main hallway, the Shadowsinger relaxed against the wall.
“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked.
“No,” I said.
“If you vomit all over my leathers I will forward you the bill for the cleaning,” he said very upfront. Jeez, this male had no sense of humor. Well, if I had scars like his, I’m not sure I would either. 
I closed the door behind me, placing my hand on Azriel’s shoulder. The world dissipated, tendrils of darkness clouding my vision. Light streamed in, a magnificent house standing before me, a river running beside it. 
All the hair stood on the back of my neck as I felt the powerful wards put up around the manor. I made sure to keep my mark on all of them, my four siphons glimmering with life against the darkness of my leathers. 
I followed behind the Shadowsinger, my height nearly his. The shadows protruding from him circled around me, trying to draw me closer. I kept trying to shew them away, but they refused to budge.
“Apologies,” Azriel said, casting his eyes away from mine. “They roam, especially when they are curious.”
I just hummed, watching one disconnect and latch onto my fingers, swirling and darting around. 
We came to a grand room, the High Lord and Cassian already inside, sitting in various plush cushions and chairs made to accommodate wings.
“Khyra, please sit. I have something I’d like to talk with you about,” The High Lord had a small smile on his lips, the facade now vacant as the stars shone in his eyes. “After Cassian made his trip to Windhaven last month, it has become clear that you are an elite Valkyrie, surpassing Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie in their training. It is a wonder how you became so vibrant with your power in such a short time. You have four siphons, that is well above the male average. And there hasn’t been a female to wield siphons. Ever.”
“Your point?” I shifted in my seat, muscles locked and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. 
The High Lord shared a look at Cassian, then to Azriel, as if to ask if they were ready to agree upon something they previously conversed about. 
“We want you to join us, here in Velaris, and become a part of Court Assets. Officially as Commanding Officer of the Valkyrie Warriors.”
The words hung heavy in the air, floating around my head as I looked from the High Lord to his Illyrian counterparts.
“And what if I refuse?” I asked.
“Khyra, I highly suggest that-” “I said if, not that I was going to,” I interrupted the Shadowsinger. He surely liked to be a nuisance. “What if I don’t wish to command the Valkyrie?”
“Then that is your own choice, there would be no consequence.” “And if I were to accept?”
“You would work directly for me, living here, if you wish. Not in this residence, but in our House of Wind, or finding your own space, if you’d like. Or you could remain in Windhaven. Cassian and Azriel would be who’d train you on military tactics and war strategy. They are far better versed in it than I ever was.”
I, again, looked around the room, an unreadable expression on Cassian's face, but even more unreadable on the Shadowsinger. The air was tense, unwavering debate filtered in and out of me with each breath as I weighed my options in my head.
“What would my responsibilities be?”
“Training the new recruits, overseeing the Valkyrie training rudiments and things of that nature. Conducting recruiting events around Prythian, basic war simulations, and keeping the different camps from killing each other.” “Sounds really rewarding,” I didn’t stop my eyes from rolling this time. “This doesn’t sound like something I’d want to sign up for, I much prefer being a soldier, High Lord.”
“You will still be a soldier,” Cassian pushed off from beside Rhysand. “Even as your own legion of Illyrian warriors, the Valkyrie still fall under my overall jurisdiction. You don’t stop your training, it just shifts its focus.”
“So instead of getting to kick the lesser male's ass, I get to kick yours, fantastic.” I rubbed the space between my brows, “Fine, I’ll accept your offer. But I do not wish to leave Illyria, I don’t see a reason to.”
“If you change your mind, our borders are always open to you, Khyra,” Rhysand gave a final nod. “Would you stay for dinner? To meet the rest of our Inner Circle?” “Inner Circle?” I scoffed a laugh. I snickered, but the three Illyrians didn’t seem to find it as funny as I did. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t intend on becoming friends with your acquaintances. This is strictly business.”
“We are a family here, Khyra, and we operate as such. We have built a strong bond and it is what has allowed us to prevail time and time again. It comes with the job offer. That is not up for debate.”
“Fine,” I said flatly. “Are we done here? I’d like to get back to my cabin and change before I attend.”
“Yes, you are free to go,” Rhysand pressed his lips tightly against one another. “I will have Azriel winnow you back, dinner is in just a few hours and flying takes far longer than that.”
I didn’t miss the glare Cassian sent his High Lord as I followed the Shadowsinger out of the house. When we materialized in front of my cabin, I didn’t offer for Azriel to come inside. He didn’t follow, or ask to, thankfully. 
But that shadow lingered, curled around my wrist like a never ending bracelet. It slithered up my arm and across my neck to the other, intertwining between my fingers and back. It was a cool sensation, leaving behind a night kiss on my skin, an echo of its presence on my body.
I changed into the finest clothes I had, which was a fresh pair of Illyrian leathers. Brand new, purchased just the other day from Emerie’s shop. She had taken to designing the Valkyries their own distinct patterns. My previous ones I stole off the back of some male during my time in the Blood Rite. 
These new ones were even bolder than the last ones, its intricate scaled design curving around my body; up and around my chest, around my thighs and backside. I situated the emerald siphons in their casted holsters, attaching my Ribbon to my wrist, bringing my hair in the ancient Valkyrie way. I let the fish skeleton braid fall over my left shoulder, tucking away the shorter bits in the front. 
When I emerged, the shadows came back, enticing me to the front of the door, right to where Azriel stood. 
The male was a sight for sore eyes; his deep hazel eyes shimmering with flecks of deep brown. His hair stark against the plain gray sky. He was built more similarly to the High Lord, more lean than Cassian was. The shadows swirling around his shoulders, around the tips of his wings, writhing and whispering in his ear.
“We don’t wear our fighting leathers to these sorts of events,” he answered even though no question provoked one. He was a bit of a hypocrite since he was wearing his own. He must’ve seen the unimpressed look because he said, “I haven't had the chance to change.”
“I am proud to wear my leathers,” I stood my ground, meeting his eyes. “If you have a problem with that then I suggest you learn quickly how to keep your shadows to yourself, Illyrian, before I send them crawling back to wherever they came from.”
My threat didn’t go unnoticed, the emeralds thrumming with desire to emphasize my discretion. Azriel gave me a pointed nod, but winnowed back to Velaris, nonetheless. This time we ended up in a dining hall, a long table decorated with wine cloth and flowers stained the air. The setting sun filled the room with the most vibrant colors I’ve ever seen in my life. 
A very stark difference to the barely golden hue Windhaven got on the day to day. 
“The others are not ready yet, and I thought that Cassian and I should use this time to get to know you better,” Azriel took a seat by the corner, one of the four chairs that were made to accompany wings. I took the one across from him, the General coming in moments later and taking up the one beside him. 
“I’m surprised you haven’t done a complete background check,” I snickered, jutting my chin out to the swirling dark behind the Shadowsinger. 
“We have,” Azriel gave an equally bored sigh. “They just didn’t find anything relevant.”
“I am a pretty lucrative person, Shadowsinger. I don’t kiss and tell very easily.”
“We are well aware of that. When did you first come to Windhaven?” Cassian asked.
“I was born here,” I propped my chin on my palm. “Unlike you three, this wretched place is the only one I’ve ever been to. Besides Velaris, now I suppose, but I’ve never left.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Revenge,” I said coolly. “My father raped my mother, as I am sure you all are familiar with inside these camps, and I saw it justice enough to bring him to his own fate. That was last year, and ever since I’ve been training on my own. Emerie wouldn’t leave me alone in regards to the Valkyrie training. So I went, cut the ribbon, and kicked Cassian's ass. Now I'm here.”
“We’ve heard about you,” Azriel looked me up and down.
“I’m curious as to what you’ve heard,” I crossed my arms across my chest, tucking my impressive wings tightly behind me. 
“We knew that you were quite the Valkyrie from Nesta’s tellings, but to see it in action is a whole other level,” Azriel started. “It is quite impressive to see a female of your height and build, and to see you move the way that you do. Cassian said it reminded him a lot of watching our High Lord train when he was younger. The fluidity of your body, the way your weapon becomes an extension of your arm. It is smoothe, and original. Not a forced practice like some of the others.”
“I feel as if that is precisely what everyone should be doing,” I countered. “Everything has to stop being so by the book and a lot more about energy and flow. About the why and less about the ‘because I said so’.”
“It takes some warriors decades to learn what you have in just a few weeks,” Cassian expressed, leaning forward on his elbows. “Even we weren’t as good as you are now in that short time.” 
“Is that your way of saying that I’m better than you?” I asked the General. 
“Do you honestly believe that compared to my five centuries of experience that you’d stand a chance in a real battle?” 
“Yes,” I gave a short nod. “Granted I might be smaller than you, have three less siphons, but it makes you scared that I am equally as capable as you are, doesn’t it? You too, Shadowsinger. Your little friends haven’t left me alone since we met hours ago, I think they know that I am not to be taken so lightly.”
The room was silent, save for all our breath. Through the quiet I could hear a strap unlatch, the sound of metal scraping across cloth itching my ear. I locked eyes with the Shadowsinger, able to feel the microscopic vibrations of his movements through the shadow that was currently sliding up my ankle. 
He clasped a blade in his hand. 
My eyes shift to Cassian who seemed to spare Azriel a worried glance. A rush of voices snapped us all out of the intense staredown, the High Lord and Lady entering the room, elbows locked around one another. I stood up, not having been raised without some respect for our Court Masters.
“Khyra, this is Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court,” Rhysand wore a proud smile. 
“A pleasure, Lady,” I returned her smile, despite the shiver crawling down my back. 
“Feyre, please,” she waved off. “I see you have met Cassian and Azriel already. We’re just waiting on Mor and Amren, my sisters are coming in any second.”
As told, the two older Archeron’s entered the room, giving their pleasantries to the two winged brutes at the table. I’m sure none of them heard the blade sheath back into its place. 
Morrigan, who was far more beautiful than I anticipated, entered next, followed by a bob of black hair behind her. Those silver eyes must belong to Amren. They all took seats around us, conversation filling the room. 
I answered the questions I was asked, but never made an effort to ask my own. To me, all of this was still business. I kept a close eye on the Shadowsinger and the General. Both of them kept an eye on me. When dinner was around halfway over, Amren spoke. “Khyra, I would like to hear about your beating on Cassian. The amount of copper and gold pieces I would’ve given up to see that.”
I felt my throat close. “He was looking for a challenger, and I accepted. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“No no,” Nesta wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Khyra and Cassian went at it for hours, there was quite the crowd. She won by a longshot. I’m sure I would’ve been killed if I tried to do what you did, I know better than to get in the sparring ring with that fool.”
“I can’t believe you willingly fought Cassian,” Elain said, a blush to her cheek.
“Like I said, I just accepted the challenge,” I speared a carrot onto my fork, letting its snap echo. The cool brush of Azriel’s shadows crept up my skin, and I shot him a glare. His gaze was firmly on the plate in front of him, or his High Lord as he spoke to Nesta.
I watched him intently, taking in the scars on his hands. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t beautiful.
The inky tendril crept up my chest, up my neck and to my ear.
“Keep these to yourself, Shadowsinger,” I grit through my teeth, its presence igniting my flesh in an unnatural way. His jaw worked, refusing to look up at me. “I mean it.”
Cassian caught the hiss from across the table, casting a glance, pausing his chewing. I heard the strap unlatch yet again, this time hearing his grip suction around its handle. I kicked the leg of the table as hard as I could, its corner collapsing closest to Azriel. He, along with everyone else, jumped back, and I caught a glimpse of the blade in his hand. Its power trembled in the air.
He lunged for me, and I effortlessly evaded, using my strength to shove the table into his body so he’d have to make an effort to get to me. Plates and glasses of unfinished wine were shattered on the floor, crunching under my boots as I hurdled over the broken wood, driving my hand into Azriels throat. 
He let out a gasp, swinging his arm at full force to try and scrape me. I steadied myself out of the way, bringing my arms up to protect myself when he came right back. I managed to avoid any attempts he made, but Cassian was quick to aid his brother. I kicked behind me straight into the General’s knee, sending him to the ground. 
Azriel was back on me in seconds, his body twisting and turning in every which way, shadows whirling around and around. I landed a kick to his gut, and sent him into the wall. 
Cassian tried to tackle me, but I rolled with him, landing on top and delivering a catastrophic blow right to his sternum, then right where his neck met his chest, leaving him gasping for air. I braced for Azriel when his hands clamped around my throat.
I curled my legs up and over myself, latching his head in between my knees, throwing them down. He tumbled, and I squeezed as hard as I could. Pain pierced my body, that blade he had been wielding now several inches deep in my thigh. I didn’t let it falter my grip, using my legs to pin his frantic wings down.
His eyes began to flutter close so I released him, scrambling to my knees, ripping the blade out, and dragging the gasping Illyrian against my chest. I gripped his chin and held the blade against it, taking a look around the disheveled room. 
I was met with the intense and furious eyes of the High Lord– as to be expected– but Feyre and the others seemed to have this look of awe in their eyes. 
I pressed the blade deeper into his throat, and he hissed. I stood, dragging him with me. I locked my fingers in his hair, kicking him to his knees. 
“Okay,” the High Lord spoke all too calmly. “You’ve made your point. I suggest you let go of my Spymaster or you’re going to meet a very lovely place underneath a very tall mountain.” “You think I’m afraid of the Prison?” My laugh was anything but friendly. “I slaughtered my own father, I face a fate far worse than rotting in a chamber, High Lord. That would seem like a vacation for where I’m going.”
“Let go of Azriel. Now.” He demanded, and I felt razor sharp talons creep down my spine, caress my soul as a gentle reminder of the things he was capable of doing. I did not loosen my grip, nor did I break my eye contact. 
“Rhys,” Feyre spoke, “Get out of her head.”
The presence left and I let my breath go. They seemed to exchange a heated conversation behind their eyes, and Rhysand came back looking defeated. I dared a glance at Cassian who slowly pushed to his feet, joining everyone on the other side of the room. 
“I suppose she will do,” Rhysand tilted his head, a more impressed look coming over his features. 
“Suppose I will do for what?” I snarled, strengthening my grip on the blade. 
“I hosted this dinner tonight to see how well you could handle yourself against a threat. I asked Cassian and Azriel to provoke you and take you on, at the same time, merely just to assess your skills and see what you are capable of. Mostly because I didn’t believe him, and partly for my own amusement. Clearly, you are far stronger than any of us realize since you were able to survive an attack by Truth Teller and are still standing. Remarkable.”
My blood boiled, burned and scalded my insides so deep I thought about throwing the blade at the High Lord himself. I gave Azriel one good blow to the back of the head and he went tumbling forward, completely stunned and unable to move. I planted my foot in between his wings, pressing deeper and deeper until he cursed. 
“Lie to me one more time and I will bring down a terror on you so vast you will not have time to prepare or to run or to hide. I will start with the Shadowsinger, then your General. Then I will tear every Illyrian to pieces and leave their wings on your front door step as a reminder that I am not one to betray. You think you have an idea of what I am capable of, High Lord? I do not take dishonesty lightly, I suggest you don’t ever let it happen again.”
I took my foot off his back and dropped the blade to his side. Rhysand watched me closely, tracking every single one of my movements.
“I think I might need to find myself at training tomorrow,” Morrigan whispered to Nesta. She gave me a heady glance from head to toe, eyes burning. 
“Consider this your formal introduction to our Court, Khyra,” Rhysand gave a blisteringly fake smile. “But I suggest that if you throw threats in my home again you should prepare to never walk out of here again.” My mind seized yet again, and I fell beside Azriel. My neck strained, and my vision darkened. 
“You were invited here as a guest, and for a place of employment. Don’t take it for granted because I can easily find a replacement and send you to the Court of Nightmares.”
Spit collected in my esophagus with the force of his hold on me. “See you say that and yet, there is no one capable of competing against me. We all know that.”
Through my strangled speech, he had this scowl on his face. He dropped me and I rubbed the ache in my shoulders. “Your post will begin, effective immediately. You will report here to me every week and discuss the things that are being discussed and spread through the camps. While you are in Windhaven, you will receive one on one training from Cassian and Azriel to further develop your skills.”
“Great,” I pushed to my feet. “Am I excused or do I need to finish all my vegetables before I can leave to go play?”
I saw Morrigan suck in her lips, Amren with a wry smile on hers. Elain had a deep blush, Nesta a smirk to match Amren’s. Feyre looked equally amused and concerned, but didn’t give me a look of disgust when I brushed past.
“Oh, and Khyra,” Rhysand’s voice made me pause in the hall. “If you ever threaten to kill Azriel or Cassian ever again, I’ll make sure you never see a Velaris sunset ever again.”
I don’t know how, or why, that made me recoil, but it did. I guess if I had one thing to look forward to, it’d be that. Seeing anything other than gray and brown and the general bleh that was Windhaven. 
“Noted.” Was all I said.
62 notes · View notes
bangtan7butnotonly · 27 days
Text
ACOTAR Completely Fell Off After Book Two
- A popular opinion
I've said it before and I'll say it again, book five is unmitigated bullshit. Everyone's personality got fucked except Nes and Cas. Like, come on, Feyre becomes a nobody, Rhys becomes an asshole, Amren attempts to convince Rhys to take over the fucking world, and Mor in implied to be jealous of Nesta. What??? She's jealous that Nes is hooking up with Cassian??? Why? On so many levels that makes no sense, and Maas never goes anywhere with it.
Book one was strong, book one could function as a stand-alone. Book two was also strong, if and only if book three was strong too and delivered on the expectations, loose ends, and unanswered questions book two had left us with. Spoiler alert, it didn't.
The King of Hybern is a shallow, one-dimensional antagonist. I've met Disney villains with more justification, Marvel villains with more backstory. Naruto gave me better antagonists than ACOTAR. Rhys does some questionable shit in this book. Amren dying and then undying with no explanation takes all the meaning and weight out of her sacrifice (and look what she went on to do in book five, get her personality completely overlooked for five minutes of tension. Stay dead, girlie) The list could go on forever.
I think we all know what happened here. Maas had no idea what to do with her story beyond book two. Book one, solid. Book two, solid, but leaves book three with some work to do. Book three, does none of that work, bs. Book four, it's 200 pages and doesn't count, filler. Book five, unmitigated directionless bullshit. Wtf was happening with that human queen??? Nothing that happened in the “main plot” of that book made any sense (whether we're diving in and taking this as their lives that they're living or as Maas's fictional narrative) the only good part was Nesta and the girls.
Anyway, so concludes my rant. I love the Court of Dreams to death, but they deserved a better author and a better story.
OH! And wt actual f is going to happen in this alleged book six???? Like, book five's ending felt like closure. Please god tell me this is not going to be an Elaine x Azriel switching POV like book five🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 The only thing worse would be if it was a timeskip and Nyx is our MC. I would actually burn the book.
OHHH! I also hate that Nesta and Cassian are mates. I really thought Feyre and Rhys would be destined love, soulmates, an example of how beautiful it is when the bond works out, Nes and Cas would be love without the mating bond, and no less valid or beautiful, and Elaine would be finding her mate and choosing not to take him, and also choosing not to take the other suiter. I thought Elaine would end up either with Greysen or with some rando from Velaris (if rando, then off page. The series would end with her single and happy)
Anyway, yeah✌🏼
23 notes · View notes
azsazz · 1 year
Text
All the Words We Cannot Say
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Feyre and Rhys had made a pact. And the worst had come true.
Warnings: Death of MC, funeral, SAD AF
Word Count: 1,948
Notes: Idk why I wrote this tbh.
_________________________________________
The babe in your arms is restless, writhing and squirming, crying out for his parents.
Nyx’s screams are the only thing to be heard throughout Velaris, slicing through the bitter cold as it nears a new day. The babes screeches engulf each and every citizen, writhing up through the crowd and echoing between the sandy colored buildings, topped with snow. The delicate icicles are knocked free from the rooftops, but not even they dare make a noise as they shatter in the cobblestone streets.
The Sidra shudders, water rippling at the surface of the otherwise stagnant river, frozen much like the rest of the city. No one dares move, the entirety of the metropolis gathered in the most beloved section of the square – The Rainbow.
Males and females stand tall, and the children even seem to be sensing the seriousness of the situation, not a single shuffle of feet or sniffle to be heard. Some situated with their heads bowed, others with their chins lifted to the dark night sky, no stars or moon in sight.
You shift Nyx in your arms, trying to avoid his flailing limbs as best as you can.
The tiny obsidian crown he’d donned when you and the Inner Circle had arrived is now in Azriel’s hands. The circlet of midnight stone had been ripped off by his small fists in a tantrum of rage, as if he could sense that there was something wrong, even at the young age he was.
Azriel fingers the tiny jewels inlaid into the metal, his throat working around a thick swallow. 
His eyes are burning. They had been since he’d heard the news. He can hardly look up at them, didn’t want this to be how he remembered them, and everytime Nyx howls from your arms the cavern in his chest splits further and further.
He has no idea how you’re managing when all he wants to do is collapse and let the tears fall and anguish out, everything he’s pent up since he’d heard the news. 
How was anyone managing the death of their High Lord and Lady?
He’d spent the first few days furious with the both of them for making such a stupid decision, their pact of love, an act so reckless that neither of them had thought about the future of their outcome. They thought they’d get lucky and live for thousands of years, protected and in love.
Now Nyx is parentless.
Azriel hadn’t felt like he’d been able to breathe, the announcement of their deaths had punched the air from his stomach, seemed to collapse his lungs, his bones had turned to dust as he crashed onto the ground, knees cracking against the floors of the River House.
He hadn’t felt the pain though, because he couldn’t feel anything other than the pure, raw, sadness that crashed around him in waves.
You’d been there. Been with Nyx when his father’s power had shifted to him. You knew it because his violet eyes had glowed with the magic, his wallop of surprise. Your mouth had soured, face tightened, trying to control the sudden rush of emotions so you could care for the distressed babe in your arms.
This…he doesn’t raise his head, peeking up from under thick lashes lined with tears that had frozen over quickly. The coldest day of the year, of his life.
This is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, lay his High Lord and Lady–his brother and sister–to rest.
There’s an urge creeping up inside of you, crawling from deep within your chest like vines, an ache to help take the babes pain away as he wriggles tirelessly in your hold.
You are at a crossroads with the feeling. The High Lord in your arms should be awake to see this, but no child should have to.
Nyx is still reaching out to his mother and father before him, resting in exquisite coffins up on the dais built in the center of the city. Plush cushions rest beneath them, covered in the darkest black you’ve ever seen, swallowing all of the color like a void. They’re too still, too pale, faces resting peacefully as they lie side by side.
They’re dressed in the Night Court’s finest, deep velvety fabric that is so dark it hardly even looks like anything besides a block of darkness. A silver coin is perched upon both of their closed lips, the side with the Night Court crest – the mountaintops hugged by the three stars Azriel could look over his shoulder to see – facing up to the pitch black sky.
Whoever had prepared them had placed Feyre’s tattooed hand in Rhysands, the High Lord and Lady seeming just in love as they were as they were when they–
Azriel sends a pulse of encouragement down the bond, and your chest tightens. You glimpse down at Amren, Rhys’ second in command now ruler of the Night Court until the babe in your arms turns of age.
She doesn’t spare a glance towards you, her black bob jerking as she gives the order.
You inhale as much of a breath as you can, which is nothing more than a sharp intake, nearly a gasp. The cold air slices through you, awakening your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with it. It takes more than you are willing to admit, digging deep inside of yourself to find room for the babes suffering.
Your hands warm against Nyx’s back and your face crumples as you draw his pain away, the feeling cutting through your own emotions like the sharpest blade in Velaris is flaying your skin directly from your bones.
Your hands begin to shake but you continue on until Nyx settles in your arms, going lax in your grip. When you open your eyes the babe is sound asleep.
The silence is deafening now that Nyx has fallen silent. Azriel’s shadows twitch around him anxiously, his wings pulled high and tight, shoulders aching with the rigidness. He wants the babe to be awake, even if he doesn't understand what is about to happen as soon as the moon reaches its peak in the sky.
He can’t stop staring at Rhysand now. He hadn’t seen his brother with a face that peaceful since…since the heir had won his first snowball fight.
Azriel’s throat tightens as the memory flashes before him. He blinks harshly, wildly. He couldn’t think of such happy times when his brother is lying before him with his wife, dead, while their son is cradled in his mate’s arms, parentless.
He distracts himself, letting his shadows carry whispers of his friends standing with him, seeing how they’re all handling this.
Azriel knows this is difficult for you, that even with your abilities you were being smothered by the sorrow, grief, anger, and unrest of the citizens of Velaris at this gathering.
Oh how strong his beautiful mate is. It had been decided that you would be the main caretaker of Nyx, as you had been brought in by his parents to do so even before the babe was born. You had been a friend of Rhys’ for a long time, and the High Lord had thought that your abilities as an empath would be useful to his crown and then his son when he learned of Feyre’s pregnancy.
Which in turn means that Azriel would also be a guardian of the child.
A silken whisper that reminds him all too much of the unmoving brother before him tells him of the silent tears running down Cassian’s face, his lips pressed tightly together as to keep the cries of his own pain tucked within him.
Mor can hardly hold it together, her cousin and her best friend…she had lost both of them, one right after the other. Her blonde hair is the dullest it’s ever been, limp against her head as if it had died right alongside her family.
She has a hand pressed to her mouth, stifling her sobs as she stares at them, taking in every single detail of this moment before they are no more, before her bleary gaze turns to their son, repeating the process over and over again. Azriel wonders if she’s dizzy.
Amren is as stoic as usual, her face hardened and chin lifted, though he does note a softness to her dark eyes, like maybe the tiny creature has feelings after all.
And you…his mate, carrying the true High Lord of the Night Court.
Dealing with Nyx was a feat in itself, the quickly growing boy rapidly gaining powers, he didn’t know how the both of you would handle it.
But as he looks directly at his friends now, all of them each in turn, would bring their expertise to help teach Nyx to become the High Lord he knows that his parent’s wished for him to be.
The moon appears then, the thick clouds seeming to shift out of its path, as if even the weather knew that this was an important night, or maybe it was the Mother or the Gods, parting them so the moonlight could settle across the High Lord and Lady.
Rhys and Feyre’s skin glows under the sparkling planet in the sky. All of Velaris seems to be holding their breath.
It’s Amren who is the first to kneel, sliding silently to the ground, one curled fist pressed against her chest, head tipped back to bask in the moonlight, a silent prayer to the Mother looking down at you all.
You are the second, shifting the true High Lord fully into one arm so you can place your hand over your own heart, rocking your head back, silent tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, unable to contain the influx of emotions from your family and the mass of citizens congregated behind you as you kneel.
Even Nyx, in his sleep, has a fist tucked up against his heart, like he too, knows.
Mor, and then Cassian, and then it’s him who lowers himself to the ground, stretching his neck back to the sky. Azriel can feel the light, the magic settling over the city, like a thin veil of power that reminds him of Rhysand’s in his purest form.
The citizens follow, males and females and children alike take to their knees, paying respect to their fallen High Lord and Lady, but to the Mother as well.
A ripple of power sends shivers up his spine. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, he doesn’t want the last image he has of his brother and sister to be of them as they return to the stardust from which you were all born.
It would simply be too much.
It could take seconds, minutes, but to everyone it feels like hours until the presence of the magic is lifted away.
It’s done.
One by one, following Amren’s lead, you rise. The sky is now cloudless, millions upon millions of heavenly bodies dot the sky like a smattering of silver flecked freckles.
Nyx makes a noise from your arms, having awoken at the strange feeling of the Mother coming to claim his parents, help them return to the ether.
He’s watching something above you and you turn, catching a glimpse of the two beams soaring across the black sky, one violet and one blue, the same blue you had to guess was the one Feyre and Rhys had experienced of the star crashing into them on their first Starfall together.
Nyx giggles, reaching out for the blinks of colored light streaking across the heavens, intertwining with each other as they race along, taunting and teasing.
That was Rhys and Feyre all right.
Together forever.
373 notes · View notes
Text
SLUMBER PARTY
Tumblr media
Pairing: Nesta Archeron x Velaris!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, femxfem, cun*ilingus, hurt&comfort, jealous Nesta, will admit MC is kind of clueless just for sake of story, first story I've done for Nesta's character, might be slight OOC, got a little carried away xDD, I honestly wouldn't mind Nesta dominating me
Words: 5051
Summary: Nesta can’t help the poison that fumed inside of her as she watched (y/n) interacting with every male in Rita’s that sought after the female’s affections.
Tumblr media
Nesta didn't mind going out for a drink or two. Hell, it was her favorite thing to do. Or at least it used to be before she moved into the House of Wind. Right now she would very much appreciate a strong fermented nectar. But she had to keep her wits with her. She couldn't enjoy the numbing of the head that drinking brought on.
No, she had the responsibility of watching over you.
Who else would stop you from making a bad decision? If it wasn't for Nesta, more men would be harrassing her for a dance or any scrap of attention they could get from her.
There were two in particular that Nesta had her guarding eye on. And they just had to be the best friends of the night court's high lord. Even if she wanted to rip their linger hands off, she couldn't. There would be a terrible price to pay for that treason. Not that Nesta didn't debate the cost. She was starting to seriously devise a plan on how to get Cassian and Azriel away from you as you blindly giggle and lean against them for support. Azriel wasn't bothered as you bob against him in a drunken haze. He wraps an arm around her shoulders to assist her in standing upright. A few times he tries to coax the young fae to sit down but you weren't having it. To be the only one sitting would be admitting defeat. You'd boasted how you'd be able to drink them under the table. Bragged of your high tolerance (though to be fair, you were already about three drinks in before they arrived) you challenged them. Now your pride would most definitely be injured.
You were a stubborn thing.
It was something that Nesta loved and hated about you.
Cassian dips his head down to whisper something in your ear that has Nesta already making her way across the bar. That was too close for comfort.
Whatever he said made the pointed tips of your ears glow pink. You'd liked what he said and even flutter your lashes at him with your own reply.
"Uh-oh, here comes mama bear." Azriel chuckles at the approaching figure of Nesta that radiated with hostility. He can't take his arm off from you, otherwise you would completely fall into Cassian and make Nesta angrier.
You blink to refocus your sight and turn to where Azriel had gestured his head. Maybe it was all the drinks you had consumed in a short amount of time, but there was something about an angry Nesta that turned you on a little bit. Her eyes were always the lightest of blues but when enraged they intensified into an almost ethereal glow.They reflect the fury inside of her. The cerulean hue seem to dance with an electric energy. You also saw vulnerability in her. A raw authenticity that spoke to the depths of her soul.
"Nes!" The stupid grin you usually had on your face when drunk grew larger.
The spikes around her soften when you address her. Nesta reigns herself in. "(y/n), I think it's time we go home."
You frown at this. "But Az and Cass just got here!"
Ah. It was going to be one of those nights where she would have to be the bad guy and tear you away from having a good time.
Thankfully even Cassian seems to urge you toward Nesta. "She's right. Best to call it a night."
Azriel nods. "Get some rest and drink lots of water."
Annoyed by their sensibility, you grumble and call them a few choice words that only has them laughing as you follow Nesta out. She held your hand, making sure you didn't get lost or fall. Putting one foot in front of the other proved to be difficult in your state. Suppose it served you right for getting so drunk.
The cold Velaris night air is soothing against your warm face. Nesta has you close to her as she slows down for your sake.
"Don't look at me like that." You grumble when you feel her eyes on you.
"You overdid it. Look at you, you can barely walk." Nesta chides.
Hm, funny considering she had been just like you several months ago. Having drink after drink to numb your mind, anything to keep the agony at bay.
You don't give her a reply. Now you make more of an effort to walk by yourself and try to shrug her hand away with a quiet 'i'm fine'.
Your apartment building was coming up anyway and you wouldn't need her assistance from there.
She treated you like a child. You were young for a fae, but in worth of years you were far older than Nesta.
Putting distance between yourself and Nesta caused your unwanted companion to retract her hand as if she'd been burned. Hurt flickers briefly in her eyes but this is soon frozen over into an expression of calm acceptance.
You fish your small brass key out of your pocket and hold it up to the building entrance. Nesta still lingered close behind you. "Thank you for seeing me home, but I've got it from here."
In reply she skeptically purses her pretty pink lips, unwilling to let you go in alone. "I need to make sure you make it up the stairs."
"Nes-"
Her sharp eyes square off against you. "I won't chance you getting hurt. So deal with it."
Bossy. Were all first borns like this? You yourself were an only child and didn't have to deal with pesky siblings, either older or younger.
You knew she wouldn't relent. With a pout on your own face you give in and move so she can walk through the building's front door and help you up two flights of stairs until you were at your apartment door. Your fingers choose to play dumb as they struggle to get ahold of the suddenly slippery key.
Nesta takes your key ring from you and easily finds the one that matches your door's lock. Gently she pushes you aside so she could open the door.
After a long day it was good to be home.
When Nesta was drowning in her own alcoholism, her apartment had been sparse and unfurnished save for a lonely mattress on the floor. No, your apartment was truly your home. You fitted it with the finest tapestries and rugs along with little trinkets that tell the story of your life. You especially like your balcony garden that looks out to the sea of roofs under the beautiful Velaris sky.
Your bedroom is too far away so you settle for throwing yourself on your couch and immediately grab your comfy blanket that you liked to roll yourself in. Vaguely you hear Nesta in the background, most likely in the kitchen.
She sits next to you and offers a tall glass of water. "Drink this."
"I'm not thirsty." If anything you might have to pee soon.
"I'm not cleaning up your vomit again, (y/n)." she hisses. Tough love was definitely Nesta's display of affection. She only acted to tersely with you because of her worry for your wellbeing. She'd seen how violent your hangovers could be. Each time she was forced to nurse you back to relative health you didn't hear the end of it from her. She chastised you along with making sure to show how much of an inconvenience it was for her. She hated missing her valkyrie training. Her move to the House of Wind had been against her will in the beginning. Now she seemed to actually be enjoying it. Not only did she have training to keep her occupied, but also the massive library that lay underneath. Friends were even a staple in her life now. You'd met Gwyn and Emerie. They tried to get you into training too and while you partially entertained the idea, Nesta didn't want you anywhere near the training grounds. She didn't want you getting hurt. That excuse made Emerie roll her eyes and Gwyn laughed at Nesta's painfully obvious protective nature of you. She didn't seem too inclined to treat them like she treated you.
"I'm not your responsibility." You slur and sit up. "You know that right? Before I met you I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I may not know how to fight like you but I can still protect myself if the need arises."
Conflict storms her face, her lips part to say something but she couldn't will her words to come out. Instead she huffs and puts the glass of water on the coffee table. Without anything to occupy her hands, you notice Nesta anxiously toying with her fingers. "I know that." For Nesta, it was near impossible to admit her feelings. A few times you were able to crack into her to see glimpses of the Nesta she hid from the rest of the world. She guarded herself well. But you could tell when something was bothering her.
When you went out drinking (and with the hopes of finding someone to bring back for a quick fuck) you acknowledged the way Nesta glared at anyone who showed interest in you. And when you went off to flirt, there was a brief flash of hurt before she put up her wall. Not for the first time, you wonder if Nesta had deeper feelings for you. Maybe you were reading too much into things and fooling yourself. It would explain her protectiveness toward you.
For the first time in several hours, her eyes turn vulnerable as she looks at the floor. If you still weren't upset with her, you'd most likely be kicking yourself for making her look so sad. "I can't. . . I can't help it. You let those lesser men touch you with their grubby paws. It upsets me greatly." This was all new territory for Nesta but for you she was trying to be open about her true feelings instead of hiding behind her mask of indifference. These moments were so rare and you tried not to blink. In your drunken haze, you sober up slightly and lean into Nesta. At your nearness, you feel her body stiffen but once she accommodates to your close presence she relaxes. She still doesn't look at you but you don't mind.
Tongue loose from your drinking made you vocally question her. "Why do you think that is?"
She huffs impatiently at herself and by the ticking of her jaw you know she's fighting to get the words out.
Thoroughly making up her mind, Nesta lets out a short sigh and finally turns up her blue-gray eyes. How could anyone be so effortlessly breathtaking? Nesta never put on makeup as it was never needed. You'd heard from Feyre that when Nesta went into the Cauldron, she'd already been quite beautiful as a human. But as a high fae her good looks were almost terrifying. Her personality aided in enhancing her austereness. Many were intimidated by her. Even the general himself would admit he would not want to be Nesta's enemy. Especially now that she's been training and getting stronger.
You were never intimidated by Nesta. Not even when you were first introduced to her. Your first impression of her was one where you felt like you were struck by an invisible arrow. She had such an heir of authority around her, forbidding any from getting close to her.
There's a hunger in her eyes as she looks at you now. Her long, black lashes cast shadows over her eyes before she brings her hand to your face. Fingers trail along the line of your jaw, coming to rest on your chin as you stare dumbly at her. You didn't breathe, not even a little bit as the pad of her thumb runs across your plump bottom lip. The trail she'd made from your jaw to your chin burned as did your bottom lip.
"I can please you far better than they ever could." She says finally.
The heat from your face is making your head swim and for a moment you worry that you were actually going to pass out. "You. . ." Nesta had been with plenty before. You wouldn't be her first. But you'd never heard her talk about any sexual experiences with females. She'd only ever bedded males. Yet she was confident in herself that even without any experience with females she'd be able to give you pleasure.
And you didn't doubt that she could, especially if the way you were feeling from just a little touching indicated to how willing your body was toward her. And it would be a lie if you said you'd never had any weird dreams of you and Nesta making out or getting into some real heavy petting. They'd only ever been dreams though with no possibility of becoming real. You never imagined Nesta to be into females, let alone you.
That one word you were able to get out was enough for Nesta to give into her desire and stamp your mouth with a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, so sweet that you wouldn't mind suffocating in the taste of her lips. You never wanted her to stop kissing you. She was all the oxygen you required. Her touches would be enough to keep you sustained for days. You feel yourself becoming drunk all over again, just off of Nesta. She definitely kissed better than any man you'd tasted before. Her lips were definitely softer although her kiss was on the more passionate side. Her kiss held the power of whatever she had stolen from the Cauldron. When she pulls away you're admittedly left delirious.
You're pleased to see that even Nesta's cheeks are radiantly pink as were her newly pointed fae ears. Even she trembled from the intensity of finally giving into her month's long desire. You desire to know how long she'd thought about doing that to you. Or was it simply a spur of the moment thing?
She touches her fingers to her lips, as if to replay the whole thing and reassure what had happened was real.
In seconds she has your lips captured once more, leaning into you with her lean body. She's like a wild cat now that she has grown more confident. You let her do what she wished with you. Falling into her grabby hands that held onto your hips and falling in love with the way she moaned against your mouth. You drank it up greedily and tentative bravery had you placing your own hands on her hips. She freezes but only for a millisecond before continuing with her experimental groping.
Mother above, Nesta's waist was so slim yet her ass was well worked and possessed plenty of muscle mass from her exertions with the rest of the valkyrie. You give it a good squeeze and nearly climax from the guttural sound that is ripped from the female above you. That was all you wanted to hear, morning, noon and night you wanted to hear more of Nesta's moans that were made because of YOU. Your hands scramble for the under curve of her ass cheeks and do the same but while also pressing her closer to you. Slightly she starts to grind against you making you go crazier for her contact. There was a morbid moment where you wanted her to take a bite of your flesh, to get as close to her as was possible.
It's you this time who breaks away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan. She takes this opportunity to rip the front of your dress, her new strength even startles her when it proved to be an easy task. With the action, she frees your tits and by instinct her mouth latches onto your breast. How was it that she made you feel like you were on fire? Like your very veins were melting and your blood as searing as lava. You wanted to combust and Nesta hadn't really touched the part of you that you wanted her to. Her lips make a trail of sharp kisses and nips from your breasts, down your torso until she reaches the extra tender skin of your pelvis. The hair from her immaculate bun is coming loose causing locks of her hair to come free and bounce around her face.
A bad decision on your part for daring to open your eyes and look at her face. No man had ever looked at you the way Nesta did. If she wanted to break you, you would absolutely let her. At that point you would let her do anything to you as long as she kept kissing you with that scorching gaze of her's.
And still she continued her journey further down.
You were a gaping idiot at that point when her nose nuzzles the base of your pubis.
At this Nesta frowns and you're worried that it's something to do with you when she professes "I've. . . never actually done this." That must have taken all of Nesta's courage to utter.
"M-Me neither. I. . . It's okay." You offer her the upward curve of your lips. You move a few of her hair strands away from her face so you could truly admire her. Her skin was smooth like cream and just as silky when your palm strokes her cheek.
Oh.
Your words were like a hammer to a piece of glass. Her face, you'd never seen her quite that naked in her emotions. You felt it from just that simple caress.
Nesta gathers control of herself once more but her smile is beautiful when she kisses the soft inside of your thigh.
Never had you been more grateful to regularly keeping yourself trimmed down there than in that moment. She dives in with her tongue, the eagerness makes you jolt but soon you melt back into your couch cushions. At first her licks are tentative with the tip of her tongue, but once she got a taste of you, you were a goner.
You squeal and arch your back off of the couch. The vibrations of her groans shake you to the core. Using the flat of her tongue she tongues broad laps with her wet muscle. You bit back any noise that would have come flying out. If it had slipped out it would have been absolutely obscene. The urge to buck your hips is a frantic one but Nesta has a controlling hand pressed down on your pelvis to prevent you from moving. You were stuck in her web and at her mercy. Had she really never been with a female before? From the way she was eating you out you found that hard to believe. Even the males who had gone down on you had never made you a sobbing mess in mere minutes. Yet that's where you were right now. Whimpering and crying out to Nesta especially when her lips find your clit and she begins to suckle at it. She took your small bead, rolling her tongue around it occasional before she started sucking again. Now she'd involved her fingers as they prod at your wet opening. Her finger sinks into you with ease.
Nesta is lost in her own little world. She's determined to fill all of her senses with you. To immerse hers hearing with the sound of your moans and the wet noises she made with her mouth on your cunt. All she wanted to touch was your hot skin under her. All she wanted to see was you keening against her every caress. Your lewd blush that spread from your chest and all the way to your face lets Nesta know that you're about ready to explode from her ministrations. Squirming thighs that suddenly seize and quake around her head has her licking and fingering you more furiously. She read each of your cues perfectly. If she sensed that you wanted her to speed up, she did so or if you wanted more intensity, she stuck another slim finger inside of you and started to pump them in and out. No male she'd taken to bed had ever orgasmed as pretty as you did.
Your undoing was a work of art as the coil inside of you had strung so tightly that it snapped. A cry rips from you as the pleasure Nesta gave you drags you down into the depths of your climax. She shows no sign of slowing down even as you're gripping onto her hair and pressing her face closer to your pussy, as if that was possible. A sick part of you wants her to suffocate as well, to be just as swept up in your ecstasy. You want this moment to be the beginning and end of everything. Selfishly you think you don't ever want her to give this to anyone else. Just for you.
You rock your hips back and forth, riding out the last spasms against Nesta's face. Finally, she slows her licks and slowly retracts herself from you. You let out a disappointed whine, half afraid that she would leave now.
Heavily panting, Nesta uses the back of her arm to wipe at her glistening face. You'd made quite the mess on her and you will yourself to feel any ounce of shame. Instead you feel a funny bit of pride. Especially when her striking eyes still haven't left your face.
Now you're grateful for the glass of water she had brought you earlier. From all of your screams and moans, your throat was parched and nothing sounds better than a cold glass of water.
Nesta seemed to be thinking the same thing because she grabbed it before you could even reach over to your coffee table. She takes a long gulp first before generously handing it over to you. You chuckle. Well, she did do a lot more work than you had. She deserved the first sip.
A comfortable quiet wraps the both of you up better than any blanket could. Questions buzz incessantly through your mind but the only one to be loudly expressed was "Did I taste good?"
Your partner burst out laughing. You didn't think it warranted that loud of a laugh but you smile regardless. Any time you were able to make Nesta laugh, whether intentional or not, was a win in your books. "Could you not tell?"
The heat still hasn't left your face when you nod your head. "I...It sounded like you did."
"You were delicious." Nesta tells you seriously this time that it's you whose laughing now. She stretches her body across you languidly.
However, you flip her so now she's the one on the bottom and you on top. She looks stunned for sure as she blinks up at you with owlish eyes. You grin before kissing her.
"Well now I gotta have a taste of you." Even though you were sobering up well, you had your newfound confidence egging you on. You wanted to be the one to taste and touch.
Nesta is hesitant to let you be the one in control but complies and adjusts under you so that the both of you could still be liplocked as Nesta assists you in removing her skirt. It was a tight pencil cut that really showed off her amazing figure. Her teeth nip lovingly at your lips, the nails on her fingers rake against your bare thighs. Her proud and beautiful face all your's now to admire. This was a new side of her that you were enjoying very much. Full lips possessing small bite marks from your own excited bites.
Diving your face to her exposed neck, you bit the vulnerable skin there and she thrusts her hips in an upward motion. You lick the juncture of her neck and jaw before biting down and suctioning a small circle of skin like she had down with your clit. There will be a mark when you were finished. Possibly several by the end of the night but this would be the first of many. You pull your head up to admire your work. A lovely purple and red circle was blooming onto her peaches and cream skin.
Your fingers toy with the edge of the blouse she wore. With coy (e/c) eyes, you look down at her. "Can I?"
She smirks and nods, keeping her attention centered on your fingers as they pop open the many front buttons. When you got to the swell of her tits, you gulp suddenly finding yourself nervous. Slowly they pop each one open to reveal her mauve lace bra that holds up her well endowed breasts. You squeeze your arm under Nesta so you could unhook the back of her bra with a quick pinch. Immediately, her brassiere loosens in the front to where you could finally remove it from her being. Your hands cup under her breasts to weigh them in her hands. She had the definition of abs on her torso as she flexes due to your touch. Was her mortal body as perfect as this one? Yes, most likely.
From her heated eyes, she delighted in your gaze revering her body like a temple. And as any fervent devotee you bow before her. You worship first her thighs as she had done with you. Already you can smell her want and desire from her core, she parts her legs for easier access. You couldn't inhale her essence enough. Now that you were up close and personal with her beautifully pink pussy, you ignore her annoyed hand trying to pull your face back into her. With the softest touch, you part her lower lips to examine the glistening folds. Petting the outer lips with a feather light stroke. The muscles in her thighs have small tremors running through them. Nearly sighing at the sight, you slide your finger between her creases and grin at how wet she was. You gather her slick with your finger and use it to make small, smooth circles over her clit. All of your movements were of the barest pressure which makes her furiously buck against you for more traction. Could you be blamed for wanting to take your time in memorizing her? You didn't know what tomorrow would be like, if regret would curdle when the both of you woke up. That was if Nesta was even going to sleep over. It could be a simple one night stand where neither of you talk about it ever again. For now you'd take extra care to remember what you could.
You give her lower lips the softest of kisses that has her writhing. Nesta's fingers find your (h/c) hair and twist your locks around them for any kind of support as you were sending her mind spiraling. Nesta's past lovers probably had not been as generous as you. From what she'd shared with you, most of her illicit relations were done when she was black out drunk and didn't remember much the next day. Pleasure wasn't something she was looking for, only something to numb her brain and make her forget. You'd make up for the foolishness of males before you. Make her acknowledge that there should be no one else but you when it came to pleasuring Nesta.
Surprising her when you finally delve your tongue inside of her, Nesta's cry has you getting wet between your legs all over again.
Cauldron help you. Was this how you'd tasted to her?
Nesta was absolutely divine in taste. How was it possible for anything to taste as sweet as Nesta? No cock you had ever sucked could compare to the flavors that assault your tongue as you tongue fuck her in between kitten licks and paying attention to the swelling bead above.
Her thighs bracket either sides of your face and she clamps down on you without mercy. That was alright with you. If you died between her legs, it would be the most honorable death you could think of. Your fingers still had her wet lips pulled apart so you could fully consume her.
Breathing became inconsequential. Your lightheadedness was a ramification that prohibited you from noticing the thighs squishing your head were a seizing mess as Nesta came quite quickly, much faster than you had when she was eating you out. You didn't notice the impercetible jerks of her body as her climax ebbed and subsided.
Only when her legs slacken off to the sides and she's pulling your face up do you see her bright red face, her panting chest that made her tits move up and down. With her hand still buried in your hair, she pulls you up her body and smashes her lips into your's. Your face is still a mess from your meal but it didn't seem of concern to Nesta as she's sticking her tongue inside of your mouth. She must have tasted herself on you. It would be impossible.
Deliriously you kiss her back, still trying to get oxygen back into your brain.
Your living room is filled with your combined panting and Nesta's.
Weakly, you lay your head on her chest and her hand on your hair softens as she begins to pet it back into place. "You came really fast."
Nesta chuckles, making your head bob as she did so. "I've had little patience for males lately. It's been a while."
For neither of you having been with a female before, you'd say it was a success.
With a content sigh, you nuzzle your face between her breasts. "Well I guess that's good for me."
"Good for us." Nesta corrects before pushing herself off and out from under you.
Disappointment has your heart dropping to your stomach. Oh, you suppose since she'd had her's, it was time for her to leave.
Sullenly you sit up, ignoring the state of your undress to watch her.
Instead of putting her clothes back on and heading to the front door, she's making her leisurely way to your bedroom and casts a glance over her shoulder. "It's late. Lets go to bed." Nesta's face is uncharacteristically soft as she beckons you to follow her.
You couldn't move fast enough off the couch.
90 notes · View notes
lucienarcheron · 2 months
Text
HOFAS Thoughts and Review!
This is also my review on Goodreads. Naturally, this is full of spoilers so proceed with caution!
4 star read!
This was a wild ride from start to finish. I found that you jumped right into the action and it literally didn't stop. The crossover with ACOTAR was very info-dump but I didn't mind since a) I don't remember anything lol and b) we needed to make the connection. I really loved seeing Nesta and Azriel in this different element. Given the timeline between ACOSF and HOFAS being about 3 months, I loved that Azriel and Nesta now know how to fight together and Nesta is so in touch with her powers. I love seeing how their friendship has bloomed.
Bryce is a menace and will forever be one. She's one of Sarah's MCs I relate to the least and therefore needed to warm up to her more. I found that in this book, I could despite a lot of her arrogant moments that will rub people the wrong way. I love Quinlar's love but didn't appreciate that she minimized Hunt's reaction to basically reliving much of his trauma with the first war. I'm glad she apologized and got to the point of understanding him but it left a little meh of a taste. The ending scene where he goes after her had my heart in pieces!! Through love, all is indeed possible and I love they were always with each other through it all.
Bryce basically being the High Lady of Dusk and controlling the land was amazing! I loved seeing those scenes. Saitha being the one to kneel first, declaring her as queen? Loved that. The two fae kings dying an awful death? Fabulously done! Hunt mf Althar removing his own slave halo and then removing Isaiah's while calling out that governor lady on her shit??? ADORE! Jesiba's everything in this book? I salute you, queen! Sabine's death??? The Under-King's death??? Literally had me gasping so much.
Ruhn my love, you will always be the Crown Prince of the Fae and that soundbite will always be on repeat every time I see your name lol.
Ruhn x Lidia's romance fell very flat to me. I love Ruhn and hated everything he had to go through but Lidia's character felt out of left field for me. I expected better/different? We find out out of NOWHERE that she's a mom of twins and suddenly, that's her whole personality. She went from this badass agent to everything being about her kids. There is NOTHING WRONG with her being a mother but why couldn't she be a mother AND care about the cause because it's the right thing to do? This was a missed opportunity in my opinion. I also felt like this was very self-insert of Sarah being a mom to have to include another character having kids. The constant talk about all these traumatized idiots having babies is getting on my last fucken nerves tbh. They have a million years to live so can we, I don't know, let them LIVE for five seconds without the absolute need to "start a family"? Let them go to therapy damn it. Sarah constantly writes about how awful it is that fae are obsessed with breeding and whatnot, yet every single of one her characters talks about babies...pls sarah, I beg. Give me ONE otp that doesn't have children. I know she's a HEA author which is what I love about her and her romances but it doesn't always have to end with kids and I just wish we'd see that more. Ruhn and Lidia did not strike me as characters who would be parents at all but now, Ruhn is a stepdad to the Hind's secret twins? It's very weird to me but I hope maybe down the line, we get to see Lidia realize that she is a whole person outside of being a mom. Aside from all that, the rescue scene was amazing. I loved seeing her destroy that asshole she had to endure and I just want to say, Aelin would be cheering mad hard at her for it! It felt like Lidia's fire abilities, the stag relation, and her son's name were all a nod to TOG and I loved that.
As for all the other characters, I really enjoyed seeing Ithan come into his own even though my guy was making mad stupid decisions along the way. His moment with Connor will always have my heart! l also loved the little bits of Ithan and Perry so much! Tharion my love, you will always be famous for making the most desperately dumb decisions before passing that one brain cell you have to Ithan but you know what? Sathia is going to be great for him and I ship it with my whole chest. Ari was wasted in this book and her ungrateful attitude annoyed me. Sigrid's whole plotline was pointless. Declan and Flynn are the best buds and I love them so much. Baxian, you are a gem! Pax being the one responsible for the actual HOFAS while being a healer who is making those antidotes was a great twist and I love it for her. The little fire spirits were so cute and their little moment with the viper queen made me cackle. The Viper Queen can suck it but I am also so very curious about what will happen now considering how that scene ends with Tharion/Ari/Sathia/Colin. I have a feeling all these characters will be showing up again in the future and I'd be excited to read how that will go. I have a feeling it might be done ACOSF style - in that, it'll be standalone in the CC world.
Bonus Chapters:
Bryce, Azriel, Nesta - hilarious and also so cute how Nesta was fascinated by the music playing from Bryce's phone. Azriel doesn't have a mate or partner so let that be clear LOL. Also Nesta already thinking about babies makes me wanna die tbh.
RuhnLidia - It was cute that she proposed and Ruhn is such a little dork crying left and right hahaha.
Quinlar - Hilarious how the big strong thunder boy was scared of those little dolls HAHA.
Ember/Randall - This made me want the Archeron sisters to have a mother figure so badly! The moment with Nesta and Ember hugging was so sweet in the book. I know people are mad at Rhys for yelling at Nesta but y'all...the whole world was at stake and that was a scary decision to make on Nesta's part given how the Pyrthian is STILL traumatized by the Asterie. I don't love how much he yelled but I get it.
Despite having parts I didn't like, I did overall really have fun with this. I think Sarah always does a great job with the action scenes in the end and giving us that found family connection. I could do without having the whole girl boss/girl power white feminist nonsense constantly shoved in our faces but alas! As I said, I still really enjoyed it! It had a lot of moments that pulled on all my emotions as every SJM book does. I will always enjoy what she puts out because I take it all at face value and read it to have fun. Sarah always knows how to enjoy her writing and you can tell while reading and for me, that's more than enough. The lore/plot is secondary to the characters for me and that is always how she sucks me in. She writes compelling characters who have amazing adventures and friendships that you feel through the pages and I will always enjoy that. Can't wait for more books! Here's to hoping we hear something about ACOTAR soon especially now that Bryce gave both swords back to Nesta! Can't wait to see how it plays out!
20 notes · View notes
youngsamanda · 1 month
Text
happy valentines day i'm spending it working and with a dog so here's a bunch of primarily shippy based things that i want to do ! please keep in mind that i'm twenty3 so be over eighteen if you are giving this post a like ! i primarily write on discord but am technically flexible when it comes to that i'll also mess around on tumblr sideblogs or my inactive indie still ! if you are interested please like this or dm me and we can get something going !
plots : gay cowboys / a better version of that whack netflix movie purple hearts where two people who don't really like each other decide to get married for the benefits and it's a whole fake marriage slowburn thing / gimme real old gay vampires that are just messy and awful for each other but keep falling back together / literally on my knees begging for any kind of beauty and the beast plot / a big slasher multimuse / frat boy x friends sister / literally the plot of ez and emily from mayans mc but with a happier ending hopefully / oops baby plots for the angst / friends when they are younger in the like 90s then playing older casted versions of them in modern day / literally just scooby doo / teen wolf x vampire diaries older and recasted mumu i don't know please indulge me / friends to lovers but it literally takes forever like one of those bitches gets married before they get together / mermaid x pirate romance / not actually the characters but the vibes of red white and royal blue gay royals and all that / just want random period pieces like characters in the 70s or something / rich girl x country boy / proper enemies to lovers / the bitches from the mummy / mob lackey and mob boss daughter / something based on beth x rip from yellowstone / literally just a drama college friend group bc it's fun
wanted ships : gale x dewey / older percy x annabeth / charlie gillespie x olivia holt / rachel zegler x tom blythe / emma d'arcy x ryan corr / seth x kate fdtd / buffy x spike / tara x jax / anakin x padme / rhys x feyre / nesta x cassian / cole x isabel from the shiver books but older / mason gooding x jenna ortega / sean teale x adelaide kane / haymitch x effie / kiana madeira x olivia scott welch / mike x emily from until dawn / danielle galligan x calahan skogman / kaz x inej / azriel x gwyn / peter x gwen but not the tom holland one / steve x nancy / keyleth x vax / bloom x sky / musa x riven / fka twigs x bill skarsgaard / jacob elordi x alexa demie / taylor zakhar perez x madelyn cline / rami malek x charlie hunnam / mackenzie davis x gugu mbatha raw / harley x ivy / maya erskine x donald glover / elena x nate uncharted / lois x clark / gendry x arya / hayley x nathan from oth / emma x sean but older from degrassi / karen x frank / crystal reed x daniel sharman but in a period piece / blair redford x jamie chung / lorna dane x alex summers / mickey x ian but recasted
wanted opposites : nick robinson / archie renaux / emilio sakraya / jena malone / ryan graves / adrian kempe / sza / lily gladstone / yahya abdul mateen ii / alperen duymaz / drew starkey / fka twigs / aubrey plaza / peter gadiot / renee rapp / paul mescal / havana liu rose / milo manheim / taylor zakhar perez / riley keogh / anna diop / melissa barrera / ben barnes / ayo edibiri / fabien frankel / dev patel / oliver jackson cohen / danny ramirez / aubin wise / cillian murphy / amber midthunder / daniel sharman / auli'l cravalho / logan lerman / phoebe tonkin / rege jean page / winona ryder / dua lipa / elodie yung / joseph quinn / simone ashley / camila mendes / jensen ackles / henry golding / blu hunt / aaron taylor johnson / calum hood / gabriel luna
4 notes · View notes
ofduskanddreams · 8 months
Note
🧙‍♂️🪄✨✨✨ You’ve been visited by the Wip Wizard! If you feel comfortable, gush a little about the three wips you’re most excited to work on! Then send this to another inbox to keep the magic going!
Oh boy. Y’all know I live with the daily struggle of too many ideas, not enough time. This is the second WiP wizard visit I’ve received but I haven’t had a chance to answer that yet either so, here’s the deal.
First, I’ll discuss three WiPs that have already been published to some extent and then I’ll explain three other ideas, published and unpublished. If a fic is published, there will be a link in the title.
✦ Fics that I hope to finish within the year ✦
1. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧.
(Azriel is the MC, the fic is poly.) This is my CC crossover omegaverse fic. I binge wrote the first 40k words in like 3 weeks and then started posting only life got too hectic and I hit a creative block. Getting back to it is first on my to-do list once I finish this drabble series. It’s currently 7 chapters and will likely end at 12ish. I love this fic because it’s a great time getting to explore Azriel’s relationships with his pack and a not-so-typical take on A/B/O dynamics.
2. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬.
(Azris) This is a modern/hockey AU. It’s legendary player Eris approaching the end of his career and up and coming star Azriel. They become rivals Az’s rookie year… only Azriel gets traded to Eris’s team his second season in the league. I call this fic “grumpy x grumpier” and it’s true—that’s also why I love it SO MUCH. And this story contains Eris with chronic pain, like me lol, so it’s very close to my heart in that sense as well.
3. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.
(Gwynriel) Modern AU. Professor Gwyneth Berdara and former FBI analyst, now private sector exec, Azriel Cantor. For a while I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to finish this one because some things happened that turned me off of Gwynriel for a while, but I’m happy to say that the ship is starting to feel safe for me again and this fic will be returning in the early winter :) the vibes in this fic might be my favorite thing, it’s very dark academia 🖤
✦ Other WiPs ✦
1. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞.
(Elucien) A marriage of convenience Regency AU that I wrote the prologue for last July. I literally never stop thinking about this one lmao. Regency Elucien is just one of my absolute favorite things.
2. 𝐍𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐤𝐲, 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞
Part 1 of this fic is already published and, similarly to the previous one, it’s basically a prologue to a greater story. This fic is going to be a behemoth you guys, it’s pre-canon and I have so many things I want to do, so many plot points that are going to weave the most delicious and dramatic tapestry. For that reason it’s also very intimidating and I’m not currently in a place to tackle that kind of project so it will marinate in my head for the time being.
3. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲
(Azris) This is Head Boy and Slytherin Eris x Ravenclaw prefect Azriel. This idea has been living in my skull like a little demon for an entire year and I hope to exorcise it before 2023 is over, maybe for a certain character’s week but life is too bust to say with any certainty.
10 notes · View notes
stormhearty · 1 month
Note
we need more manhwa inspired acotar fics!!
i would really like to see a vanserra!reader who's just like roxana agriche, teaming up w eris to betray beron (that pathetic excuse of a father lived long enough lol)
or an azriel x reader fic inspired by how to get my husband on my side 🥹 protective husband azzie for the win
i have so many ideas and i actually enjoy writing, but i'm too shy to share them here 😭
I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU??? ROXANA?? I LOVE THAT MANHWA!! SHE'S SUCH A BAD BITCH. OH THAT'S SUCH AN INSPIRATION! THAT HAS TO BE A SERIES, IT WOULD BE SO GOOD. And I do not mind me if I make Eris like Deon? I love Deon. Period.
And How to get my husband on my side is so... is sad and cute?? The MC's brother?? Oh god such inspirations for ACOTAR
AND PLEASE WRITE IT IF YOU WANT TO I WOULD LOVE TO READ IT? But if these are request, I am so willing to write them.
3 notes · View notes
enamoured-x · 2 years
Text
The love triangle has always been Elain x Azriel x Lucien. Pls remember that… Elain will be choosing, not the men. There is no one else in this triangle, sorry but gw*n and Az never even showed the slightest hint of attraction towards one another therefore she is not a part of this situation. Elain is the mc, she will be deciding. Azriel’s only love interest rn is Elain… that’s literally canon when we see his pov. Elain may have two love interests technically but to Elain she only has one, the one she wants…
80 notes · View notes
arachnestardust · 5 months
Text
A Court of Song and Shadow: Chapter Nineteen
I know it took me very long to update the story and this chapter isn't even very good or has a lot happening- I'm disappointed in myself too- but I figured it was better to post the damn thing and move on to the next chapter than keep trying to squeeze water from stone
PLS FEEDBACK
Chapter Length: 2,402 Words.
(Approximate) Reading Time: 10 min
Pairing: (Eventual) Azriel x Reader; (budding) Azriel & Mc/Starlight friendship, general inner circle friendships.
Warnings: canon typical stuff, mentions of PTSD (you know, when Elain was catatonic) Nesta being nasty (aaaayy).
Tumblr media
Two days later, Feyre worriedly paced the Townhouse’s foyer like a trapped tiger.
“It’s going to be fine.” I tried to reassure my best friend, grabbing her hands to still her in her path.
“I know. I know. But we still haven’t told Nesta yet. She’s going to be furious with me.” Feyre worried, her hands gripping mine like a vice.
“That… she will; I can’t lie to you. But this will be good, this might help.”
Feyre bit her lip, slowly bouncing on the balls of her feet since I was keeping her from moving; up and down, up and down, her hands flexing in mine in time with the movement.
She did so about a dozen times before we heard the front door open, three fae males walking through, first Azriel and then Cassian, with a familiar red-headed male walking in between them, blindfolded.
As soon as the door was closed, Azriel moved to remove Lucien’s blindfold, the Illyrian’s shadows racing to cover any window that might allow the Autumnal male to catch a glimpse of the city beyond.
Lucien briefly squinted against the lights, but his features quickly turned stony when his gaze found Feyre standing before him.
“High Lady.” Lucien spoke, his tone a mockery of the polite way he’d first spoken to me with in Hewn, though the male’s features turned a just a little bit friendlier when he turned my way only a moment later. “Little Kit.”
“Hi, Lucien.” I whispered in response, glad to see him well with all that had been going on in Prythian, but particularly in Spring.
Feyre, in direct contrast to me, didn’t deign to greet her sister’s mate, choosing to stare him down instead.
Lucien raised an unimpressed brow to the High Lady of Night, proceeding to roll his eyes. “You’ll make a wonderful diplomat, I can already tell.”
I shuffled in place as twin growls rang out from the Illyrian males behind Lucien, Azriel’s particularly loud.
“Well?” Lucien taunted, his body posture completely radiating sass. “I don’t suppose you’ve brought me here to stare at me all day.”
Feyre breathed, in and out, seemingly trying to compose herself. “We will take you to see Elain; with conditions, as you are aware.”
“Yes, High Lady, you and your mate made it very clear that there would be conditions to this meeting; I don’t forget things after only a few days, like some people seem capable of.”
Another warning growl, but Feyre chose to ignore the slight against her.
“You won’t talk to Elain about the war, you won’t talk to her about the mating bond, you won’t talk to her about Hybern- actually, you will introduce yourself to her, that is all you’ll do; and you’ll only do that if my sister Nesta doesn’t kill all of us first for daring to allow you within 5 kilometres of Elain.”
Lucien scoffed. “Am I allowed to look at my mate?”
“If I could somehow make the answer to that question a ‘no’, I would.” Feyre answered him coldly.
Tumblr media
I bounced nervously on my feet as I waited for either Azriel or Cassian to come pick me up after they’d left to take Feyre and Lucien up to the House of Wind,
I hoped that the four of them didn’t kill each other in the small time we’d all be separated.
Twirling Umbra around in my wrist, I managed not to jump when Azriel suddenly landed heavily a few meters in front of me.
Azriel extended a hand in my direction and I walked towards him wordlessly, taking his hand firmly and the Spymaster wasted no time by pulling me into his arms and shooting to the sky, apparently as keen to get to the House of Wind as I was.
The flight up to the House of Wind was fast- even faster than Azriel normally flied, and the landing was quick and smooth, but as soon as the Illyrian’s feet touched the balcony floor, we could hear voices coming from inside.
Nesta.
“If you bring that- that Faerie anywhere near her, I’ll-” Nesta’s voice rang out before it was cut off.
“You’ll what?” Cassian crooned in that cruel tone that he seemed to reserve only for Nesta. “You won’t join us for practice, so you sure as Hel aren’t going to be able to hold your own in a fight. You won’t talk about your powers, so-”
After exchanging a look with Azriel- mine worried and his carefully blank- I rushed towards the double doors of the balcony, slamming them open with enough strength that I was surprised the glass windows of the doors didn’t shatter under my handling.
“Cassian!” My voice came out in a harsh growl, more Fae than the human I normally thought of myself as, and suddenly, all eyes in the room were on me, most surprised that I used that tone that none of them had ever heard from me before.
Everyone but Cassian, who looked a little hurt at the way I’d spoken to him.
I didn’t care.
From the moment they’d met, Cassian had poked at Nesta, but it had become worse after the Incident and I’d done nothing about it; I’d done nothing to help this woman who was angry and scared and impotent in a world she’d been forced into, so different from her youngest sister and I, who’d willingly joined this fight we were now all fighting.
I’d defended Lucien; I’d come here today, despite my dislike of confrontation, to defend him and I’d willingly not done the same for Nesta because I was uncomfortable around her and Elain.
Why had I not done the same for Nesta and Elain, seeing as they too, were alone here in the Night Court, with little care or attention from the rest of the Inner Circle, who were more occupied with the War efforts?
I’d visited them often, yes, but never interacted, never spoke to them, only choosing to exist in the same space as the two of them.
Had I truly been so self-centred?
Enough was enough, from all of us.
“I don’t need you to defend me, Starlight.” Nesta spoke, her last word coming out as a mocking drawl, her eyes rolling, as if the fact that I’d gotten close enough to the Inner Circle to have received a nickname was a betrayal on my part.
Instantly the atmosphere of the room became even more charged, most eyes focusing on Nesta as multiple growls rang out through the room, most surprisingly from Mor, who, until now, stood alone and silent in one of the room’s corners, taking in the chaotic scene that we made, having chosen not to interfere in the argument with Nesta.
“You will not speak to a member of my court like that, Nesta Archeron; they’ve offered you nothing but kindness and you will repay them in kind.” Rhys’ voice came out low and dangerous, intimidating enough that Nesta seemed unsure of herself for a second.
I took in a deep breath, centering myself as to not allow for Nesta’s words to affect me, to push against the heightened emotions of the people around me that were pounding against my shields, screaming and demanding to be felt.
“Nesta.” I started, taking a step towards the eldest of the Archeron sisters and immediately bumping into a muscled, outstretched arm, blocking my path.
Azriel was holding me back, as if Nesta would hurt me by just being too close. I looked at the male curiously and he slowly lowered his arm, allowing me forward after hesitating.
I fought to speak as my cheeks heated when I realised all eyes were on me again.
“Nesta…” I tried again, searching my words carefully with the heavy weight of so many gazes on me. “Elain’s not okay. You know it… And Lucien’s- Lucien’s probably our best shot at helping her right now.”
“Except he isn’t.” Nesta crossed her arms, a fiery glare settling in her silver-blue eyes. “Those two can read minds,” She gestured to Feyre and Rhysand with her chin. “And you can feel what other people feel; I’m not stupid or deaf, you know, I hear your conversations, I know you’re learning to use your… magic.’’ She said the last word with something akin to disgust. ‘‘So I don’t see how he is our best option in this situation.”
“Using our Daemati gifts on Elain without having any idea what’s going on inside her head might hurt her more, Nesta; whatever little progress she’s made could be undone.” Feyre told her gently, trying to appease her oldest sister.
“And you?” Nesta whirled towards me, a snarl on her face that had Umbra tightening around my wrist and Mor stepping towards us, prepared to pull me away from the angry woman if needed.
“I’m not very well trained with the Daeseele magic… if whatever Elain is feeling is as all-encompassing as we think it is, I could get stuck in her emotions and end up feeding into them.” (Author’s note: yay for a concept that I fricking forgot to introduce in previous chapters… (×-×) At least re-writes are possible; this story is gonna need a revamp when it’s done, god bless.)
“And your teacher? Why can’t he try it then?” Nesta looked to Feyre and Rhys with a calculating look. “I know you have the money to pay him; why don’t you?”
Raising my hand in calming gesture, I advanced towards Nesta, even as Azriel tried to hold me back, as Rhys sent me a warning look. “He can’t, Nesta. He doesn’t have the gift like I do, his mother did and his daughter does, so he’s knowledgeable about it, knows how to help me.”
Nesta didn’t turn in my direction, her gaze still fixed on Rhys, who she probably viewed as the biggest threat in the room. “And his daughter?”
“She’s a child, we can’t ask a child to delve into whatever Elain’s feeling.” I told her slowly, willing he to understand the situation and how delicate it was.
Nesta seemed to deflate a bit as her last ditch attempt to keep Lucien from Elain failed her, but it took only a moment for her shoulders to square again, her gaze determined as she finally turned back to me. “He can see her, but if he can’t help her, I want you to try.”
“Okay,” I quickly agreed as the people around me started to protest. “I promise I’ll try to help her, if Lucien can’t.”
I heard Rhys curse, but didn’t move my gaze away from Nesta’s, her eyes seeming to glow silver as magic stirred around us with the scents of roses, jasmines, lilacs, milkweed; the smell of magic.
I blinked rapidly, feeling as if coming down from a dream when I finally broke my gaze from Nesta, flinching in surprise when, upon looking down, I found tattoos of shimmering, silver flames running from my fingers up to my elbow, as if they were eating away at my flesh.
I looked towards Nesta, confused for just a moment, and found the tattoo mirrored on her right arm.
“What is this?” Nesta demanded, irate.
I examined the tattoos spanning most of my right arm, too focused on the way the silver lines shimmered in the light to answer her question.
This wasn’t how the tattoos usually manifested in the Night Court, to my knowledge.
“It’s a Night Court custom for bargains to become permanently marked upon one’s flesh.” Cass explained, his voice sounding choked.
“How do I make it go away?” Nesta demanded, her voice full of venom.
“It might vanish once your bargain has been fulfilled.” Rhys told the irate faerie coldly.
I looked up, seeing the High Lord’s displeased face.
“Might?” Nesta growled.
Rhys simply shrugged, maybe having recovered from the shock already, or just pretending very well that he was.
“Well.” Lucien finally cut in, sounding decidedly uncomfortable. “We should move on from this, yes? I don’t have a lot of time to spend here.”
As one we seemed to remember the time limit we were all on; Lucien couldn’t stay for long, he had to go back to Spring sometimes soon, seeing as the excuse of going out for a hunt wouldn’t be plausible for more than a couple of hours.
The people around me started towards the stairs, everyone but Nesta herself, who stood as still as a statue in the middle of the room, watching me as I watched her, knowing we had to talk, to at least create some middle ground.
Before starting up the stairs, Feyre hesitated, looking back at me.
I nodded at her, attempting a smile, telling her with my eyes that I was going to stay behind and talk to Nesta.
Once we were finally alone, Nesta advanced towards me, a woman on a mission.
“I don’t need your pity or you help to fight my battles.” The eldest Archeron sister spat out at me, her face like a tempest.
I chuckled nervously, trying to find the right words to appease her. “I know. You’re the scariest person I know… but… we’ve all been through a lot and Cassian was being a jerk… he’s been a jerk to you since we’ve all met and I didn’t do anything; I’ve been a bad friend.”
“We’re not friends; just because I helped you once doesn’t make us friends, I was paying a debt.” Nesta rolled her eyes.
“No, no we’re not friends.” I quiesced. “But what Cassian’s been doing isn’t right and I could- no, should have- said something before, it was a matter of being a decent person.”
Nesta’s eye gained a calculating gleam. “Yes, you should have; you all could have. What’s changed?”
I shrugged, looking away from her. “I guess I just realised it and decided to act on it. Just because we aren’t friends doesn’t mean it’s right for Cass to treat you like he’s been, and it’s not right for all of us to just look on and allow it to happen. None of us should have allowed it and Cassian should have seen he’d been taking in too far.’’
Nesta gave me a terse nod before turning and power-walking towards the stairs. ‘‘Let’s go; I don’t trust that faerie,’’ Nesta spat out the word. ‘‘Around my sister.’’
With a deep breath, I followed her up the stairs.
81 notes · View notes
yykh22 · 2 months
Text
Developping characters
TW: If you like ACOTAR and are not an anti-fan,pls don't read nor comment meaningless hate.
There is a lot of war ships with characters that I will admit feel empty and devoid of character.(Looking at you Azriel/Cassian/anyone else ig) And don't start believing I hate these characters,it's more like I'm disappointed in them and their enormous potential which go wasted with excessive s*x scenes (ngl). I wouldn't mind lots of s*x , if the characters actually had more than toxic chemistry but anyway that is like only a portion of the post...
First, let's adress the female characters, who, by the way, got placed solely for the main male characters. I'm gonna start with Feyre,who is technically our MC, she had potential in the first book and when she wasn't whipped for Rhysand...But it got horrible after that.(I'm not gonna include many example but there is this: When her and the others are discussing Velaris and she points out how unfair it is for the other courts...etc.) Feyre would have had a great arc,if she had actually gained the love of "her" court but instead, Rhysand, gave it to her on a silver plate...Which annoys me greatly. Her character got thrown out to uplift a male "love" interest? Bad and so annoying.
I really feel like writing a fic where she realises how horribly she is treated and leaves, only to return and actually help the Night Court in its entirety. BTW, she stays single and only cares for her court and her kid. I'm not going to dwell that much on it.
Nesta, sweet Nesta with SO much potential that was just there but it all got thrown out to fit a angry-immature bastard. There is so many things wrong with their relationship that abusive doesn't even cover half of it. Plus, her development is only partially good because, compared to Feyre, she actually got decent friends.(It's like the only good part of ACOSF in terms of relationship.) Honestly, one of her greatest asset as a character is that she could have been a wonderful courtier , if she absolutely had to work for the IC. But yk what I would really like? Nesta living a comfortable life, reading books and gossiping with her friends. To make this realistic and make her earn money normally, she could work in a library and devour more books all day. I mean she has the looks, the emotional calm and patience to deal with people. An another wasted aspect is her magic. What's wrong with powerful female characters with no love interest, who doesn't sacrifice their power? It's not like she absolutely has to use it anyway.(Not gonna elaborate,since my idea is pretty vague.) That's all I'm gonna say for Nesta. :(
Elain,who was more of a side character for all the series, still has potential but I feel it is gonna be wasted if she goes with like Azriel but it could work with Lucien, since he has a more fleshed out character.(No hate to Elriel but pls, Azriel is a bland character and honestly also had great potential.) Personally, I would have liked it if Elain ended up with an another side character who didn't have much "screen" time like Gwyn or even Mor at this point. But again, that is a preference!
SideNote: I have more to say about the Archeron sisters but I'm lazy and might make a post about each of them indivually.
Now for the bland ass male character! Yay!(this is sarcastic btw)
Rhysand, NO, I don't want to talk about him.
Cassian, a 500 years old, had a some potential that got wasted for a typical trashy toxic and abusive romance. Honestly, I'm curious why SMJ didn't write him like a sort of Eris and Lucien combine? Like he has the talent of a cunning general but the heart of gentleman with more lawfully good morals. (Is my idea clear?) Like he keeps his energic and liking to battle but isn't an abusive ass? He would have had more chemistry with Nesta that way, like being smart and kindly energetic which matches Nesta's smart but coldly affectionate demeanor. (I'm simplifying their character really bad rn) Anyway, that's all for him,while I do have ideas for how their relationship could have evolved, I'm not gonna post them here.
Azriel, I'm gonna go full rant mode, was one of the main side characters with the most wasted potential and bland character. He basically has no personality beside a weird obsession with "righteous" females? Though I am glad he had enough decency with the Archerons (exclude Elain.) but even then, that is a terrifying low bar for a male character. Plus, it's not like SMJ didn't write about his personality, it's more she never "proved" his personality. Like, you want me to believe he's cunning but make him duel a potential ally only for a woman? Nah, no way. An another wasted aspect is his abilities influencing the narrative? Like I get he's not a main-main character but he could still have more influence,since he is like the spymaster. Just like how Cassian could have more influence, since he is the general? But obviously, all that potential thrown out to write about s*x and more s*x.
(Side note: Since the serie is still not finished, there may be a chance Azriel gets slightly better.)
Overall, I think and have a strong opinion that SMJ wasted a good storyline with bland characters with wasted potential, while promoting toxic relationships and romanticising trauma and abuse.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
3 notes · View notes