#cazriel x mating bond

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 8

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: Azriel and Cassian fight to rescue you from Beron's lair.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Violence, torture, blood

<<&lt; Part 7 | Part 9 >>>

Cassian revelled in the warmth of the guards blood on his hands.

Never before had he considered the sensation a pleasant one - he was always focused on the next kill, defeating the enemies that followed, winning the war. But killing his way through Beron’s guards to find you? It released some sort of primal desire, as if it pleased the Gods. 

He was snarling as he plowed his way through, unnatural strength driving his bare fist straight through chests, hearts ripped from their cavities. 

He could hear Azriel’s growls amongst the clang of swords meeting, of armour being punctured and thuds of bodies dropping, one by one. Azriel’s urges matched his own, melding together, stronger as one entity instead of two. The males weren’t High Lords, but this was their beast form. They would slaughter their way to you, pile the bodies as high as any beast to get to their mate.

It was unfair really, for Beron to have convinced his guards they stood a chance, even without knowing of the innate itch to kill irked by the bond. After a short fight, Cassian and Azriel - now dripping with sweat and blood - cornered the last of the guards, prowling with lethal rage. 

“P-please, it was B-Beron, he ordered us to-"

If the male hadn't died from the blow as his head hit stone, Cassian was sure to choke the last of his breaths with a lethal grip at his neck, holding him up against the wall as the rest of his body slagged with lifeless form.

Bursting through another door, Cassian and Azriel flew down the winding staircase at a godly speed. No longer were your panicked calls concealed under layers of ground and iron – your shrill cries suddenly so loud they pierced your mate’s minds, hands flying to their ears in hopes to shield them. 

You were here, they had found you.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a long corridor of cells beheld them, the bond pulling them towards a cell they could not yet see. 

Wait! Your voice rang in their ears, laced with distress that fuelled their wild hearts. Wait! If he knows you are hear, he’ll kill me. Don’t-

Beyond words, Azriel sent a wave of reassurance down the bond, as he concealed himself and Cassian in shadows, sending some sprawling on the ground, racing ahead to find you with lethal stealth.

Silently, they moved further into the dungeon, stopping briefly to observe a weeping women in her own cell, bright auburn hair cast down her back as she wept into her arms. Serafina seemed unharmed for the most part, and Cassian sent a mental image to Rhys, ensuring Hellion his mate was here and alive. 

As Cassian and Azriel reached the end of the winding row of cells, they halted at the sight before them. A frightening cold seized their muscles, and hands raised to shield their eyes at the blinding silver light flickering from your cell. 

There you were, bound to a slab, sword pierced at your heart.

Veins pulsed against muscles, their fists shaking with adrenaline as they stalked closer for the kill. Beron was speaking, but neither of them could hear past the roar in their ears.

Before they could charge to tear down those iron gates and free you, Beron’s hands were at the hilt of the sword, and then he was pushing, severing the bond yet again. 

————

You know they were here – from the way your heart swelled and the bond ignited, a frayed rope pulling tight after being left slack for so long. But it was an instinct you could not let on with Beron so close – your only hope was that they heard you warning. 

Beron had grown dangerously impatient, not knowing the bond would fight back.

“This is taking too long, Y/N,” he roared, pacing as he ran shaking hands down his face, sweat sliding down his neck. “You will give me what I want!”

“F-fuck you,” you managed to cough out, chest heaving with short breaths as you tried not to deepen your wound with the sword at your chest. 

Beron snarled as he stepped towards you. “Give up Y/N. Give in.”

You didn't have a chance to bark a warning to your mates as Beron forced the rapier further into your heart. 

————

Azriel and Cassian fell to the ground – that slicing, searing pain sending them slack, unable to breath as they grabbed at their chests. 

Blood and spit passed through clenched teeth as it took all they had not to make any noise, to join you in the one freedom of screaming in pain. But they had to stay silent, to stay hidden. For you, they would embrace agony. 

————

It was an odd clarity, to smell your mates in that moment. 

They were closer now, only a few paces from your cell. You had to endure this next insertion, to give them a fighting chance. So you clenched your teeth, your cry of pain turning to a furious growl as you called for your heart to resist and fight and survive. 

Beron was thrown back at a sudden wave of magic pushed from your chest, the bond forcing the weapon clean from your heart entirely. It almost killed you, that pain, and you heaved against your restraints as Beron’s back smashed into the iron gates of your cell, weapon clanking to the ground. 

Beron pulled blood-stained fingers from the back of his head, eyes raising to you in murderous rage. “You bitch! How dare-"

Beron’s words were clipped, his eyes suddenly turning wide. He tried again – to speak, to breath, chocking against an invisible threat. Vision reeling as you danced with death, you had missed the shadow that had seeped past the gates, snaking through Beron’s nose and cutting off his air supply. 

Scarred hands snatched through the gates then, one around Beron’s neck, the other around his abdomen, forcing his against the cell door as he choked. 

Your cry of relief was a stangled, raspy thing. Cassian - twined in red, pulsing magic - ripped open the door to your cell, the warmth of his hands a sensation you would never forget. 

“Cass-" you strained, tears pouring as you cried weakly. 

“My girl, my girl,” he cooed as he caressed your head, panicked by the blood spilling from your chest as trembling hands moved to press at your wound. 

With Cassian’s large form in front, you only saw the outskirts of a blinding flash of silver that threw him from you, crashing him into the wall with a groan. 

Beron stood before you, eyes glowing with other-worldly light, laps of silver death consuming him. 

In an instant winnow, Azriel was beside Beron, Truthteller swishing fiercely, aimed directly for his neck.

Another pulse of silver, and Azriel was thrown against the opposite wall.

Beron was panting, fingers twitching and silver coursed at his frame. He had given in entirely, his sanity, his very soul lost to that power. He had become death itself. 

As if like called to like, the sword flew from the ground to find home in his hand. 

Beron’s growl was a deep, demonic thing. “I suppose I’ll kill all three of you now.” 

Azriel still lay on the ground, wings sprawled from his back, and Beron raised that awful sword, knowing exactly where to strike. 

It was a honing, almost peaceful moment to know you would do anything to stop from Beron harming your mate’s wings. It was as if the Mother spoke to you directly, welcoming you to her pool of magic, letting you drink generously as she raised the cup to your lips. 

You took what you needed, using her strength, your eyes alight with brilliant yellow. Your magic, untrained and undefined, blasted through the entire cell, igniting the room with a brilliant zap. 

All three males yelped with pain, metal surfaces now alive as your current zapped and moved between then. 

Your magic, powerful and brilliant, caused Beron to jolt still. He turned with an eery slowness - and instead stalked towards you, marking his next kill and leaving Azriel weak on the ground. 

Good, this was good. The innate selflessness to ensure Azriel's safety was instinct, and you would die with content knowing you had done all in your power. In these final moments, as death prowled closer, you understood you would die for your mates, just as they would for you.

But there was more hope to be found in that cell than you realised – because your magic thrummed with life, a gift from the Mother herself. And as your surroundings continued to zap and dance with your power – Beron was ignorant to how it weakened him, raising slow, shaky arms to land the sword at your neck. 

Azriel and Cassian were on Beron before he could have hoped to make the blow. There was a flurry of red and blue, fists flying and a series of growls, the world slipping further away as your vision blurred from blood loss. 

You weren't sure if you had dreamt it, but you could have sworn the entire bracket of iron bars was ripped from the hinges of your cell, revealing Rhys and Feyre.

Flashes of star-speckled black, and then warm hands were pushing at your chest. 

“Rhys!” Feyre called, her hand pressing harder, pushing a silent yelp from you. “Rhys, my magic isn't strong enough to stop the bleeding!”

Your head was lolling, your mind screaming at you to hold on just a little bit longer. And then there were two sets of hands, violet and grey eyes panicked as they poured healing magic into you, flooding you with warmth.

From the other side of your cell, Beron was weakening in his fight, his magic at odds with Azriel and Cassian’s. In a swift manoeuvre, Azriel grappled the male, forcing his hands behind his back. Cassian was in front of him then, shoving him to his knees, readying to snap his neck with his bare hands. 

Both of them panted, bearing the pain of your magic that flooded the room, delighting in what every instinct begged for them to do. 

“Wait!”

The males froze, turning to you. 

“Wait, don’t kill him,” you rasped. 

They stopped. 

“My love?” Azriel all but growled. 

“He killed Lucien,” your words were just above a whisper, and you felt Feyre’s hands drop from you. “He killed Lucien, as has kept the Lady of Autumn prisoner. They-they deserve a trial. They deserve to see him pay for all of his crimes.”

“What did you say?” Feyre’s voice was small, her arms slackened at her sides. You could offer no comfort in your state, blinking with a furious attempt to stay awake.

Azriel and Cassian exchanged a look, before nodding to you. Cassian drew his fist back, before landing a blow to Beron’s face, with only enough strength to render him unconscious. 

Shackles were ripped from you, and then hands - their hands - were everywhere, their lips too. Holding you, kissing you, rocking you as you wept at their touch. You were beyond grief and sadness in that moment – cries of relief went muffled as Azriel and Cassian held you up as you clung at them and just sobbed. The bond pulsed at the proximity, and you used the little strength you had to hold them both tighter, imprinting their scents to memory. You relished in the safety of their embrace as they cried with you, kissing you, checking you for more injuries as you healed slowly, swearing they would never let you go and that they were so, so sorry. 

The moments that followed were a blur. 

Illyrian soldiers flooded the dungeons, dragging Beron’s body with careful handling of the sword. Feyre’s cries were a sorrow sound, Rhys’s arms around her as she wept at the loss of her friend. You hated to have bared the news of Lucien's sacrifice, and to have to inflict the same pain on Tamlin. 

Oh gods, Tamlin.

“T-Tam-?” you gasped between sobs. 

Rhysand’s eyes were heavy, but fond as he smiled brokenly. “He was still fighting alongside the Illyrians when we entered. But he is safe.”

Your heart swelled at the bravery of your friend, and you wouldn't let yourself think about the damn battle that had erupted above your head.

Your hands shook then, knees buckling as the weight of the events caught up with you. A scarred hand rubbed at your back.

“You’re safe, my love, rest now.”

“Serafina–"

“Is with Helion. Everyone is safe my girl. You can let go now,” Cassian added, cupping your face.

It was the sweetest of lullabies you had ever heard, and now finally at peace, you gave into the exhaustion, falling into a safe slumber in the arms of your mates.

————

You were not alone when you woke.

Acutely aware of the soft snores of Cassian and Azriel, their deep breathing a song of its own as you came to in what felt like days. 

Cassian’s head was in your lap, face down as locks of chestnut hair mopped outwards, your hand held limply in his. 

Azriel slept upright, slumped against the postings of your bed, scarred hand upturned where your other hand lay in his, shadows gently caressing your side. 

A snort of laughter escaped you. 

It was a raspy, broken sound with no voice beneath it, but the movements of your chuckle rocked the bed gently as you indulged in the comical sight of your mates that had fallen asleep in such a way.

You wondered if their necks hurt as much as you hurt all over. 

Cassian's hand tightened around yours on instinct as he stirred.

A scarred hand touched your jaw, gently coaching your eyes to find Azriel beaming down at you with a soft smile, dark lashes still blinking from sleep. “You’re awake.”

Cassian squeezed your hand, his head turned to face you from where he still lay in your lap. “Hello, love.”

Your lip quivered, and then you laughed again, overcome with an intense amount of gratitude, hopefulness and glee. With a hoarse voice you were able to speak through your tear stained smile.

“My mates.”

--------

Part 9>>>

AN: Oh my gosshhhhh thank you for reading Part 8 of Our Girl!!! I so so hope you enjoyed it!! And can I tell you - to have these 3 properly reunited has genuinely warmed my heart while writing. I think I got really bogged down in the angst - which I love - but I'm warmed by building to this happy ending. There will be one more part of Our Girl – it will explore the events following the reader's rescue, and also another time-jump, maybe a certain special event?? The reader's mission work is definitely not forgotten either - it will play a vital role in how the story ends. I always want to hear your thoughts and feelings - I actually can't believe we're close to the end 6 months later! Damn I really dragged this one out... sorry friends. Comment if you want to join my general tag list, and please take care. MWA!!

#cazriel x reader #cazriel series #cazriel x you #cazriel angst #cazriel x mating bond #cazriel fluff #azriel x cassian x y/n #cazriel x y/n #acotar series #azriel x cassian x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x cassian angst #azriel x cassian poly #poly!batboys #poly!acotar #acotar angst #acotarfanfic #azriel angst #azriel x reader #acotar fanfic #cassian angst #feyre and rhysand #acotar #acotar fandom #sarah j maas #cazriel x fem reader #cassian x azriel x y/n #kidnapped reader #acotar injured reader #injured reader

[acourtofladydeath]

Poly+ ACOTAR Week Day 3: Secrets

Morrigan sleeps at the town house after a night out and as she's trying to sneak out, she learns a secret about four people she never expected to find together.

AKA: Mor and Rhys hear some HOT GOSS because they're SNOOPS.

Have some cousin bonding and a secret polycule for @polyacotarweek day 3. Read a snippet below the cut, or the full fic on AO3 here!

Morrigan walked down the steps of Rhys’s Velaris town house quietly. After a rowdy night out at Rita’s she’d decided to sleep here since it was closest to the bar. What she’d forgotten in her drunken state was that Eris was visiting the Night Court today, and Rhysand had put him up in the town house.  She winced as she placed some weight on the creaky stair a few steps down, containing her sigh of relief when, for once, it didn’t make a sound. As Morrigan reached the halfway point on the stairs, she heard a voice that made her suddenly stop.  “Come on, Eris. You’ve gotta work with us here.”  Cassian’s voice had Morrigan’s heart pounding. Why was he here? What could he possibly need with Autumn Court’s heir? Eris’s scoff wafted up the stairs, sharp even from where Morrigan hunched almost a floor above. “I’m pretty sure I’m already doing that, you brute. Rhysand doesn’t know truly why I’m here because you three didn’t want to tell him yet.”  This was all too much for Morrigan and her head began to spin. She sat down on the stairs as quietly as possibly and reached out to her cousin with her mind.  What’s wrong, Mor? Rhys responded almost instantly, sensing her panicked state.  Get to the town house. Eris is here with Cass and two other people. They’re planning something they’re specifically keeping from you and I don’t know what it is.  Rhys’s reply was clipped and hard, Where are you exactly?  On that creaky step. They’re down in the living room so winnow to the second floor and walk down to meet me. Moments later, Rhysand was silently making his way down the steps to sit beside Morrigan. Have they said anything else? Rhys asked in her mind, cocking his head toward the living room to try and hear the people shuffling around. Mor shook her head, remaining silent as they listened in on the conversation below.

Continue reading at the first cut on AO3.

Please let me know if you would like off or on my taglist!: @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing

#acotar #acosf #azris #nessian #poly!acotar #azris x nessian #secret relationship #relationship reveal #Eris is outnumbered by his Night Court mates #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d3 #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel #eris vanserra #neris #nezriel #cazriel #cassian x eris #nesta x cassian x eris x azriel #morrigan #rhysand #fates mates #mating bonds #poly!mating bond #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar

[tsunami-of-tears]

Wingspans

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 5 (Favourite Tropes)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Y/N is eager to learn more about the Illyrians - for healing purposes of course. 

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 3.2K

A/N: I had an idea and it ran away from me, hence the title change. 

This entire week features some of my favourite tropes (idiots in love and everyone else can see it, aphrodisiacs, friends to lovers, etc) but I’ve focused on wings for this part, along with one bed at the end for a treat 😘

Warnings: wing clipping; female healthcare issues; allusion to domestic abuse; domestic mate stuff; multiple smut scenes (wingplay, PiV, double penetration).   

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fascinated with wings. 

Every pair you’ve come across has been uniquely beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the thing you envied most about winged fae was their ability to fly.

You have your father to thank for that - for inheriting the call of the wind. A call you’d never been able to answer. 

Now, thanks to the Cauldron, you were blessed with two winged mates. 

The three of you had been edging around the bond since it snapped a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been formally accepted yet as you all agreed to get comfortable with the dynamic first. 

Since you started courting Cassian and Azriel, your fascination with their wings only grew. 

You would watch how the strong muscles flex as they carried you in the sky. You would admire them stretching out in the warmth of the sun. 

You also started to notice the little quirks both of your mates had. 

When they are cold, they tuck their wings in closer to their frame; when Azriel is proud of something, he holds his wings up higher; and when Cassian laughs, his wings flutter as his shoulders rise and fall. 

There’s also the quirks during sex. 

The subtle twitch and the slight curling of the outer edges as they reach their climax.

Learning about how their wings worked would only make you a better healer, so you spend your limited free time pouring over medical journals and reading Madja’s notes from over the years. The theory was a good foundation, but the best way for you to learn is with practical experiences. 

The first time you got to touch them was with Azriel. He had caught you staring at his wings. 

He was training on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his wings were fully extended behind him. The sunlight glowed red through the thin membrane. They were captivating. 

A few shadows hurry over to greet you, like a playful puppy nipping at your feet.

Azriel turns, smiling at you and catches your gaze. “What are you staring at?” he smirks. 

“Your wings are mesmerising,” you say softly.

Azriel stretches them out wider for you, showing off his wingspan before giving you a wink and returning to his training.

He stopped by your clinic later where you were reading through a detailed tome about wing physiotherapy. You were so engrossed in the text, that you didn’t see him slip in.

You jump when you finally notice him towering above you. “Cauldron, you scared me Az.”

“I’m sorry, you make a cute face when you're concentrating, I didn’t want to interrupt 

What are you reading?” Azriel walks around to your side of the desk, looking down at the scrawled handwriting filling the pages in your hands. He smirks down at you. “Is there a particular reason that you’re so obsessed with wingspans, Y/N?”

Your cheeks heat, and you look up at Azriel. “I want to be prepared… If the need arises.” You glance at the sharp talons poking over your mate’s broad shoulders. 

He leans down and flicks through a few pages of the tome. “The diagrams are good but it’s not quite the same,” he says. “Do you want to examine my wings?”

“Are you sure? I know they are quite sensitive. I don’t want to cross any line.”

The corners of his mouth curl upwards at your apprehension. “It is in my favour to help you, so you can heal me if need be. But, there’s no one I trust more.” 

————

Azriel had removed his shirt, allowing you access to his back and wings. His wings were spread, the leathery membrane taught between each bone. Your fingertips delicately traced each ridge as Azriel expanded and contracted his muscles. 

Your hands are warm with your healing magic as you gently stroke them against the sensitive skin. Azriel’s knuckles turn white as he grips the tabletop he’s braced against. You can tell it’s taking all of his self-control not to fuck you then and there. 

When you ran the edge of his wing between your thumb and index finger, he snapped. Azriel spun around, grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the workbench behind you. 

Azriel’s lips are on yours, hurried and hungry as he takes your lower lip between his teeth. You gasp against his mouth as he bites down before kissing along your jawline. 

His hands roam your body, branding your flesh with need. 

You fumble with the button on Azriel’s pants as he hikes up your dress and pushes your panties to the side. His fingers dip straight in, your core already soaked and throbbing. 

You had known exactly what you were doing when you started examining his wings… 

You finally free Azriel’s cock from the constraints of his leathers, and he grinds his hips against yours. 

Your lips find each other again as he ruts into you; not waiting to let you adjust, you don’t need to. Your veins are filled with lust as he pounds into you. The steady rhythm combined with his thumb on your clit sends you over the edge. 

One hand grips behind his neck tightly as you climax, and you reach with the other to run your fingers along the inside of his wing. That stroke was his undoing, and he finished deep inside you.

You feel his cock twitching as you stay in your embrace, regaining your breath. 

“Fuck, Y/N, that was…” Azriel pants, kissing your forehead tenderly. 

“That was a breach of the healer/patient relationship,” you laugh. 

Azriel smirks, “You can take advantage of me any day, angel.” 

————

The next time, you tried it with Cassian. 

He was underneath you as you rode him. Your hands flat on his chest for support as you rocked back and forth. 

You looked at his wings splayed beneath him, and then to his eyes - a silent question. 

“I’m all yours, you can touch anywhere you want, angel.

He grips your hips harder, lifting his to meet your thrusts.

You softly trace along a prominent vein and Cassian throws his head back, moaning loudly. 

He thrusts up into you without abandon, hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and reaching your climax together. 

The sound of your breathing fills the room as you lay down in Cassian’s arms. Your head resting on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll never tire of this,” he whispers against your hair.

————

Soon after that fateful training exercise, you began working closely with the Valkyries. If any conflict arose, you’d be stationed with them as a healer. The all-female unit had grown to 50 warriors in the years since its revival. With Nesta now residing in Autumn with Eris, the unit is led by Gwyn and Emerie.

The first time you met Emerie, your heart broke.

Her wings were nothing like the mighty appendages held high by your mates. 

They were beautiful but brutal. 

Thick jagged scars cut across the planes of her wings, starting at the very base. Her wings had very limited movement, and on cold mornings, you notice a slight twinge in the left one.

Still, Emerie carried herself proudly with her wings as tall as she could manage. A true Valkyrie.

After observing her from afar, your research changed direction. You were driven by your new purpose - helping your friend and the countless females like her. 

There were limited existing resources on clipped wings, so you proposed a clinical study to Rhys. He issued approval instantly and, to Lord Devlin’s dismay, he set up a clinic in Windhaven for you to meet with patients. 

Many females were scared to visit you, out of fear of retaliation from their husbands and fathers. But there were still many brave souls who came forward, allowing you to examine them. 

Progress was slow, but both the physical and emotional support you provided was making a difference. 

————

Today you had a female visiting from another camp. You walk into the waiting room with a warm smile on your face. You’re always so proud to see new patients. 

“Victoria? I’m Y/N, your new healer. Please come inside.” You say to the female. 

She gives you a shy smile, lowering her gaze as she walks past you into your office. 

“Thank you for making the trip to see me. I will do my best to help you, however I can. Take a seat on that cot there,” you gesture towards the bed in the middle of the room. You meet her eyes as you continue, your voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to remember this is entirely on your terms. I will only touch you, or offer treatment with your consent, do you understand?”

Victoria nods, brushing a single tear from her cheek at your words. 

“Good. If it’s okay, I’d like to see the extent of the damage. Can you show me your range of movement?” You give Victoria an encouraging nod. “Lift, wonderful. Now lower them. You’re doing amazing. And now extend them as far as you can outwards - like you’re stretching.” You demonstrate with your arms, extending them out to the side.  

Victoria’s wings shudder slightly as she strains to stretch them out but they barely shift. 

“You’re doing so well, I know this is difficult. Can I touch you? I want to get a feel of the scarring if that’s okay.” 

She nods hesitantly. 

“If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me.”

“Okay,” she says. The first words you heard from her mouth.

“I’m just letting my magic get a sense of the damage, my hand might feel cool along the inner side of your wings.” You move to stand behind Victoria and start on the biggest scar. The tissue is jagged and bumpy, and as pale as the moon. Your healing magic flows through you, washing over the surface of the scar but unable to penetrate. This is the worst case of wing clipping you’ve seen so far. You aren’t sure how much movement she’ll be able to regain, but you have to try.

You walk around the cot to face her and finish your consultation, asking all your standard questions about pain and mobility. 

You pick up a glass jar filled with a numbing salve. “I’d like you to start by applying this to the scars once a day.” You demonstrate the amount of product to apply before handing over the jar. “If you’re particularly sore you can apply it a second time. You may need some help reaching around the back, do you have someone at home that you trust?”

“I live with my sister and her family. She’ll help,” Victoria says.

“Okay good, if you do need somewhere to stay during the treatment, it can be arranged. And if you don’t feel safe, we can help with that too.” 

Victoria nods in thanks.  

“I’ll see you again in 4 weeks. If you run out of the salve, send word.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.” Victoria smiles at you, looking more hopeful than when she first arrived. You help her into her coat and escort her out of the clinic. 

Once outside, you look up and see the sky is swirling with storm clouds and the sun is just about to dip behind the mountains. The wind howls through the surrounding trees. A big gust hits you and you feel the ice in your very bones. 

You bid goodbye to Victoria and trudge home. On clinic days you often stay in Rhys’s mother’s cabin with your mates. 

Warmth envelops you as you step over the threshold, along with the smell of your mates and a hot dinner. 

You kick off your boots and giggle as shadows help you with your coat. Cassian is standing over the stove as Azriel sets the table. Azriel stops what he’s doing to kiss you hello. 

“How was your day, angel?” Azriel asks. 

“It was good. I had a new patient, it always breaks my heart to see the trauma that’s been inflicted.” You instinctively reach for Azriel’s hand, stroking the back with your thumb. “I hope I can ease that pain, even just a little bit.” 

“You’re doing such great things,” Cassian says, juggling the three bowls and a bottle of wine. You and Azriel quickly reach out to help him and sit down together.

“We’re so proud of you,” Azriel states, adoration across his face. 

You smile back. “I do have you both to thank for all of this. I’ve worked with many kinds of wings before, but I think yours are the most fascinating.” 

“What kinds of wings?” Cassian asks. 

“Well, in Spring, many faeries have wings similar to insects. They are very delicate but they don’t have the same soft tissue and nerve ends. Then there are the Peregryns, they have fewer bones in their wings than Illyrians - but the feathers…” You laugh. “If you think Illyrians are protective of their wings, you should see a Peregryn if you touch their feathers.”

Azriel gives you a curious look, “Do you have much experience with Peregryns?”

“Mostly just my father, but I didn’t get to see him very often,” you answer plainly. Cassian nearly chokes on the wine he was sipping and Azriel’s eyes widen in shock.

“How have you never mentioned this?” Cassian asks you incredulously.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t come up. Obviously, I didn’t inherit any physical characteristics. I didn’t think it was important,” you shrug.

“Every part of your history is important,” Azriel says with complete sincerity. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you.” 

“I guess that explains how you took to flying so quickly,” Cassian remarks. 

You shake your head at your mates as you return to your meal. 

You finish up the cozy evening with Cassian and Azriel who had many questions for you about different wingspans. Namely, which race has the biggest. Even if it wasn’t the truth, you would have said Illyrians.

————

A few weeks later, Winter had well and truly arrived. 

You’re in a distant Illyrian camp making some supply drops and home visits. Both Cassian and Azriel join you, using any excuse to spend more time with you. 

It’s a relatively small camp, you have a handful of patients here so it’s only meant to be a quick stop. But, as the afternoon progresses, the weather takes a turn for the worse. 

“We’ll have to stay here overnight,” Cassian says. “We can’t risk flying in a storm and Azriel can’t winnow with both of us.”

Fortunately, there is a rundown but warm inn just outside of the camp. Unfortunately, with the incoming snowstorm, all of the rooms are booked. All but one. 

You enter the tiny room behind your mates who both need to bow their heads to fit inside. It would be a cramped lodging for two high fae but with three of you plus two pairs of wings…

Cramped is a severe understatement. 

————

You get ready for bed as best as you can, manoeuvring around each other with great difficulty. 

Finally you settle in, comforted by the warmth seeping into you from both sides. 

The bond is still new, you’ve not been in such close proximity to your mates, with so few layers between you and not touched them.

The heat radiating off both Cassian and Azriel was driving you wild. And based on their strong scents, it was having the same effect on them. 

Cassian’s groans break the silence. “Godsdamnit, Y/N. You’ll be the death of me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You exclaim. 

“That’s the point,” Cassian chuckles. 

You decide to tease him further by pushing your butt back against him, rubbing against his hardening length. 

Cassian groans again and wraps his arms around your waist, hands groping your breasts. Azriel leans on his forearm and locks eyes with you. You gasp as Cassian pinches your firm nipples and starts nipping at your earlobe. Cassian’s hand starts to trail lower, and you can’t hold in your moan as it slips down to your core, dragging through your growing wetness.

Desire overwhelms your senses. You don’t care about the space or lack thereof. You need your mates. 

Azriel starts to palm himself, moaning softly as you send images down the twin bonds. Images of how you want them. 

“Are you sure, angel?” Cassian whispers into your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean further into his embrace, “I’m sure. I need you both.”

You sit up and straddle Azriel, grinding your dripping slit against him. Azriel holds your hips firmly, pushing you down to provide more friction for both of you. 

You look over at Cassian with slightly glazed eyes. You nod at him, confirming your desire. 

He kneels on the bed behind you, there’s just enough room that he doesn’t hit his head on the low support beam. He squeezes your ass as he kisses down the side of your neck. Azriel starts circling your clit with his thumb as you continue to rock on top of him. 

You lean forward slightly, hands braced on Azriel’s chest as Cassian drags his cock along your slit, collecting your arousal. 

Azriel positions himself at your entrance as Cassian lines up at your rear. 

“Are you quite sure, angel?” Cassian asks again. 

“Yes… Please,” you whine softly.

Azriel lowers your hips, burying himself inside you as you both moan at the tightness. Your eyes flutter at how full you feel, and Cassian hasn’t penetrated you yet.

You feel pressure against your rear as Cassian pushes against you. “Are you ready?” He asks. 

You nod in answer, already struggling for words. 

Azriel resumes his steady circles as Cassian pushes into you. The stretching sensation is so intense you let out a strangled cry. “Are you okay?” Cassian asks. 

“Yep, I just need a moment to adjust.” 

Cassian resumes kissing your jaw as your body gets used to the full feeling.

“I’m ready,” you say and Cassian starts to slowly move in and out. 

Azriel starts thrusting, matching Cassian’s timing. 

“So full,” you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as the pleasure overwhelms you. 

With each thrust, your clit rubs against Azriel’s groin, bringing you closer and closer to that sweet release. 

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” Azriel pants. Cassian moans in agreeance.

Your fingers gravitate to your nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs as you’re hurled to the finish line. 

“Cum for us, angel,” Azriel commands, and you do. 

You cry out as you hit your climax, louder than usual. Both your holes clench as your mates wring scream after scream of pleasure from you. 

They both follow closely behind as you grip them tightly. As the moans and cries subside, the room is filled with the sound of panting. 

Cassian pulls out of you first, collapsing beside Azriel. 

Azriel helps lift you off of him and nestles you in between himself and Cassian. He kisses you lovingly as Cassian’s hand dips between your legs - using a washcloth to clean you up. 

Once clean, he pulls you close to his chest and wraps his wings around you and Azriel. 

Feeling content in your bubble with your mates, sleep finds you and takes you into its loving embrace.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

[imaginesandbandfiction]

TRIAD — Series Masterlist

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon Series

Part 0 — The boys take care of you after a mission.

Part 1 — How you first met Cas and Az.

Part 2 — Dealing with the aftermath of the mating bond.

Part 3 — The aftermath of the mating bond, continued.

Part 4 — Cas and Az get their shit together.

Part 5 — Your first time together. (contains smut)

Part 6 — The frenzy. (contains smut)

Part 7 — Azriel is dumb but a really good spy. (contains smut)

Part 8 — Reunited and it feels so good. (contains smut)

Part 9 — The Reunion part 2. (contains smut)

BONUS CONTENT:

Cassian and Azriel fancast/aesthetic for this series

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons

[danikamariewrites]

Poly ACOTAR Week Masterlist

Day 1: Together For The First Time

Feysand x Reader

With plans to announce your new mating bond at dinner Cassian being nosy may just ruin it.

Day 2: Watch Your Step

Feysand x Reader

Nyx is going through a phase where he doesn’t want to clean up his toys. Tripping on one at the top of the stairs and causing a nasty fall gives you a week of your mates worrying and doting on you.

Day 3: Nexus Being

Cazriel x Reader

You’ve kept your witchy ways a secret from your mates, and for good reason. What will they say when Rhys has asked you to you use your powers to help Prythian?

Day 4: Relax and Unwind

Nessian x Reader

You and your mates are off on your first vacation together to the Summer Court. Thanks to Tarquin’s generosity Cassian’s ban has finally been lifted. Anxiety takes over your good time because you are so focused on everyone else your mates step in and calm you down.

Day 5: Just This Once…Right?

Rhyssian x Reader

On your trip to the Day Court Helion puts you, Rhys and Cassian in the guest wing. There’s only one bedroom that he swears has two beds. Liar. One bed leads to feelings being confessed and some other things.

Day 6: The Happiest Day

Bat Boys x Reader

It’s your birthday and you hate your birthday. The boys are hell bent on making your 400th your best birthday yet and nothing is stopping them.

Day 7: Ours to Keep

Neris x Reader

This one is a secret besties. Plot revealed day of :)

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #poly+acotarweek2024

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate part 5

Cazriel x f!Reader 

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (epilogue)

Summary: Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Warnings: angst, illness, discussions of death, smut, minors dni

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: a short one, but I wanted to update this! It’s not over yet, I promise

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Cassian shot back at her. 

Azriel watched as the bond snapped. Counted the seconds it took her to reply. Fifty six. Less than a minute for his heart to crush. Maybe it was his fault, for assuming it might fix everything. Still, an angry and dangerous hurt filled him. The type of hurt that would make him reckless, that would make him say and do things he’d regret, so he left. Left her and Cassian in some kind of stand off. Did it make him a coward? To turn his back and walk away? Maybe, but it was the safe option. The option to cause the least harm. 

The weight of the last several months settled on him. 

You deserve it. 

Maybe she had a point. Even if he didn’t regret the things he’d done in the past, it had to balance out somewhere. Why would he deserve anything good? 

Azriel sought out Rhys, he couldn’t handle Cassian right now, but he needed an outlet. Some way to get all of his anger and hurt out. His brother didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, but stayed in the ring with him until they were both covered with sweat and filled with exhaustion. 

It didn’t work. 

-

Mates. Mates. Mates. The obnoxious voice in the back of her mind repeated. She wouldn’t lie to herself, they were telling the truth. Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Could fate throw a wrench in plans she hadn’t actually made? She should consider herself blessed to find two mates, but she never imagined herself mated this young. Not before her first century. They probably didn’t either. 

Her mind drifted to the state of their world, of the impending conflicts constantly around the corner. Could she forgive herself if she ignored them? Ignored herself? Only to have it ripped away unexpectedly. 

It was not the time to make a decision. A few weeks passed, and they all made careful circles around each other. Back to ignoring, thrown back to the past, and it was miserable. She was miserable. This wasn’t the past she wanted to be thrown into. 

Azriel had turned his back. Azriel walked away. Again, like a gods-damned coward. Cassian left after she kicked him out. If she accepted the bond, is this what waited for her? Constant fights, turning their backs on each other, always falling out and making up, only for everything to crash down again. 

Deep in herself, she knew she couldn’t go centuries without them, but she wasn’t sure she could handle centuries of that. Miserable with them, or without them. 

-

It started with a barely noticeable shake in her hand, followed by increased headaches. Not often, but more than usual. It didn’t impair her life, not significantly, but it was enough to bring her to Madja.

The healer looked … contemplative, and worried. She knew it would be bad news, at this point she was just waiting to hear how bad. 

“I need to look into it more.” 

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. A few weeks passed, and it was all she could think about. Even pushing thoughts of the mating bond aside. She’d given up on bugging Madja, who said she’d call her if she had any news. Finally, she received a letter, a summons with little detail, and burst out of the library as fast as she could, winnowing as soon as she cleared the wards. 

“What is it?” She didn’t bother with a pleasant greeting, especially when she saw the look on her face. After working alongside her for a few years, she knew that one, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “What is it?” She repeated, lower this time. Madja motioned for her to sit, she obeyed, and the female took a chair across from her. 

“It’s killing you.” At least she didn’t mince her words. 

“Any more details?” 

“It could be three years, it could be three hundred, could be a thousand.” 

“Right,” she swallowed, tilting her head towards the ceiling, willing the tears away. 

“We’ll find ways to manage it, I have more contacts to reach out to.” Madja continued, gently. 

“Manage,” she repeated faintly. 

“Have you told your mates about it?” 

She winced, taking a breath to center herself. “We’re not on speaking terms.” 

Madja clicked her tongue, “it could be three years, it could be three hundred, maybe a thousand. Do you want to live the rest of your life ignoring them? Is your grudge worth it?”

No. It wasn’t. She didn’t need to say it, Madja read the look on her face, returning it with one of approval. 

Tonight. She would do it tonight, before she ran out of time. Walking back to the Townhouse, she thought of how she would do it. First step would be to get the two of them alone. Then … maybe just tell them she’s ready. She didn’t bother going back to the library, there was no way she could focus. Not now. 

-

“What if we’re not ready?” 

Each word sliced into her, carving her heart open for them to see. Her eyes shuttered closed, taking a few moments to trap the tears behind, to will them away. 

All she could manage was a stiff nod, before making a quick exit - nearly at a sprint, if she’s being honest. She made it all the way out of the townhouse, winnowing down to the sidra, to a secluded spot near the river, before she broke. 

Knees hit the pavement, gravel embedding in her skin, her hands cradling her head as tears flowed, leaving a salty taste on her lips. 

“Thought I might find you here.” 

Amren. For fucks sake. Out of everyone to find comfort in, Amren was at the bottom of her list, not that she wanted comfort or company. Right now, she wanted to wallow in herself. 

A small, but surprisingly strong hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back to her feet. Silver eyes looked at her with a mix of distaste and pity.

“What?”

Those eyes narrowed in warning, but she didn’t care. Nothing could hurt now, not as she let numbness take over, and let herself slip into that void without feeling, the inbetween state where nothing mattered. 

“You’re all idiots.” 

A broken laugh left her, one hand rubbing her forehead. She could’ve sworn Amren’s blood red lips curved at the corners, however briefly. 

“Do you have any good advice?” 

Amren ignored the sneaky barb, tilting her head to assess her. As always, it felt like she was stripping her bare, somehow staring into the dark depths of her soul. “The three of you need to drag your heads out of your asses.” She scowled, that wasn’t much better. “What exactly did he say?” 

“What if we’re not ready?” she quoted. 

“It was a question, then.” 

“Not the way he said it.” 

“You make too many assumptions,” Amren clicked her tongue, finger running across her ruby necklace. Giant, almost gaudy, gems. But, the ancient creature managed to pull them off. 

-

Azriel was conned into picking up a tonic for Mor, who was currently acting like a child over her cough, but he didn’t mind doing it - not really. 

He startled when he scented her there. After the conversation a few days ago, a question Cassian meant rhetorically, she’d disappeared before they could follow her, and had been a virtual ghost the last few days. They were ready, had been ready, but resentment still lingered. 

Respecting her privacy would be the smart thing to do, but bits of her conversation with Madja snuck through, and his shadows investigated. They’d been restless. Wherever she retreated to, they couldn’t find her. 

“I heard back from my friend in Dawn, she said she’d be willing to take a look, but she’s not sure she’ll find anything I couldn’t.” Madja sounded a bit disappointed. To look at what? 

“It’s worth a shot.” 

“Have you told them?” 

“I did. They’re not,” her voice cracked, “ready.” 

“Have you told them about your … condition?” 

“No. I won’t, they’ll probably think I’m guilting them into it.” 

“It’s not going away,” Madja said, maybe a tad harshly. Azriel had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about. “As far as we know, we’re not going to cure it, this is about management.” 

“You’ve already said that,” your voice was dead, flat. “It would be nice to have a timeline.” 

“Like I told you before, it could be three years or three hundred. We’re in uncharted territory.” 

Azriel couldn’t handle it anymore, couldn’t handle being this close to you without speaking, and strode for the door, knuckles rapping against the wood. 

Madja swung it open, raising her brows. 

“Came to pick something up for Mor,” he said, but his eyes darted behind her - where you sat, head buried between your hands, forearms propped on your knees. 

“I think you need to talk,” Madja said, and slipped past him, leaving them alone. She didn’t look up, keeping her hands shielding her face. 

Slowly, he crossed, stopping to kneel in front of her, peeling her hands away. Eyes wide, brimming with tears slowly escaping, she asked “how much did you hear?” 

“Enough.” 

She tried to force a smile, and it failed miserably. Shock and realization set in as he looked at her, as he tried to read the swirling emotions on her face. He’d have to watch her die. Three years, three hundred, a thousand. Eternity didn’t feel like enough time with you. He’d be haunted by the knowledge that some day he’d lose his mate. As a result of all of their actions. Of something so fucking preventable, if all could’ve swallowed their pride. 

She deserves someone better. Someone who hadn’t fucked everything up. Maybe it made him a bad person, a selfish asshole, but she was his. His mate, the person destined for him - sent by the Mother, the Cauldron, Fate, or whatever. Azriel wouldn’t let go of her, wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers again. 

Cassian needed to know, but they needed to figure out a way to tell him without him slipping into a pit of misery and self loathing. 

“Might as well tell him now,” she read his expression, the unsaid words in his eyes. For once, she didn’t protest as he helped her up, tugging her to his chest and winnowing to the Townhouse.

-

Cassian took one look at her expression, at the tear stained cheeks, at the grave look on Azriel’s face and knew something was wrong. Something beyond whatever happened earlier. 

Poison. Side effects. No cure. Years or centuries. He didn’t let his eyes leave you as you explained, as tears streamed down your face - Azriel filling in the words where he could, admitting he overheard their conversation picking something up for Mor. 

Beautiful eyes stared at him as you finished, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He’d never been great with words, so he stood, grabbing her and pulling her into a tight hug. Squeezing until she said she couldn’t breathe, and then only loosening enough for her to not suffocate, not willing to let her go yet. 

“Madja’s contacting someone in Dawn,” he said, still holding on to you, “there’s still a chance.” 

“A better chance at management,” she said into his chest. Cassian didn’t want to believe it. Between all of them, with Rhys and Madja and whoever else they could get in contact with, they’d find something. He needed to cling to that hope, to hold onto it as tight as he could. If he didn’t, he’d fall deep, deep down somewhere he didn’t know he could drag himself out of. 

-

“You’ve hurt me, both of you. Turned your backs on me more times than I care to count. How do I push past that? How do I forget it? How do I trust you won’t do it again?” 

It felt like she was asking for an answer, begging for some kind of reassurance, an example that would soothe that feeling and hurt. 

“You don’t,” Cassian said. She frowned at him. “You let us prove it to you.”

“You still have nightmares, right?” She tensed, as if she wanted to avoid the question, and wanted to lie about it. Azriel raised one brow, shoulder swirling around his neck. She couldn’t lie to him, even if he tried to tell them to quit spying, they still kept an eye on her. 

A muscle in her jax flexed. “Right.” 

“Stay the night with us. Let us help.” Azriel didn’t phase it as a question. He needed to help. Every instinct roared at him to get her closer, to protect her from any threats - visible or not.

“You can come on your own feet, or over my shoulder,” Cassian threw a grin her way. 

She chuckled, shoulders relaxing at the old threat - one used several times by Cassian. “I can handle walking down the hall. If I have a nightmare, I’ll come.” 

“Save yourself the walk.” 

They had one of their standoffs, each of them crossing their arms - almost in sync. Azriel pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. It was so normal. It gave him hope they could build back what they had before everything went to hell. 

She might accept the bond, but Azriel was smarter than to think that would fix everything. The trust they had, it might take years to build back up again. A challenge would be good for them. Sure, it might suck, it might be difficult, but he didn’t doubt they’d come out closer because of it. 

-

“If you don’t relax, you’ll never sleep.” 

“I’m perfectly relaxed,” she snipped back. It wasn’t completely true, actually it was mostly a lie. Something about sharing their bed now, with what she knew, felt different. 

“Liar,” Azriel countered. At least she could always count on him to call her out. 

Cassian ran a hand up her thigh, stopping where her night dress ended. It was a particularly short one. The first one she could grab before he showed up in her room. She’d intended to walk there on her own, but he’d come to throw her over his shoulder anyway, a playful gesture as she laughed and half heartedly hit the space above his wings. 

“Need a little … help loosening up?” 

Gods, his mouth was so close to her ear, lips almost brushing over, breath caressing her neck. She tensed for another reason. Azriel’s fingers tilted her jaw up. Hazel eyes searched hers. Do you want this?

Did she? Fuck, she really did. Yes. 

A nod, not directed at her, and Cassian’s hand drifted, fingers dragging up the hem of the silky fabric, exposing more of her skin. 

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, Azriel’s finger tugged it free, brushing over it. His knuckles ran over her jaw, Cassian’s hand made its way up. She didn’t know where to focus, not as Azriel leaned in to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth, as Cassian gripped her leg, tugging it back over her hips, dress pushed up to her hips. Exposed. Exposed and nothing worn underneath it. 

She heard them swallow at the same time, vaguely seeing Azriel’s throat bob in the moonlight. 

Being touched by them was safe. This was safe, she emphasized to her mind, not giving it a chance to take over her thoughts, refusing to let it cloud her senses.

Cassian was teasing, fingers drifting around the outsides, never actually touching her where she wanted to. Azriel traced her cheekbones, jaw, collarbone, around the curve of her breasts. 

“This is not relaxing,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing back against Cassian for emphasis. He let out a short breath, gripping her thigh instead. A low whine left her. Now he was too far. He laughed, and her cheeks flushed. “Are you going to make me beg?” 

“Not this time,” he said, just as Azriel’s hand crept under her dress, pushing back up to pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Two of Cassian’s fingers ran up her folds. 

Gods, this was heaven. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? His fingers swirled around her clit, Az palming her breast now, switching back and forth between the two of them. How had she gone so long without this? 

Swirling, pinching, flicking, pressing, the sensations spreading across her body mixed into one. Just one state of pleasure, of confusion and overdrive. She wiggled, arched her back, let out moans she didn’t have time to think about. Her thighs clenched as one finger slipped inside of her. Who’s was it? She didn’t know, didn’t care, as long as it never left. 

“Good,” Cassian murmured, “let go for us sweetheart.” 

You did. You screamed - loud enough a hand clamped over your mouth, one of them laughing. 

Slowly, the one finger left her, and she missed it. Didn’t quite like the empty feeling left behind. But, she was distracted as the hand - it must’ve been Cassian then, crossed over her … to Azriel. 

He met her eyes as he wrapped his lips around it, tasting her. Fuck. Just one hit, one taste, and she was in over her head. 

“I want to … to you-” she babbled, words nearly nonsensical. 

Cassian laughed behind her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Another time.” 

She pouted. Fucking pouted. Gods they’d really turned her into a mess. 

“We promise,” Azriel pushed some of the hair back from her face. 

“Feeling relaxed now?” Cass asked. 

If she said no, would they do it again? 

“If you lie, I'll know.” 

Fine. “I’m relaxed.” 

“Good, now sleep,” Cassian rested his hand on her stomach. Too appropriate of a place. 

“How am I supposed to sleep after that?” 

“Close your eyes, think sleepy thoughts. She elbowed him. He had some of the worst advice. He countered by pushing her towards Azriel. The male didn’t hesitate to roll her to her other side, now curving his body around hers, holding her tight enough she couldn’t escape if she wanted to. “I regret that,” Cassian muttered, but shifted closer, arm draping over her to rest on Azriel. 

The three of them, curled up together, just how it should be. Fate designed it this way, the Mother put the three of them together for a reason. No matter how limited, she’d take whatever she could get. 

taglist:  @infinitely-kate, @foreverrandomwritings, @anuttellaa, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @bookishdeer, @sidthedollface2, @mis-lil-red, @acourtofbatboydreams, @blessthepizzaman, @hallucynatiing, @summerloversposts, @i-am-infinite, @fanfiction-for-my-soul, @brandywineeeee, @oktievia, @inloveallthetime let me know if you'd like to be added! sorry it didn't let me tag everyone!

#cazriel x y/n #cazriel x reader #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x azriel x y/n #acotar fic #acotar x reader #cassian x reader x azriel #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader

[elriell]

Another (Updated) list of replies, theories & thoughts from myself and fellow shippers for easier access to all my favourite opinions! Just to make navigating specific topics a little easier, though feel free to explore my tags for more. I had to redo this because all the links were fucked on my old one after I changed URL.

→ Azriel Bonus POV   &  Feysand Bonus POV ←

Mates/Mating Bonds

Elriel Master-Post of Thoughts

Mating Bonds/Elucien/Elriel

[Updated Mates]

The Mating Bond is A Spell

Do you think Elriel are mates?

Mating Bonds & Bridges

Need Through Bond

8th Court/Dusk Court - Theories (and more)

8th Court/Dusk Court Theory  ➝ 1 / 2 /The Moirai

Foreshadowing & Mist and Shadow

4th Death Trove

The Bone Carver & The Prison

High Lady of Dusk Court

Three’s

Truth-Teller

Koschei the Deathless

Elain "Kingslayer" Archeron

Elain’s fucking Uterus

Elain + Angel Wings

Elain Vibes/Dresses

ELAIN APPRECIATION

“It’s Elain’s Book”

Wearing Black + Another One

The Void

Receipts

Elriel

Elriel Quotes Master-List

FanArt Masterpost

Then vs. Now

Azriels Secrets

Another Kind of Sunlight

Misconceptions (Only Sexual)

"Only Wants Sex" Argument

Foreshadowing

Forbideen

Sun & Shadows

Windows

After POV Opinion (Azriel Specific) + Another One

Elriel Opinion + Gwynriel Friendship & Part Two

Only wants Sex, argument.

Powder Gift Significance

SHYEET

Necklace + Part 2

BDE

↳ Parallels

Feysand Parallels

Rowaelin Parallels in Text + Another One + Three

Elorcan Parallels

Rowan&Lyria/Elucien Parallels

Holy Trio Parallels

Cazriel Parallels + Part Two + Part Three + Wings & Embers [W&E Part Two]

Helion & The High Lady of Autum Past vs Present Elriel Parallels

Nesta & Azriel Parallels

3 Bat Boy Reactions + Part Two

All Sarah's Mates

TOG Parallel?

Rowaelin x Feysand x Elriel Parallel

Arguments/Discussions Against Elriel Debunked

Shadows:

Azriel's Shadows/Trauma

Elain + Shadows

Azriel's Shadows DO NOT run from Elain

↳ Sub-Category - Lightsinger/Powers

Gwyn as a Lightsinger + Part Two

Glow = Power

Gwyn's Powers

Gwyn's Song/Cauldron Song

Timing

Necklace

Parallels to Nessian

Necklace Thoughts

Other;

Rescuing

Azriel's Personality

COMEDY BINGO, click a link and have a laugh!

(A)   (B)   (C)   (D)     (E)

There is unfortunately a link limit so I can no longer link all my replies to a bunch of ask's which really elaborates on some of my opinions, so I will make a separate specific post HERE.

always be kind and enjoy yourself.

Morgan xo

#Elriel #Elain Archeron #Azriel #Elain x Azriel #ACOTAR #black and white #Azriel x Elain #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel #advertising

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 5

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: You wake after succumbing to the mating bond.

Word count: 5.1k

<<&lt; Part 4

Strands of hair tickled your cheeks, a warm, gentle breeze kissing your face as you groggily blinked awake. 

 A spring breeze. 

You jolted upright, urgently scanning around you. It was a lavash guest room, soft white sheets settled over your body, lush pillows piled to have cradled your head. You had no idea who's clothes you wore, but you knew you were at the Spring Manor. 

As if on queue, a house maid opened the doors to your room, behind her a healer. It was the same perky house maid that had greeted you when you first visited Tamlin. 

“Oh good, you’re awake, she pepped. The healer wordlessly approached you, pressing her thumb to your wrist. She gave the maid a quick nod before leaving the room, without having spoken a word. 

“She’s mute,” the maid explained. 

Oh. You stared back at her. So were you, it seemed.

“The High Lord will be eager to hear you are awake. Will you take his visit?”

You nodded silently, unable to form the thousands of questions as your brain came to wake. 

Tamlin was in your room in no less than a few minutes. 

“How are you feeling?”

You blinked. You hadn't really thought about that. Looking within yourself, you felt it there, a swollen heart, alive and beating and thriving, but also aching from a deep wound. You were nautious and weak and so gods damned angry. How could the Mother be so cruel?

“How long was I asleep?”

“Just a day.”

You nodded, running your hand through your hair. “And we’re in Spring?”

Tamlin nodded. “Feyre and Rhys winnowed us here.”

You were too tired to gawk, so you blinked instead. “Pardon me?”

“And your… Azriel and Cassian are still here, waiting for you to wake.”

You must still be dreaming. “You opened your home to them?” you croaked.

Tamlin shrugged. “We wanted to bring you to your Uncle’s, but you could see to a healer faster here. Besides, there was no fitting five fae in that cabin, especially two Illyrians.”

“They could have slept outside,” you ground out, and Tamlin chuckled. 

“You do… remember what unfolded at the wedding, don’t you? That Azriel and Cassian are your mates?”

“Do not call them that.” Taming the bite in your tone was beyond you, even for your friend. You had to clench your eyes shut to stop the reel in your vision, your whole body clenching as you remembered that awful, fated moment.

Tamlin didn't falter. Instead he dropped his eyes before reaching for your hand and squeezing it sympathetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“Yes. No. I don't know,” you said plainly, pinching at your nose. It did hurt, this unwanted binding to the two beings you resented most in this world. It hurt to resist them, to resist it. As if there was a home, beckoning you inside to warmth and food and comfort, and instead you stood outside in the hail and cold, despising it for ever being built.

Tamlin’s eyes were soft as he watched you shift uncomfortably. You hated that look too, as if he was sad for you, as if this bond was your fate and you had no say in the matter. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he blinked. 

“As if I’m some mindless female destined to forget and forgive and go running back with a kiss to each of their cheeks.”

“I don’t think that–”

“Because I’m not, and I won’t. I still have my head, and my senses, and some gods-damned self respect.” 

Tamlin sighed then. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to Y/N. I won't allow it.”

You cast your eyes to the roof then, blinking away the sting of tears. “And what of us, Tamlin? Suppose I was free to explore a future with you?”

Tamlin moved to hold your one hands in his, running a thumb in your palm. “You are free, sweetheart.”

“And you would court me, knowing I’m cauldron-bound to not just one, but two others?”

His thumb stopped rubbing then, and his lips pressed to a thin line. 

You stared hard at Tamlin, eyes piercing. Don’t lie - that look said - we do not lie to each other. 

And as Tamlin raised green eyes to yours, in their softness you had your answer. 

“Your silence is answer enough,” you bit, letting out a sharp breath as tears slid down your cheeks, snatching your hand from his. 

It had started – your choices, your freedom – fading away already. Curse the Mother.

“Come now Y/N, I will always love you, and we will always have each other, however our relationship might change.”

“Lies, Tamlin. Fucking lies,” your voice broke as tears streamed down your cheeks. You were flushed with anger then, kicking off the sheets that were now too hot, your skin beginning to tingle. Gods, not now you begged, holding your breath to stifle the sting at your fingertips.

“I do not lie to you, Y/N.” Tamlin said sternly. 

You swung your legs from your bed, standing in a hurry as blood rushed to your head. “You’re just another disappointment,” you said coldly, pacing as you shook your hands to rid of your power. 

Pain flashed in his eyes, and he recoiled slightly before straightening, his eyes hardening. “You’re being unfair.” 

“You males are all the same! You treat females as if they are objects, owned by one male and therefore not to be touched by another. An unspoken exchange, as if I were cattle and not an actual fucking being.” 

Tamlin pinched his nose then, his jaw tightening. “That is not what is happening here. You cannot punish me for not wanting to entangle myself in your mateship, not when I’m doing it out of respect for you.”

You were being unfair, and quite unforgiving, but your words were as unstoppable as your power in this moment, zapping and dancing at your skin. 

“Is that what you define as respect, High Lord? Because despite a year of friendship, all it took was one gods-foresaken moment for you to side with what they want, and start dismissing me. You believe in the bond, and you respect Azriel and Cassian enough to house them, and agree that you won't so much as look at me again. You have chosen them over me, plain and simple.”

Tamlin’s face was grave, and you knew you were twisting an old wound of his. And perhaps you were being rash, but you didn't care. You would shut him out, or anyone who thought they knew what was best for you. 

“I thought I was helping you by allowing them here,” he said defensively. “I thought perhaps you’d feel safe here, but would still want them close, to be able to talk to them.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re gods-damned right I want to talk to them! I’ll tell them exactly what I think of this couldren-made-shackle, of what I think of the Mother if they think for one second they can–” You swayed on the spot as you spat a string of curses, vision blurring slightly.

Despite the cruel words you had cast his way, Tamlin approached, steadying you by your shoulder’s, biting down on the pain that stung him at his touch. 

“I understand your anger, Y/N, I do. But you’re still unwell, you should rest now and–”

Tamlin should have know better than to test your stubbornness. 

So you marched for the door, flinging it open as you stormed through the manor, using that tether you so loathed to cast out your mates. Tamlin was on your tail, trying to reason to take a moment or calm yourself before doing anything rash. But you didn't turn once as you found the room that beheld your mates, ripping the doors open without so much as a knock. 

They knew you were coming of course. Azriel stood near the bed, and Cassian had just risen from the armchair he sat on in the opposite corner – their faces grave, worried, with a sickening kind of longing. 

It was as if the flesh between your bones went soft, your body begging to give out or give in and relish in the proximity of being close to your mates. But you forced yourself to stay stiff, holding a glare that could cut glass.

“Wipe those looks off your faces,” you bit, stalking into the room.

Azriel cast his eyes to Tamlin who held a look that said I tried to stop her. He knew better than to linger, pulling the doors closed behind you.

“How are you fee–?” Cassian tried, but you raised a hand to silence him. 

They waited in silence, and you darted your eyes between them. 

“You think this means I forgive you?”

They knew better than to answer that. 

“You think this means you can have me, because the Mother wishes to see us mated?” you continued, your voice laced with ice. “Well it doesn’t. I will not head to fate and forsake myself, not even for the cauldron.”

Azriel sighed then, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. “Of course you won’t,” he said plainly. 

You scowled. “Is that sarcasm?” you bit, even though you felt his sincerity creeping through the tether. 

“No. It’s knowing.”

You blinked.

“We know you doll,” Cassian said as he too sat back in the chair, running a strong hand through his hair – a tell sign of stress. “Not because of the bond. But because we’ve loved you for almost a decade now. We know there is not a thing that can set you apart from your principles.”

“And we would never ask that of you,” Azriel added.

You shuffled, your arms crossing defensively. “You won't try to convince me to go back with you?” you asked stiffly.

Cassian shook his head. “No, it was wrong for us to ask that of you in the first place.”

Azriel stood then, moving closer to a settee in the centre of the room. “We do ask that you might let us explain. We have so much we've wanted to tell you, even before you left Velaris. And there is a lot of truth we’ve withheld, things you deserve to know.” He slid his hands behind his back, waiting at the seats – a silent offering to join them, to hear them out. 

It was a temptation you couldn't deny yourself. You moved swiftly, sitting on one side, a low reading table separating you as Cassian took a place next to Azriel. 

“We had suspicions of the bond from when we first began to court you.” Azriel began. “It was so rare for us to long for the same female, but the true hint was in the lack of jealousy we felt between each other.”

Cassian nodded. “We agreed to court you as, well, as partners. It wasn't anything we had explored in our 500 years, but with you, it felt so natural.”

“And your ease too, that was a big sign,” Azriel added. “We half expected you to flee, or never speak to us again.”

“But you were so comfortable, you made it feel… right.”

You were frowning slightly. You didn't remember feeling natural or at ease at all, in fact you were sick to your stomach with nerves when you first began dating. But perhaps they had a point, exploring your first relationship with two males hadn’t added any more challenge than regular dating for you. You had put that down to your friendship of many years. 

“Over the period we dated, and as we fell in love with you, we learned to love each other too. We were brothers, but you showed us how to be more than that, igniting something not even they Cauldron dared show us.”

“We wanted to tell you of our suspicions, but it didn’t feel like the right time. You were so focused on your work, so determined to do well. And I suppose we thought it was a hopeless dream – it didn't feel right to distract you with that.” Cassian explained, leaning into his elbows that rested on his knees.

You weighed up their words, eyes darting between the males. It had never occurred to you that a mating bond was at play. You would have never believed yourself to be cauldron-blessed if they had suggested it – or cauldron-cursed rather.

Azriel cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. “It wasn't until the moment that I killed Alvar, that I felt the bond snap,” he breathed out, his voice husky and his hazel eyes cast downward, grimacing as he recalled the difficult memory. “I watched the life leave his body, and then I heard a snap, a force so strong it made me falter. I was reborn in that moment, my new purpose to solely fill your needs, to care for you, protect you. I could feel your desires overriding mine, and in that your determination and hunger to avenge your sister. And I knew then, that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

There was a downward tug of your lips, your face muscles jerking involuntarily as you tried not to cry, imagining that moment that changed everything for the worse. 

“I have dreams of Alvar, still alive and at the mercy of Trutheller. I dream that I sheath my sword and step away, returning to a world where you are waiting for me at our home. And your embrace is warm and true, because you love us, and we never did a thing to ruin it.” Azriel’s voice broke as he flashed those hazel eyes, lined with tears. 

Two silent tears slid down your cheeks, your chest tight with the shallows breaths you kept to keep yourself from crumbling. You didn't respond – what could you say? Instead, you cleared your throat, grasping the arms of your chair even tighter. “And what of you?” you asked Cassian. 

“It snapped for me in that same moment. But I was journeying home from the northern training camps in Illyria.” 

You blinked in shock. The bond had snapped for the both of them, with that greater distance between them while Azriel was across the sea?

“As I was flying back to Velaris, and I heard the snap in my ears before I felt it course through my veins and wounding my heart. That realisation, that same pain that Azriel described, the devastation at what we had done… it sent me crashing into the thick of forest.”

You closed your eyes as you imagined the great War General, bought to his knees by such a thing. 

“It seems none of us have been welcomed to this mateship gently,” you said tightly. Why had the Mother forsaken so much pain?

“I could hear Az then, speak to him through the bond in the same way Rhys and Feyre speak in  our minds. I could feel his panic too, his fear of having to tell you, to break you in such a way. I calmed him down as best I could, and reassured him that we would do it together, as soon as he returned.”

Your eyes turned cold again. “But that isn’t what happened.”

“It was a cowards choice to ask Rhys to be the one tell you, we know,” Azriel said with dismay. “But the concept of hurting you, of wounding our mate so deeply? It was unfathomable.”

“Its not an excuse,” Cassian added. “But we hope you can understand, there is an instinct there that twists our concept of what is wrong and right. Rhys understood that, it was the same instinct that kept him from telling Feyre about the risk of birthing Nyx. I think that’s why he volunteered to tell you, to protect us from something that would wound us so deeply.”

“We are learning, Y/N, and we are so sorry that we hurt you,” Azriel said, hazel eyes pinning you with their intensity. “But we are trying, and we will do better by you.”

You looked between the two of them, pulling your hands to your lap as your fingers trembled. It was just all so much. 

Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to say those words – I forgive you. 

You could see it, relief flooding the bond and breaking those solemn gazes, their embrace and warmth and scent surrounding you, fulfilling your primal desire. Their lips on yours, their hands on your body, yours on theirs, puling each other in and never letting go. There was a thrumming in your heart, a pulsing through your veins. It felt so right. 

But then you thought of the life you had made, the path you were forced to walk by yourself after what they had done. They had broken you completely, and you had put yourself back together, now stronger than ever. Your mission work, your life in Spring, the pain you endured and the scars that remained from doing it alone – it was a part of you now, and you could never let that go. 

You were at a cross roads – one path leading to the overwhelming promise of unconditional love that tempted your heart, the other promising freedom and choice and sense, tempting your head.

“What are you thinking?” Cassian asked, his voice soft from where he still sat, anxiously fidgeting with his hands. 

You took a deep breath. “That I am overwhelmed.”

Cassian nodded, and Azriel watched you before speaking softly. “That is understandable.”

You didn't have an answer for them, not even for yourself. 

“I don't know what to do,” you whispered. 

Cassian continued to nod, casting his eyes down sadly. “Whatever you decide, Y/N, we will do right by you.”

“Of course we dream of you accepting the bond, of becoming our mate, we won't deny that. But we want you to want it,” Azriel added. 

You gulped, anticipating the pain that would come from your next words. “And what if I decide to break the bond?”

Cassian’s head dropped as he let out a wrangled sob. Azriel’s shadows recoiled so fast they disappeared entirely. The latter gripped the chair, his knuckles white as he slipped into that place he so often had to as the Spy Master – a place where nothing could hurt him. “The choice is yours.”

“Please,” Cassian breathed out, tears streaming down his face. It was a plea, even the thought of the bond breaking unbearable to him. 

It unbearable for you too, and fresh tears slid down your face as your arms coiled tighter around the ache in your stomach. It would sicken you, perhaps almost kill the three of you. But it was what they deserved. 

You were exhausted, and keeping that wall up through the bond, stopping their emotions from tampering with your own – that alone had you begging for your bed. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said with a broken voice, guilt slipping through at the sight of the General sobbing before you.

Azriel put an arm around his brother, comforting him as best he could. “We know that, sweetheart. Of course we know that.”

You cast your eyes sideways as you blinked through more tears. “But I don't have an answer for you.”

Cassian nodded, running his hands over his face as he tried to collect himself. “Take your time,” he said after a few moments, his voice shaky and breaths forced. “We will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“And you don't need any more bargains from Rhys or Feyre,” Azriel added. “We will respect your privacy Y/N, any and all distance you might need. Let us prove that to you.”

You nodded then, forcing yourself to your knees despite the scream of protests in all of your muscles and joints. Gods, is this how the rest of your life would be, forever fighting a higher cause? Perhaps you’d go mad before you could ever hope to forgive them.

“I will…,” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “Good bye, Cassian and Azriel,” you forced out, your voice thick from the cry that begged at your throat. 

Cassian’s lip wobbled, and Azriel’s brow broke upwards as he spoke. “Take good care of yourself, Y/N.” 

Cassian’s head felt to his hands, and you forced yourself to close the doors behind you, quieting the sound of his cries. 

————

You spent three weeks at your Uncle’s cabin – mostly in bed and unspeaking, even to Finbark. He dotted over you, trying to pry you from your room to spend some time outside or eat a full meal. But that familiar pain had returned, that same weight that kept you bed bound for days in your old apartment. It was grief, in all shapes and kinds.

You hadn't broken the bond, but it was rejected good and proper for now. And it hurt so gods damned much. Your waking moments were consumed with the tug and pull of what was right, a constant reeling battle that exhausted you to every extent. 

The mission aid work carried on without you – you had a competent team of friends that you trusted to continue to provide care across Spring Court. You were grateful for their passion and dedication – while your desire to help others was unreachable in those moments, and you felt completely numb to what you once had thought was your life’s calling. You despised the bond for changing you so.

You wondered of the wild Geranium, if it had been harvested yet and if Tamlin or your team had made any progress on bottling its healing pigment. 

And there was pain and guilt when you thought of Tamlin too. You had hurt him – you were malicious in your anger and said so many things you hadn't meant. You weren't angry at him, not really. Your anger lied with the Mother and your mates, and you could not fault him for not wanting to complicate relations and involve himself where he knew he shouldn’t. He was true to his word – he was open and honest with you – and you had punished him for it. 

Tamlin hadn’t sent word, and you knew he was respecting the distance you sought, perhaps even licking his own wounds. So you would start there, apologise to him, and help just one person hurt less from the recoil of your poisonous mating bond. 

You sent word to his Manor, asking him to meet you in three days time. 

————

Tamlin was at the stables, brushing down his steed when you trotted up on Podie. 

He wore his riding pants again, boots to his knees, a shirt tucked in at his tight abdomen, strong forearms moving the brush gently across the horses back. You cursed the Mother that the sight of him didn't have the same effect on you as it had a few months prior – the bond chipping away at what you had once known to desire. 

Your heart did clench at the sight of him in a sorry way, his blond hair pulled back as he worked humbly. You had missed your friend dearly, and even the Mother could not stop you from feeling that.

Tamlin turned, his face neutral as he watched you approach, neither of you speaking. Green eyes followed your dismount, and you lingered for a moment before you rushed at him, wrapping your arms at his waist and burying your face into his chest. The scent of mountain dew and fresh cut grass filled your nose – gods you had missed that.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked before sobs overtook, muffled by his clothing. 

Tamlins arms were still in the air, shocked by your approach. But he loosed a breath, bringing them to hug you, rubbing soft circles on your back. 

Relief found you then, and you melted further into his touch. A sign of truce. “I’m so so sorry Tamlin.”

“Shhh, it’s alright Y/N. It’s alright.”

You shook your head, pulling away and looking up at him. “You were only trying to help, and I was so cruel. The things I said, I–”

Tamlin shook his head gently, hushing you. “I don't understand the instincts of a mating bond, but I do know what it is to say things out of anger.”

“I didn't mean them,” you swallowed with guilt.

He smiled softly. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “Please forgive me.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes playfully then, a smirk now on his lips. “I already had.” 

You tried to smile back, but it came out all wobbly, so Tamlin pulled you in again, swaying in a hug as he kissed the top of your head. 

After some lunch and a stroll through the gardens, he watched your carefully as you fingered the roses. 

“Do you know what you’ll do of the bond?”

You stiffened, your eyes not leaving the row of flowers before you. “No, I really don’t,” you said sadly. It was true, you hadn't a clue what to do next. 

Tamlin nodded.

After a deep sigh, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “But I do know what I want for my life. I want to continue my mission work, expand my horizons and work across Prythian. I suppose I need to approach the other High Lords, and harvest the Geranium if you’re still willing?”

Tamlin smiled, his eyes warm as he seemed to find relief. “It’s all yours.”

You nodded, smiling back. There was relief for you too – you recognised your old self in those words. Your passion to help others was still alive and strong – and that meant the cauldron hadn’t changed you beyond recognition, and if you fought hard enough, it couldn't if it tried.

“I’m so grateful to have you in my life, Tam,” you confessed, your chest swelling with sincerity.

Tamlin raised his brows in question. 

You gave a half smile. “You make me feel… like myself. No matter the circumstance.”

Tamlin’s face softened in a way that made you wonder how long it was since he was shown a genuine kind of love – especially after what happened with Hybern.

“You are wonderfully you, Y/N, with or without my help.”

“Always the humble High Lord,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “But I would not have made it this far without you. You’re my dearest friend.”

Tamlin reached and squeezed your hand. “You’re dear to me too, Y/N.”

You squeezed back, and you swore to yourself that the bond would not interfere in this friendship ever again. 

————

6 months later

The High Lords meeting was held in Dawn, in an impressive wide cast room, marble sprawled from floor to ceiling, glassless windows arched at every wall. All seven High lords and one High Lady seated at a wide-spanning table, a cartographic map of Prythian etched within the wood. 

Fingers tingling as you shook them out, and skirts kicking at your feet, you paced anxiously on the other side of the double doors to the meeting hall.

Today was the day you would propose your mission to expand refuge aid across the whole of Prythian, asking the High Lords to consider opening their borders and contributing resources and volunteers of their own. 

Your team had worked tirelessly to get to this point – the wild Geranium was now harvested and a new batch was already seeding, and you had worked for months on your proposal, researching natural resources, writing guidance sheets on how to train volunteers, identifying what each court had to contribute and when. 

The challenge that lay ahead of you now was to appeal to spectrum of powerful leaders waiting on the other side of those doors. You knew of their egos, of the rivalry and sensitivities between courts – this was no easy task.  

“Tamlin must certainly be a terrible lover if this is how wound up he leaves you.”

You threw a scowl over your shoulder, knowing that voice and whitewood scent. 

“And what of you, Eris? Waiting for daddy to finish his meeting like the good dog you are?”

Eris gave a half grin, one that didn't reach his eyes. He strolled over, leaning against the wall as he watched you try to calm yourself, delighting in your nerves. “Speaking of dogs, I heard your mates are cooped up at Night Court, the both of them suffering from wounded hearts.”

Your bared your teeth before you could think twice. Eris knowing that both Cassian and Azriel were your mates was dangerous, but the primal snarl had escaped you for that insult alone.

Eris’s eyes danced with satisfaction. “Oh, don't go feral on me now, Y/N. From what I hear, you haven't so much a secured the bond with a fuck.”

“I will–“ your hands curled into fists as you stalked up to the male, overcome with a shaking rage. 

But Eris stayed leaning, cleaning his nails with arrogant nonchalance as he cut you off. “I suppose they’ll have to satisfy each other instead, how sad.”

Your hand was raised, ready to strike, and fire glowed in Eris’s eyes. 

“Try that, girl, and your pathetic mission turns to dust. You can forget any allegiance from Autumn, and it’s likely others will back out too.”

You faltered, your arm swaying slightly. He was right – the prick. A sounding slap was not the way to heed your proposal.

He grinned with smug satisfaction as you lowered your arm and turned away. “Such a violent response from someone who preaches to only want to help others. Perhaps you’re not the peaceful messiah you claim to be, Y/N.”

“I’ve never had a problem defending what is mine,” you threw over your shoulder. “And my aid is offered to those in need, not to arrogant princelings, or lapdogs and the likes.”

A snarl tickled at Eris’s lips, and you were glad to have landed at least one blow, be it verbal. 

“You consider those overgrown bats yours?” he asked with distaste. “So it’s true then, about the bond?”

Blinking, you played back the words that had found you so naturally. Was that how you felt? 

Chewing on your lip, you decided to ignore Eris’s question. You would think of that later – you had a meeting to focus on, and you’d be damned if either the mating bond or Eris distracted you from it. 

You didn’t have time to throw a final insult his way before Thesan pulled the double doors open, eight pairs of eyes now set on you, and Eris no where in sight. 

“Y/N, we are ready for you,” Thesan said with a soft smile. 

You gulped before straightening yourself, stepping into the room and facing the most important moment of your entire existence, whether you were ready or not.

--------

Part 6>>>

AN: SURPRISE guest appearance by Eris ;) ;) ;) Hello hello lovelies, thank you so much for your patience on this part, I know it took a while ❤️  I am so so excited to finally explore a bit of Cazriel's perspective, and get their side to the story. I hope I've done all the characters justice so far! And there's still so much to explore – I am very keen to share the next part and see how this High Lords meeting goes down (let's face it, there will be TEA). As always, I LOVE hearing your thoughts and opinions on the fic, so pretty please drop me a comment or ask anytime! Hope you're all well and are taking care of yourselves too. MWAH!  ❤️  ❤️  ❤️ 

#acotar series #cazriel x fem reader #cazriel series #azriel x y/n #cassian x azriel x y/n #cassian x y/n #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cazriel x you #cazriel x reader #azriel angst #cassian angst #azriel mating bond #cassian mating bond #cazriel x mating bond #tamlin x reader #tamlin angst #acotar angst #acotar mating bond #eris x you #eris vanserra #azriel x cassian angst #acotar #acotarfanfic #acotar fandom

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 9

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: You awaken after being rescued by Azriel and Cassian.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Sliiiiight smut suggestions. Funeral/character death

AN: A few time jumps in this second last part to the series folks, hold on tight!

<<< Part 8

You heard sharp breaths leave their noses as you addressed them, each of them turning rigid. 

My mates. They had waited years for those words to fall from your lips so freely. 

Cassian groaned as he lifted himself on strong fists, Azriel already shuffling as they flanked you on either side, wings crammed into your bed, careful not to crush you. 

You offered one arm to each of them, your palms pressed into their too-big hands. Azriel blinked away the tears that stung at his eyes, raising your grazed knuckles and kissing at the sores and scars - a jarring reminder of what you had awoken from. 

Cassian was not one to miss out, and he slipped a muscled arm behind your neck, grasping at Azriel’s shoulder as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

You shuddered a breath, your insides warmed by the affection infiltrating the bond, relishing that feeling of home, of belonging. 

“You are both well? Healed?” you rhasped, your voice barely there. Azriel frowned, immediately reaching for a glass of water and bringing it to your lips. 

“Yes, sweets, we’re alright,” Cassian used a knuckle to brush away the stray drop of water that rolled down your chin. “How is your pain?”

You meant to answer, but Azriel replaced the glass of water with something cold and metallic. Flicking your eyes from the thermometer now pressed against your tongue, it was instinct to scowl up at the Shadowsinger. 

“Really?” you muttered through a full mouth. 

Hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully traced that thin red line. “You’re fighting an infection, love.”

A gentle pull on your chin forced your focus back to Cassian, his eyes warmed with humour at the exchange between his mates. You supposed it was nice, to slip into a reaction so natural, something that had been amiss for years. 

“Your pain?” he pressed.

You shrugged as Azriel gently pulled the thermometer away, shaking it once, twice. Fatigue was heavy on your bones, and your head was throbbing, likely from that infection they mentioned. But the wound at your heart was a dull ache, and you had healed well all things considered. Pealing back the covers, you lifted your nightgown, eying the scar that now ran beside your left breast. 

You were there in an instant, the clang of that awful sword and Beron’s roar in your ears, impending death looming as you remembered the pure dread that consumed you for days. 

You stiffened, eyes turning distant as your mouth quivered with an instant need to cry out. 

Azriel thumbed your lip, cooing softly. “It’s alright my love, you are safe now. You’re ok.”

You drew a long, shaking breath. There would be along road ahead to recover as Beron’s prisoner, that much was clear. 

“Where is he?” you asked with a small voice. 

“Imprisoned, just as you asked.” Cassian's reply was soft as he gently played with a lock of your limp hair.

“And Lucien is…?”

Your mates met each other’s eyes, before your hands were back in theirs, held tightly. 

“I’m sorry my love,” Azriel whispered. Leaning closer, he nudged the bridge of his nose to your crown, pressing closer with comfort.

You swallowed, nodding as tears rolled down your cheeks. That poor male – loyal and kind and better than most. Your heart ached for Feyre and Tamlin. 

“The others?”

“Everyone is safe and well. Beron’s army yielded when he was dragged from the dungeon, and the Illyrians have returned to the camps. Eris is in the process of assuming his role as High Lord – Beron was forced to abdicate by his own council.”

“Tamlin stayed to help mend the damage from the battle. He’s had help from a group of aides and healers,” Cassian added with a smile. 

The smile you forced was barely there, only the corners of your lips turning as your eyes still hung heavy. Your friends, the volunteers - of course they had come. And Tamlin, fighting alongside Illyrians? It was an overwhelming thought. 

There was so much to do, so much to say. But fatigue weighed heavy on your mind and body alike, even your power was impossible to drag up from within. Grieving, celebrating, helping those to heal – it would all have to wait. 

And then there were your mates – confessions and pleas of honesty begging to be unravelled in a mess of emotions you did not yet understand.

Without notice, tears began spilling from your cheeks, rolling down your chin in a the trail down to your chest. 

“You found me,” you whispered hoarsely.

Azriel was wiping at your chin, and Cassian’s lips were at your crown as he replied. “And you fought for us.”

“I was so scared,” you whispered again, your voice wobbling with a half-sob. 

“So were we,” Azriel added softly. 

You blinked between them, a wrangled laugh escaping. It was exhausting, the instant switch between fear, then relief, then grief, then relief again. 

“I think I’m going mad,” you admitted, wiping at your face while you relished in the safety of having your mates by your side. 

“That’s understandable, love,” Azriel smiled softly, eyeing you closely, reading each micro expression with understanding. 

“Besides,” Cassian smirked. “You already were half-mad.”

Another laugh huffed through your chest, heavy and thick with illness. Cassian was grinning, before pecking at your knuckles with affection. The soft thud of Azriel’s heart fastened, and you could sense his joy through the bond as he watched you two. 

Lashes fluttered as sleep tugged at you, but you were reluctant to give in. Time was sacred, you knew that now. 

Azriel’s eyes caught Cassian’s with a quick nod, and it was the later who stood to fetch a vial, the popping of a cork pricking your ears.

Azriel forced your chin to him. “Something Madja has prepared to help with the fever.” There was that sternness in his eyes, a familiar one that he used when anticipating stubbornness. Given you record in refusing medicine, you couldn't blame him. But you wouldn't fight them today – you couldn't if you wanted to. 

The medicine was bitter, but you drank it willingly as Cassian tipped the glass at your lips with gentle hand at the back of your head, Azriel’s watchful eyes tracking each swallow and ensuring the bottle was emptied. 

You rolled your eyes at his keen eye, before settling back into your pillows. 

“I saw that.”

Eyes falling closed thanks to the quick working effects of the medicine, you couldn’t hide your smirk was you wordlessly muttered ‘overbearing mother hens’ through the bond. You knew it worked from Cassian’s snort from the other side of the room, and Azriel’s glow of pride at your use of the bond, despite the message cast through it.

Callused fingers stroked your hair before your pillows were being moved from under you. You blinked up at Cassian as he towered over, helping you recline further. “Go to sleep sweetheart, we’ll be hear when you wake up.” 

It was lulling to hear, and you let your eyes close again, grateful for the comfort of the bed and grateful for your mates – that each of you had made it out alive. 

As sleep almost pulled you under, your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up with rational quickness. “Where even are we?”

Your mates chuckled, Azriel pressed you back into the bed as he shook his head. “Still in Autumn love, but you’re safe.”

“That much I know” you muttered drowsily, sarcasm lacing through as you danced with sleep. 

“Do you just?”

You yawned, your words slow as you sighed. “I know I’m safe with you.”

You were already asleep before the wave of adoration careening through the bond could reach you. 

————

Eris’s voice cut through the oak door, greeting you into the room. 

Auburn locks shined in the fire-lit room as Eris stood on a low stool, facing an ornate mirror as tailors worked at his suit. It was a fine thing – orange and yellows embroidered with tasteful gold leafs. One tailor worked on his sleeve, while the other was busy bent at the cuff of his pants. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, Y/N. Just some finishing touches before tomorrow’s coronation. Perhaps we might be excused?” 

The tailors stepped away then, taking their supplies with them as they bowed to their future High Lord. 

Eris stepped down, stopping a few steps shy from you, fiery eyes casting you up and down. 

Originally, that kind of look would have beckoned your own power together within, threatening to zap with petty distaste. But without Beron, Eris was revealed as his true self. Cunning, sure, but also generous, caring, and much smarter than he had ever let on. 

“You look well,” he offered. 

“Because I’m not cloaked like a pumpkin,” you nodded to his flashy suite. 

Eris feigned offence with a hand to his chest. “You don't like my coronation suit?”

You snorted, and Eris grinned back. You were toying with each other as you always had, but now without the need for blood. 

“It’s lovely, actually. It screams of wealth, but has tasteful detail. Whoever designed it must know you well.”

“If I didn't know any better Y/N, I’d take that as a compliment.”

You pulled your lips in a sideways smile, eyebrows raised. “You did save my life.”

Eris stoped, his smile fading as his eyes blinked down just once. “I also might have damned you.”

You shook your head. “That wasn't your fault.”

A beat of silence.

“Y/N, I’m sorry my fath–"

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Eris, don’t. That is not for you to apologise for.”

Eris’s lips pulled into a thin line, guilt and grief weighing heavy on the male, the bags under his eyes yet deeper than you had ever seen. 

Composing himself, he nodded to a settee facing the the sprawling autumn forest, magnificent reds, yellows and greens muted by night. 

You moved to join him, eyes dancing at the tree tops. “Tomorrow will be…” you started. 

“A big day,” he finished, leaning his elbows on his knees. 

Eris wasn’t wrong. Here at the castle would be Lucien’s memorial, followed by Eris’s coronation. And on the other side of the court, Beron’s execution - all carefully arranged on the same day. It was a distraction of Beron’s dark reign, an insult to all that he had tried to conquer, and a honour to Lucien to celebrate life and moving forward. Beron would die alone, and Lucien’s legacy would be celebrated amongst many.

“Will Serafina be there?” 

He nodded, rubbing his hands together with tension. “Yes, she couldn't stand the thought of being there when my father…” 

Eris trailed off, but you nodded anyway. “I wish I could say the same for Helion. He’s overseeing the…event.” My father’s execution - he couldn't bring himself to say.

You bit your lip, nodded slowly. Azriel and Cassian had asked which events you wished to attend, perhaps all three, or none at all. You felt a strong need to be at the memorial and coronation, but had little interest in seeing Beron die, no matter what he had done to harm you an your mates. The males had agreed to accompany you, but you felt the urge they resisted to witness Beron’s death. It seemed Helion had felt the same, especially with his involvement in seeing securing Beron’s fate. You couldn't blame him, for all the years he had held his mate enslaved to his schemes.

“Helion will miss your ceremony, then?”

Eris lifted tired eyes to you. “I don't think he’ll ever forgive me for the life my mother was forced to live.”

“You were born into this, Eris, your own life was on the line. You were his child.”

“I’ve been fully grown for centuries now, Y/N. If I had been braver, my mother wouldn’t have had to suffer for the centuries she did. And Lucien…,” Eris choked at the name of his brother, shoulders stiffening before jerking with sobs. 

You watched with sorrow, moving gently to place a hand at his back, warmth spreading immediately at your palm. 

“They despise me, all of them. Helion, Feyre, Tamlin, Rhys, perhaps even my own mother. They see me for the coward I am.”

You cleared your throat, choosing your words carefully. “The beginning of your reign as High Lord will be an trialling time for you, I won’t deny that. But there were so many who could have stopped Beron, and so many that that didn’t. It wasn't your burden to bear alone.” 

Eris blinked, a shaken breath escaping him as he gained some control. “I suppose I will always be the High Lord that was too late.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Perhaps. But you will also be the High Lord who makes sure to leave a better legacy, to never leave things too late again.”

Eris ran curious brown eyes down your frame – so unfamiliar with the comfort you had just provided. 

“Azriel and Cassian are couldren-blessed to have someone like you.” 

You stiffened then. “I don't suppose they have me, Eris.”

Eris blinked, before his faced dropped. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did not mean to offend.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s ok, Eris. You are learning.” 

He ran bony fingers through his cropped auburn locks. “I only meant to convey that I admire you.”

You shrugged. “I am quite incredible.”

Eris’s laugh was raspy with relief. There was a quiet moment between you, the only sound the crackle of the fireplace. 

“Will you be there, tomorrow?” Eris did nothing to hide the hope in his eyes. 

You placed a gentle hand over his. “I’ll be one of many. Rhys and Feyre will be there too.”

“They’re coming?”

“I’m not sure people hold as much resentment to you as you do yourself, Eris. I think most just want to look forward, to a better world.”

Eris swallowed then, curbing the lump in his throat that threatened again. “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your kindness.”

You rose then, smoothing your skirts. “All the best for tomorrow, Eris. At the very least, you’ll look dashing.”

Eris found his old self then, extending his arms to admire the suite once more. “That I will,” he grinned, before reaching for your hand, and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Should you feel the need to reject two Illyrians for one handsome High Lord,” he joked with a flash of teeth. 

You snatched your hand back, eyes rolling with a smirk. “Don’t ever let Azriel or Cassian hear you joke like that,” you threw over your shoulder, sealing Eris’s chuckle and closing the door behind you.

————

Lucien’s memorial was devastatingly beautiful. 

Without a body, there was no coffin, cremation or grave. Instead, a bronzed statue was erected in the gardens of the Autumn castle, and rows of fae from all courts gathered to watch it be raised. 

It was Eris who spoke from the podium, Serafina’s weeps heard by all as she clung to Hellion who kept a strong arm around his mate. 

“I want to thank you all for coming here today to honour the life of my youngest bother, Lucien. He was taken from us in a selfish and cowardly act by my father, used as a sacrifice to hone evil. A crime that contradicts my brother’s very essence, for with every fibre of his being, Lucien was good.” 

“Lucien was kinder than most, a generous, forgiving male who uplifted others and sought good for the world. I regret to have dismissed him for so long, and that I may never tell him just how much I admired his courage. As High Lord of this court, I will ensure that his legacy continues, that he lives forever in bronze in these gardens, but also as a celebrated hero and vital part of the Autumn dynasty.”

“To properly commemorate his life, I invite someone who was a truer brother to Lucien, more than I ever was.” 

Eris stepped from the podium, placing a sure hand on Tamlin’s shoulder before moving to the queues. 

You could see the tremor in your friends hands as he placed his papers down, fingers gripping to the podium to steady himself. Pressing your lips tightly, you knew the wave of emotion Tamlin would need to push through to address all of these people, and tribute Lucien in honour. Your heart ached for him further.

Feyre’s sniffing pricked your ears from beside you where Rhys held her, and as you dabbed a few of your own stray tears, a wave of reassurance was sent from your mates who sat a few rows back, catching the movement. 

“Lucien was more than an honourable male.” Tamlin began, his voice strong, commanding of the crowd. “He understood what it was to be truly loyal, to see the good amongst the bad, to make others feel at home when he didn't have one of his own.” 

“He taught me compassion, sensibility, gratitude and love. He was a better leader than I could ever hope to be, without even trying.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you felt an overwhelming amount of pride for Tamlin as he cast those sharp green eyes across the crowd. 

“He was a loving son and friend,” he said with a nod to Serafina. “And while he endured more hardship than any of us deserve, his wit and humour prevailed.”

A few chuckles from the crowd and murmurs of agreement. A tattooed hand found yours then, and Feyre squeezed you as you smiled at each other through tears. 

“Many might not know that Lucien used that wit to free us of Amarantha’s reign. It was his keen eye to observe those around him, that brilliant mind and sincere care for others that lead Feyre to my court, and to eventually break the curse. He helped us every step of the way, risking his life countless times under the mountain, because he understood what was at stake, and what was the greater good.”

Tamlin had paused, taking a shaky breath. “Lucien was the brother I never deserved, and I will never stop loving him.” 

Tear stained tracks shone on Tamlin’s cheeks.

“It is our duty to ensure he has not died in vain, to learn from his legacy of acceptance, patience and kindness. If each of us hone just a fraction of the honour that he spread so freely, Prythian will be stronger for it.” 

“And when your children ask to hear the heroic tales of friends and foes alike, tell them of Lucien – the male with no home, that lead with his heart instead.” 

When Tamlin returned to his seat as Serafina stood to reveal the statue beneath the cloth. Hundreds of fae cried and cheered, and you reached for Tamlin’s hand, holding him tightly with your head on his shoulder, grieving and celebrating with your truest friend. 

————

1 week later

“Where have you bought me, my love?”

Azriel emerged from the thick of the Autumn forest, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. 

“A little clearing I discovered on a walk,” you smiled from where you waited patiently, hands behind your back. The picnic was set with bread, cheese and berries, and you offered a glass of wine to your mate as he approached. 

He took it with a raised brow, leaning down to kiss your cheek before taking a sip. 

“You are well?” he asked, noting the blush in your cheeks, sending relief through the bond that colour had at last returned to your face. 

“I am,” you smiled broadly.

Before you could ask how Azriel was, the beat of Cassian’s wings sounded, and leaves danced in a gust of wind as he landed on one strong knee. 

“Well isn't this romantic,” he grinned as he stood, stalking over to pick you up, twirling as he squeezed you tight.

While Cassian had business to attend to back in Illyria, both of the males had been keeping their distance while you rested at the Autumn castle. They checked in of course, and Azriel had winnowed back a few times to see you - but they were respectful of your space, waiting for your direction, feeling for your comfort levels along the way. 

Cassian approached Azriel then, a strong hand finding his chiselled jaw as he kissed his mate deeply. 

Immediately flustered, you busied yourself by pouring Cassian a glass of wine as overwhelming desire and longing for each other coursed through the bond after days spent apart. You forced your eyes elsewhere - you hadn't kissed either of them yet, certainly not like that. 

They moved to join you on the blanket you had set, Cassian taking his wine with a thank you and plopping a few berries in the each of your glasses. 

“I’ve missed you both,” you said with a shy smile. It was true, having them both here, it eased the strain of your heart that lingered at the distance. It also revealed desires you hadn't known were there. You wanted to bask in their presence, to hold them tight and never let them go. To tear your clothes of and press their naked skin to yours, feel the heat of them warm through you… Gods, this bond!

Azriel and Cassian shared a coy chuckle as they sensed your lust, and a scarred hand found your knee while Cassian lounged casually, wings sprawling. 

“We missed you too,” Azriel answered with a boyish smirk, before it turned sincere. “Thank you for bringing us together, my love.”

Cassian was already munching on the bread as he offered you a wedge of cheese, speaking with a full mouth. “What marks the occasion, princess?” 

You took the food, chewing thoughtfully before setting your glass down. Hazel eyes tracked your every move, Cassian’s on the clouds as casual hands were bought behind his head. 

“Well, I suppose I wanted to discuss us.”

You saw Cassian’s chest holt, before he sat up, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m fully healed now, and I think it’s time I left Autumn.” 

Azriel was stiff. “Will you be coming back to Velaris?” he asked with forced softness. 

You swallowed once, twice. “No.”

Azriel took a deep breath before nodding slowly, Cassian’s smile fading into something sad, while affection still warmed those brown eyes. 

“We understand,” he offered, his large hand covering yours. 

“I suppose a better answer is, not yet,” you added, squeezing Cassian’s hand in yours. You felt their lick of excitement through the bond. 

“I love you both, I do. But I don't know where I want to live, where I want to call home. All I know is that I want to continue my mission, help provide aide for more courts. Beron’s death has created so many opportunities, the courts have never been so aligned. There is much work to do - and I will dedicate myself to it. This is my purpose.”

Azriel’s smile was genuine under the tears in his eyes. “I am so proud of you.”

You sent a wave of warmth down the bond. “Thank you, Az.”

Cassian was leaning on his knees now, facing the both of you. “Wherever you want to be, Y/N, we’ll be there too.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I won't ask you to leave Velaris, to give up your roles in the Night Court.”

Your mates exchanged a look.

“We would, you know.” Azriel husk was just more than a whisper.

“We’d follow you anywhere,” Cassian added. 

You smiled, your eyes cast down as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. With a quick breath, you placed a hand on each of their thighs. 

“I don't want that, and neither do you. Please hear me when I say I love you both, and I’m learning to forgive you for what happened with Alvar. But I’m not ready to be so…”

“Mated?”

You smiled turned broken. “Yes, mated.”

Azriel had picked up your hand, toying with it before moving scarred fingers to intertwine with yours. “Wherever you want to be,” he repeated Cassian’s words. “We support you.”

You blinked the tears that threatened then, forcing that pinnacle question past your lips. “Would you wait?” For me, for us - you didn't add.

“Of course,” Cassian said instantly, frowning with slight insult. 

“Without a second thought.” Azriel added, his lips now brushing your knuckles.

It was true, honest love that surged through the bond then, from all three sides. 

You huffed with relief. “Then I will return to my life in Spring Court.”

“Perhaps we could visit?” Cassian asked.

You didn't need to think on the offer. “I would love that,” you beamed. “And I will travel often enough with my work – and will visit you too.”

Azriel let out a small whine of relief, and Cassian grinned, moving to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. 

“We love you Y/N,” he murmured into your ear, planting a kiss to your neck. “We will make this work.”

You reached towards the Shadowsinger, pulling him towards you, relishing in the comfort of their arms wrapped tight around you. You were safe, they were safe. You were happy, they were happy. 

For the first time in years, you felt true happiness in all avenues of life. 

Cassian and Azriel were kissing above your head, the sound of their kiss igniting something in your bounds as you were pressed between them. That primal urge to consummate your mating bond churned within you, and you were suddenly flushed with desire, aware of how your own pupils dilated. 

Raising to your knees, your hands found a place on both of their chests as they broke away, eyeing you. 

You leaned towards Cassian, eyes flicking down to his still-wet lips swollen from Azriel’s kiss. Ever so gently, you lay a peck to his mouth. 

Cassian whimpered as you pulled away, his eyes fluttering open and stalking you as you moved to Azriel and did the same. 

Wings twitched from behind the Shadowsingers head, and shadows instantly flooded around you.

Pulling away, you couldn't help the toying grin that pulled at your mouth. Azriel's chest heaved, and Cassian’s brows were pulled in desperation. 

“Please,” the later begged. “Do that again.”

Your heart lurched, your insides throbbing even more intensely than before. Gods, you wanted them. But you would have to be careful with how you would approach the bond while living on different sides of Prythian. 

“I’m conscious,” you breathed, taking a moment to regain composure. “I’m conscious not to enlighten the bond any further.”

Cassian growled, but Azriel threw him a quick glare. “You’re yet to seal the bond on your end.”

“I know,” you breathed, resisting every urge to ask your mates to eat the remaining berries from your bare hands and ride them into the sunset. “But I don't want to make things anymore difficult than they need to be. I have no interest in torturing you any further. Sex might complicate things, it can bind us further, making the distance that much harder to bare.”

Cassian groaned. “Please don't say harder.”

You and Azriel shared a chuckle as he strained in his pants. 

“It’s a kind thought, my love. And I think you’re right,” Azriel agreed with a stroke to your face, then a strong hand on Cassian’s shoulder that seemed to say compose yourself.

Cassian cleared his throat, and through gritted teeth said “We can wait.”

A wicked smile reached your eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

Cassian all but tackled you, nipping at your ear with a playful growl. “Don’t tease.”

You laughed freely then, his breath tickling your ear.

Azriel was still stiff where he sat. 

“Az,” you asked. “Will you be alright?”

Hazel eyes flicked down you in a way that made you shudder. “I just have on request.”

You smiled. “Yes?”

“Kiss me again.”

You were smiling as you lurched forward, strong arms catching you as you pressed your lips on his. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon in that clearing with your mates, kissing them, holding them, discussing the logistics of the next steps of your mateship, and falling back in love with the two males that always had your heart.

————

3 years later

The three years since you had rekindled your relationship with Azriel and Cassian had been the happiest of your life. 

Your mates would visit often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. And when your work called you to the Night Court or close by, you visited them in Velaris, spending time with your old family too. You relationships were healing amongst the Inner Circle, and you were glad to feel at home again while still returning to your life in Spring Court. 

You had worked furiously hard to bring your aide work across Prythian. Beron’s death saw a shift in response to sharing resources, and your vision of aide without borders gained traction. With hundreds of healers and the likes now working for your charity - your mission was funded and supported by all seven courts. 

The little foxes, you now called yourselves, in honour of Lucien Vanserra and his legacy of honour. Each court had specially built ‘dens’, where fae in need could seek help, and where aide was dispatched to support across all courts. 

It was incredibly hard work that took the years you gave yourself, with many sleepless nights, and sometimes longer periods spent away from your mates. But it was successful, the cogs of your strategies came to life. 

You were overwhelmingly proud, and fulfilled for the first time in your life. Happiness was a plentiful beacon around you, and you felt yourself healing every day.

You spent spare time learning to harness your magic. Seeking experts across the continent, you learned to hone that powerful current, understanding your limits, your emotions, when to yield and when to take. You learnt new ways of using it, lighting fires or fuelling pressing mills, hunting large supplies of fish when food was in need. In those years, you had learned to help others in ways you never new possible. It was as if you were finally coming to life. 

Your heart was full – you had taken control of your life once more, working in boundaries that helped you thrive. And it was with that full, healthy heart that you forgave your mates, little by little, day by day. 

————

Mor let out a high-pitched squeel, shaking as she read the golden card in her hand, envelope floating to the floor as she bounced from foot to foot. 

“What is it?” Feyre asked from her desk, the High Lady buried in paper work.

“They’ve called it!”

“Called what?” Feyre asked with wide eyes, bewildered at Mor’s reaction. 

Snatching the card from the giddy blond’s hand, Feyre read the sparkling, cursive writing. Tears instantly brimmed at Feyre’s eyes as she met Mor’s lovesick smile.

Finbark Eversgreen requests the honour of your attendance to celebrate the marriage of Y/N, Cassian and Azriel.

Saturday, 2nd week of the third season.

The ceremony will be held at the Southern Spring Lake at dusk.

“Rhys! Come quick!”

————

AN: Ahhhh I hope you liked this lead up to the finale!! It was a pleasure to write the abundance of healing going around for all these characters!! The next part will focus on the wedding - but I'm always keen to hear what else you guys might want to see too. All in all, I'm actually excited to wrap up Our Girl tbh. It's sitting at 50,000 words so far and has been a really big piece for me! So thanks for joining me along the way. If you want to join the tag list for the finale, or any of my other stuff, drop and comments and let me know which one :) Much love!!! Nic

#acotar series #cazriel series #azriel x cassian x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x cassian x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar angst #acotar #cassian angst #azriel x cassian x you #cazriel x y/n #cazriel x fem reader #cazriel x you #cazriel mating bond #mating bond #eris vanserra #eris x reader #tamlin x reader #lucien vanserra #rhysand and feyre #azriel fluff #cassian fluff #cazriel fluff #unrequited love #acotar injured reader #poly!batboys #poly!acotar

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 6

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Violence, character death

<<< Part 5

“Y/N, we are ready for you,” Thesan said with a soft smile. 

You swallowed as you entered the decadent marble room, the binder under your arm almost bursting with hundreds of papers of research you collated.

Several powerful sets of eyes fell on you, and you forced your own forward, fighting the instinct to cast them low in respect. You were doing this for Prythian, for all fae – they should feel honoured for the opportunity, not you.

With smiles from Tarquin and Tamlin, you took the seat Thesan withdrew for you – the tall, regal shape foreign as it pressed to your back.

Rhysand and Feyre sat opposite, their eyes warm beneath their gaze. But you were too preoccupied to meet it.

“And since when are we in the business of inviting commoners to these meetings? I won't share my table with court-crossing whores.”

You let out a tired breath, your patience for the male ego completely diminished over the past years. 

“I suppose you’ve excused that every time one of your sons has sat for these meetings, Beron?” 

The words had left your mouth before you could stop them. 

Beron’s eyes widened, his face flushing red, and a few snorts and stifled laughs could be heard across the table. 

Fuck – you could kiss Autumn’s allegiance goodbye. You would have to be a lot less impulsive if you were to make it out of this meeting alive.

"I will not–" Beron began, his hands curling into fists.

“Oh calm yourself Beron, you had no right to insult her in the first place.” Tarquin was grinning at you – ever the loyal friend. You gave him a tight smile to say thanks. 

“And if you’re wondering who invited her here, you can steer your anger towards me,” Tamlin spoke smoothly, intertwining his fingers as he placed his solid arms on the table, meeting Beron’s glare with confidence.

“I for one, would like to hear what Y/N has to say,” Feyre added, with a confident nod to you.

It seemed you had an alliance at play all along.  

With clear of your throat, you opened your binder, rolling out a detailed map of Prythian and with it months of research on each of the courts. You took a breath, and began the proposal you and your team had spent weeks perfecting. 

“You may have heard of aid work spreading across Spring in light of the aftermath of the war. My team and I have worked tirelessly to support vulnerable communities across the court, providing food, medicine and shelter for those devastated by Hybern.”

“Spring Court only suffered devastation because of its alliance with Hybern in the first place,” Kallias interrupted, followed by a murmur of agreements.

Tamlin straightened. “I acknowledge my court was left at Hybern's mercy due to my decisions. But Y/N has worked despite of that – and it’s what makes her work so important.”

“In what way?” Thesan asked. 

“A courtless ambition,” you affirmed. “A team of volunteers – made from all courts, for all courts. Resources provided from across Prythian, shared equally to help those in need despite what throne they serve.”

There was a moment of silence, before Beron sounded a loud snort. 

“Don't trust her for one second,” he scoffed, pointing a finger at you. “She’s been hauled up in Spring Court for over a year now. No doubt this is a ruse to have us open our borders. She’ll be free to rob our people and lands, all the while fucking her handsome High Lord.”

“Watch how you speak of her,” Rhysand growled, night crawling across the table, the purple in his eyes all but gone. 

You had to interject before this meeting finished as quickly as it started. “I assure you, this mission has no binding to Spring Court. It is to exist without borders so we may help anyone in need, and travel with ease to provide urgent care.”

Beron ignored Rhysand and instead cold eyes to you, his lips curling with distaste. “And you believe we need your help?” he spat. “The fae of Spring are weak. My subjects are well cared for, and my court is thriving.”

Gods, you could see where Eris got it from.

“According to my research, inflation in your court is a second close to Spring, and displacement is rising with little access to healers after you centralised them during the war.”

Beron’s face flushed an even deeper red than before, his eyes turning to a murderous cold and your stomach twisted with both fear and delight. 

“There is not one court here that is in a position to refuse this kind of offer,” Tarquin said with sweeping calm, silencing Beron before he could bubble over. “We would do well to not let our pride stop an ambition of this size.”

“Y/N,” he added, turning to you. “I admire the work you have done in Spring, Tamlin has testified and frankly sung much high praise. If you might show me your plans of what role Summer Court could play in your mission, I would be happy to come to an agreement to provide volunteers and resources.”

You swallowed, your heart swelling. You had no doubt Tarquin would offer his allegiance, but it was a milestone all the same. “Thank you, Tarquin.”

“My mate and I would like to offer the allegiance of the Night Court. We would be honoured for your help,” Feyre’s face strong and stern, but you knew them well enough to feel the waves of pride from both her and Rhys. 

“Consider Day Court an ally too,” Hellion beamed, trusting of Feyre’s alliance to now make his own. “We have some of the oldest practicing healers – if you can help spread their knowledge across our lands, it will help us to grow stronger as a continent, and perhaps more resistant should we face another invasion in future.” 

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head gratefully to the High Lords and Lady around you. 

“You’re all fools,” Beron spat, pushing up from his chair. “And I won't stand to watch you place the fate of our lands in the hands of a traitor, let alone a woman.”

A series of snarls sounded as claws of all kinds shot out. Tamlin’s hands shook as he gripped the tables edge, Tarquin’s scraped at his chair, and Rhys’s tapped with threatening impatience. 

“Your mind betrays you, Beron,” Feyre spoke coldly, a cruel smile at play on her lips. “Because despite countless centuries in this world, you and your seven sons couldn't hope to accomplish as much as this female has in just a few years. You’re embarrassed. You feel she emasculates you.”

You didn't have a moment to gawk before Beron launched at you, his fist in your hair as he ripped you backwards in your chair. Droplets of his disgusting spit landing their mark as he snarled down at you. “You mark my words you sly bitch. You may have everyone wrapped around you finger, but step one foot in my court and I’ll–”

Guards had pulled Beron from you before he could finish his sentence. They hardly had to escort him as he shook their grip, storming from the room and slamming the doors behind him. 

With red cheeks and a slight shake of your hands, you took Tarquins offer to help you stand.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

You offered a single nod, too stunned to know truly. Was this how the High Lords settled business?

You straightened your skirts and took your seat once again.

“I do hate it when he gets like that,” Tarquin said more loudly, feigning a bored sigh and hiding a comforting hand on your thigh beneath the table.

“For your knowledge Y/N, there are rules that we must not to lay hands on another High Lord or Lady, not without consequence. I suppose that’s why he launched at you,” Thesan explained, willing a glass of water in front of you and giving you a sorry smile.

You took a shaky sip, barely having a moment to register the silent exchange between Tamlin, Feyre and Rhys. Whatever their stern expressions meant, you knew Beron was in deep, deep shit. 

The rest of the meeting went smoothly – you convinced Thesan and Kallias to consider your proposal, and agreed to meet with them in future after they took some time to study your plans in more detail. In total you had four courts agree, two remained uncertain, and one definite no. It was overwhelming result, and you were riddled with both excitement and anxiousness at the thought of expanding your mission to not just one, but three new courts.

As the meeting adjourned, you found yourself thinking of Eris, and couldn't help but feel empathetic. You may have an unwelcome bond binding you to the two males who broke your heart, but at least your future wasn't dictated by someone as hideous as Beron. Eris would never be that free.

You spent your evening writing to the other volunteers and your uncle, and preparing plans and strategies to begin work in Summer. It would be beneficial to start there, to have more experienced healers on board. 

There was a soft rap at your door, and Feyre’s blossom-like scent floated through the gaps. 

Quill now mid-air, your heart fastened with momentary worry. But you took a breath - it was just a conversation, you could grant her that. After all, there were many more meetings with her and Rhys to come if you hoped to expand to the Nigh Court successfully. You'd also likely need to return to the Night Court yourself…

Stopping your spiral of thoughts, you cleared your throat. “Come in,” you called, placing your quill down and turning in your seat. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No no. Please, come in,” you gestured.

She strode with confidence, dark drapes of her dress flowing behind as they sparkled like the Velarian sky you hadn't realised you longed for. “I won't stay long, I just wanted to tell you that you were incredible today.” Those grey eyes pinned you with sincerity, before fluttering with a sideways glance.  “And perhaps I’m also here to see how you’re fairing after the meeting. I’m sorry, I didn't think Beron…"

You huffed humorously, your head cocking down as you let out sound of exasperation. “Gods, he truly is as awful as they say.”

“Yes,” Feyre said with a stifled grin, her head shaking. “He really is.”

“Thank you, for defending me. Your response to him… it was–"

“Too much, probably.”

“Insidiously epic.” You were grinning.

Feyre laughed now, swinging one leg over the other before fingering a nearby trinket. “You know I can't resist the opportunity to toy with a male like that.”

You matched her smile, warmed by the mischievous look. The exchange was genuine and comfortable, fun even – exactly how your friendship had been for so many years.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Feyre.”

Feyre’s eyes softened, a small but sad smile finding her lips. “Of course.”

You looked at your hands then, fidgeting with them in your lap. You had to ask, you just had to. 

“How are they?”

Feyre didn't falter. “Well enough. Cassian has been training a new generation of Illyrians to regrow our army, and Azriel has been busy with his work in Hybern.”

Your eyes were distant as you thought about them, separated by work. Azriel was still undertaking missions in Hybern? Was there truly more secrets to unravel there? Gods, the thought alone made you wince in pain, that whole damned continent a waking reminder of Meryl and everything you had lost. You knew Azriel would be tortured by the same cycle of thoughts on those lands.

“They work hard,” you offered with pulled brows, not really knowing what else to say. 

“Just like someone else I know.” Feyre’s pained smile soft yet full of suggestion. She might as well have said it – they’re not the only ones burying their pain in work. You supposed she was right, you had set a stellar example at that.

“But they’re doing better, really,” she added, resuming natural movement and surrendering you from her gaze. “They’re healthier, and they look after one another.” 

Your lips pulled into a small smile. “I’m glad.” And you meant it. 

Feyre had matured over the past year – you could see it in her poise, hear it in her voice. It was a nice thing to see, to watch a fellow immortal grow in such ways.

“I will leave you to your planning.” She stood then, her incredible dress sweeping the floor once more.

Pausing by the doorway, Feyre turned to you. “Rhys and I are so honoured to have your work come to our court, even with the challenges to be faced with the Council. You should be proud, Y/N. We certainly are.”

You nodded, your lips pulling in a smile that twitched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. I’ll send a letter to meet soon, and we can discuss plans then.”

“We look forward to it.” Feyre’s smile was warm and true.

“As do I.” And so was your own.

————

“Are you sure you wouldn't like to wait a few more days? We could journey back together.”

You rolled your eyes, securing your bag to Podie as Tamlin fussed behind you, tightening the knots. 

“I must get back and help the team start the expansion. I don't have a few days to spare.”

“I know, I just… worry for you.”

You snorted then, hauling yourself to your horse. “I journeyed here myself, you know.”

Tamlin sighed, reaching to stroke Podie’s mane. “I know. I just, I’m not sure, I have a feeling–“

“You’re fussing.”

“No, I have a feeling.”

“A feeling of fussing?”

Tamlin pinched his nose then. “I don't know why I try,” he muttered. 

You grinned. “I’ll see you in two weeks time, Tam.” With a gentle nudge to Podie’s sides, you started the long journey home.

Never mind that Tamlin had found you shortly after Feyre left your room last night. Never mind that he searched you over for any signs of injury that Beron might have left, or that he distracted you jokes and conversation and stiff drink on your balcony that lead to welcomed sleep. You would certainly not think about the way his deep hushed voice soothed you until your eyes closed, or that he knew exactly how to stroke your hair as he comforted you after the things Beron had said, long after you had stopped responding. 

When you had woken he was gone, so this time apart would serve you well to clear your head and re-establish those murky lines of love and friendship, desire and lust. 

“Take safe routes,” he called out, waving you off as the castle of Dawn Court disappeared behind the trees.

You forced yourself not to look back. 

————

The journey from Dawn to Spring would take six days of travel. With no ability to winnow or fly, it was a pace you were not accustomed to. 

But you would bare it with higher spirits than ever, because you got what you came for, what you’d wanted your entire life. You were making the world a better place, and only just getting started. 

Forgoing the coastal scenery you had indulged in on your journey up, you chose a route close to the inner border with Autumn, avoiding the congestion of the capital and heading through the most direct route. By your third morning you had already reached Summer, forgoing rest and carving your journey time to start your eager plans once home.

As the sun began to set that evening, Podie began fussing with fatigue. 

“I know boy, I know,” you soothed, patting at his neck. “We’re almost there.” 

And sure enough, the bustle of the town you had marked on your map sounded in the distance, smoke trails rising above the tree tops as signs of life revealed themselves. You had marked this town for its inn, where both you and Podie could rest properly for the night.

But rest would have to wait, as your ears pricked at a young voice. Turning, you saw wild auburn hair on a thin and ashy body, large eyes pleading to whoever walked past. 

“Please, ma’am, sir, someone help!”

But the other fae continued to look past her, offering mumbled apologies and averting their gaze. Disheartened, you tutted under your breath. The child was from Autumn, that much was clear, and you knew the other fae ignored her for it. This was exactly the kind of mentality you were trying to amend.

Having just secured Podie’s reigns at the stables next to the inn, you wiped your hands on your pants, approaching the girl. “What’s wrong youngling?”

The little girl all but crumpled. “Please, my mother, she-she can’t, I don’t-"

Crouching down, you soothed the young girl with a hand on each of her shoulders. “Is she unwell?”

Dirty hands rubbed the tears spilling from her eyes, and a nod was all she could offer. 

Your eyes flicked to your satchel still strung on Podie. There were vessels of Geranium in there, samples you had shown to the High Lords. 

“Can she walk?”

The little girl trembled, locks bouncing as she shook her head. Gods, those locks, so similar to Meryl's…

A fresh batch of tears poured from her eyes then, as she pointed behind her. “There are no healers in our town. I didn't know where to go!”

“It’ll be alright, I have some medicine in my bag. Can you take me to her?”

She girl’s lip quivered. “But it’s over the border,” she whispered.

You gave her a sorry smile. “I thought as much. Never mind, let me grab my bag, and you lead the way.”

Fuck Beron – fuck his senseless borders and militant court. Someone was in need of healing, so you would help them, plain and simple.

The girl was still thanking you by the time you returned with your satchel. You hoped you had enough Geranium to heal her mother to to a capacity until a trained healer could see to her. 

The young thing all but sprinted, and you maintained a steady jog to the Autumn border. Green blended with red here, the breeze already cooler as dried leaves danced with live ones. 

“My town is down this trail,” she pointed to a winding path. “It’s not far.”

You nodded, taking your first step in Autumn without a second thought. And when you reached the winding path, where the trees now hid the backs of Summer Court and the life that called there, the girl stopped in her path, turning with an eery slowness. 

You jumped back at the white film that now filled her eyes, her mouth downturned and sad. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her head lolling sideways. 

You hadn’t a moment to process the horror of it before hands pinned your arms and smothered your mouth. 

Fumes swarmed your senses, burning your nose and throat before you were overcome with poisonous haze, your cry swallowed in cloth as the world turned black. 

————

Rhysand handed the last of his bags to the door man, giving his guest room at Dawn one final sweep. 

Feyre had left a few days earlier to be with Nyx, but many of the High Lords had stayed to use the mutual meeting grounds and have much needed discussions after the war. But his business was done and he would finally return home, his heart aching for Velaris. 

Even his brothers would be there this time, having returned from their own missions. He was eager to unwind and be surrounded by the laughter and company of his family together again. Well, almost all of them. 

Tamlin’s scent pricked his nose, and Rhys resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With the complicated and bloody history they shared, forcing himself to be civil with Tamlin would always draining, and right now he just wanted to get home. 

Night magic flung the doors open, revealing the distraught High Lord, one hand raised to knock, the other clutching a letter. 

“Whatever can I do you for, Tamlin?” Rhys mused, before finally turning to face him. With one look at his expression, he flicked his eyes to the letter in Tamlin's hand, his stomach sinking immediately.

“What’s happened?” Rhys asked quickly. 

“Y/N – she was due back in Spring three days ago. Her uncle has written to say she hasn't come home.”

Rhys could feel the violet draining from his eyes. “Perhaps she took a few more days to herself?”

“She wouldn't do that.” Tamlin said firmly. 

Rhys nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line as worry brewed even further. He was right.

“There’s more.” 

Rhys quirked his brow. 

“Podie was found stranded at an inn in Summer, east of the capital.” 

“Podie? Who-"

“Her horse Rhysand! They found her damned horse, left there for days!”

Rhys swallowed, his mind narrowing to a steely focus – the way it did before battle. 

“You said east?”

Tamlin swallowed thickly, a knowing worry pulling at his features as he nodded. “Just shy of the border.”

Black flooded the little violet left in Rhys’s eyes. “Fuck.”

Tamlin stalked towards Rhys, forcing the letter into his hand. “Call for her mates, immediately.” 

But Rhys already was, his mind screaming out to his brothers, to Feyre, to anyone who could find her first. 

“Is it done?” Tamlin asked, green eyes desperately scanning the lucid male in front of him. 

Rhys was quiet for a moment, before sucking in a sharp sudden breath. He faltered then, grasping the bed post with a wince as his magic recoiled within. 

Because somewhere in Velaris, across the mountains and seas and stretch of land the separated y/n from her mates, a panic so deep and rage so violent consumed any magic in reach, even the most powerful High Lords. 

Rhys wasn't there to witness Cassian and Azriel’s siphons shattering, to see the way red and blue power - now freed from their bounds - instead consumed them, filling their veins and pulsing against muscle. 

Rhys nodded once at Tamlin, confirming what they both knew.

There would be a war to retrieve Y/N alive. And Beron was as good as dead.  

————

Beron took a leather parcel from the last of his guards, before ushering him from your cell. 

You had been here for days – or so you thought. Time was a difficult thing to grasp in your haze, and there was no light here. It was quite too, the only sound of dripping dampness, and the occasional screams and pleas from a women. That voice was so far away, you weren’t certain it was real, or that it wasn't your own. 

Beron had visited you the day you were taken, his dark eyes glowing with hideous intent at the sight of you bound in his dungeon. He hadn’t said much, only promising with sickening glee that he’d be back soon. 

You half expected him to beat you, to hurt and punish you for humiliating him at the High lords meeting. Gods, you even anticipated death. But the High Lord kept you hydrated and healthy enough, all be it drugged and weak. Which meant a different fate awaited you, perhaps one worse than you could imagine.

You cursed at the sight of the weapon he unfurled from the leather pouch. It was a rapier of kinds – too large to be a knife, too small to be an ordinary sword. But it was the ungodly glow of the thing - the churning ribbons of deadly silver turning in on itself - that terrified you most. 

“What is that?” you panted, your eyes wide as Beron’s grin grew. 

“You have no idea the lengths I’ve gone to find such a tool, Y/N.” He angled it this way and that, eyes glowing with admiration as silver danced in them. “The terrible things I had to do to have this made, to even hold it in my bare hands.”

It was pointless to press further into the metal slab you were bound to, cuffs digging at your ankles and wrists as you reopened the same wounds you had fought against for days.

Beron was drawing closer, the rest of the room darkening as the rapier glowed so bright, commanding your attention. The air grew colder, as if those lethal ribbons were consuming the warmth for itself.

“I think we’re alike, you and I.” Beron eyed you with a sickly smile before he began to pace, moving his sword with him.

Your chest heaved with panic, your eyes trailing him as you begged for anyone to find you. Your mates, that tether, perhaps they would hear you? But the bond had weakened since left unacknowledged, and as you fished for it within you could feel how it had thinned.  

“I don't like having my things taken from me, Y/N. And I’m certain you don't either. That’s why you were alone, wasn’t it? Without your mates, hm? They took something of yours, and you didn't like it one bit.”

Your eyes snapped to Beron the moment he mentioned them. Fuck. Fuck. Eris, that kniving worm, had told him exactly what he needed to know.

“I’ve had something of mine taken from me over and over again for almost a century. The one thing that was promised to me – sworn to me by oath, bound to me by a ring.”

What nonsense was he spitting? Unless… oh gods.

“You see there’s a particular High Lord who seems to think he can help himself to what is mine. And apparently, my whore of a wife agrees.”

The Lady of Autumn. What Feyre had shared with you about Lucien, about his mother and Helion – it was all true. And Beron knew.

You gulped, your stomach churning as you forced your voice past the strain in your throat. “What in gods name does that have to do with me, you twisted senseless fuck.”

Fear seeped from you, and you knew he could scent it. 

Beron chuckled, shaking his head before crazed eyes found yours. “Do you know what my wife said to me when I confronted her, Y/N? Do you know what she claimed, what she threw in my face, after centuries of marriage, of sharing my home and my court and six fucking sons?”

You were wise enough not to answer. 

Beron shifted, easing back into lethal calm. “She tells me of a bond. Bound by the cauldron, she claims. She says that she’s sorry, to please not hurt her, to please not hurt him. And then she begs me to let her go.”

Bile rose to your throat. “What have you done to her?” you gritted, fighting against your cuffs once more. “Have you- did you-”

“Kill her?” Beron finished, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Of course not. I am no monster.” He paused then, halting his pace. “I love her.”

It was almost convincing. 

“But so began my journey, sweet Y/N, to help my dear wife from her delusions. I keep her here, a few cells over. She’s very eager to receive her treatment and rejoin the throne again as my loyal wife.”

You had to blink through your nausea. The begging, those screams – they were real. It was her.

“By no means was it an easy task to find a tool like this – something so magnificent, crafted straight from death itself. But I do it for her.”

Your stomach dropped. He had harnessed death itself? This was beyond insidious - Beron had been driven insane by his jealousy.

Beron’s eyes flicked from the weapon to you, noting the way you stiffened.

“Ah yes, death. Not an easy thing to befriend, certainly not an easy thing to yield. It took a life to harness it’s power, life from my very own family.” 

Beron’s words were becoming harder to hear as your heart pounded in your ears. And then it clicked, and you could have sworn that time stood still as his words played in your head. He had mentioned six sons, not seven.

You had not known a fear like the one you felt now, a sickening tremble overtaking as you knew what he would say next.

“Please,” you begged, twisting in your restraints. “Please! Don't say it!”

“Although I suppose Lucien wasn't truly my family, not really.”

A scream ripped from you, your eyes clenched shut as your mind reeled at the horror. Lucien – Tamlin’s friend, Feyre’s friend, your friend too. Killed as a sacrifice for this insidious narcissist he had thought was his father. 

“Oh none of that, Y/N. You act as if I enjoyed it. Lucien was my son in many ways. But a power this great,” he said, casting the sword before his eyes. “Well, it demands an equally great sacrifice.”

Anguished sobs escaped you, tear tracks gleaming from the glow of death before you.

“How could you?” you screamed, writhing against your chains. “He trusted you!”

Beron’s eyes darkened. “It’s as I said,” he growled. “I will not have my things taken from me. For decades I was humiliated and lied to while she slinked from MY COURT to have an affair with another High Lord. Years spent playing me a fool, lying to my face and CLAIMING a SON as my OWN!”

You trembled at the hate in Beron’s voice, walls rumbling as he beheld other-worldly power from the weapon in his hand. You knew his words had hit their mark, and faint wails could be heard outside your cell. The Lady of Autumn could hear it all – Beron was punishing her, forcing her to listen.

He was quiet then, watching you fail to stifle your own sobs.

He moved closer, raising a hand to stroke at your hair. “Shh, shh. Now now, dear Y/N. I may hate you, but I’m a man of reason. I don't believe in spilt blood.”

You jerked under his touch, squeezing your eyes shut and begging to the Mother to not let you die at the hands of this deranged murderer.

“I haven't bought you here to kill you. You’re valuable to me, you see.”

You forced your eyes open. 

“I merely want to break your bond.” 

There was a ringing in your ears as a panic burst through your veins so quickly you felt you would simply combust. 

“And I suppose I don't care should you survive this or not.” Beron said with a shrug, before pointing that ungodly sword at your heart, and a bloodcurdling scream ripped from your chest.

--------

Part 7>>>

A/N: Hi. Hiiiii. Are you... are you ok? Hoping Lucien's death didn't hurt too bad. ❤️  Thank you always for your patience on this chapter, I so hope you liked it (or at least made you feel the feels). I cannot wait to explore feral Cass and Az, and probably Rhys and Feyre and Tamlin too lol Drop a comment or an ask any time, I looooooove hearing your thoughts on the fic, it makes my day each and every time <3 Thank you, and I love you. MWA! ❤️ 

#acotar series #acotarfanfic #azriel x reader #acotar angst #azriel angst #acotar fandom #acotar #acotar fanfic #cazriel series #cazriel x fem reader #cazriel x you #cazriel x reader #cassian x azriel x y/n #cassian angst #tamlin x reader #rhysand and feyre #high lords of prythian #cazriel angst #azriel mating bond #cassian mating bond #lucien vanserra

[illyrian-dreamer]

ACOTAR Masterlist

GIF by kennedy1917sworld

*(Indicates smut)

Azriel:

Changing Shadows (complete series):

Summary: You have a new role in the Inner Circle — Heard Guard of Velaris. And as Rhys’s younger sister, you feel you have a lot to prove. 

You and the Shadowsinger are also growing closer, and tension builds as your relationship changes from friendship to something else...

How will you juggle your feelings for Azriel and the dangers that come with your new role, without disappointing the rest of the Inner Circle and the Night Court?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7* | Part 8 | Part 9* | Part 10 | Part 11* | Part 12* | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15* | Part 16* | Part 17* | Part 18* | Part 19* | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23* | Part 24 - Finale

Overwritten (complete series)

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 - Finale

And Then There Were None

Summary: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

Part 1 | Part 2

One shots:

A Shadowsinger’s intuition

Feel too much

Confessions at Starfall

Stay with me

Spin the bottle

In the arms of understanding*

Drabble:

Salad (fluff)

Cassian:

One shots:

Tides and turmoil

With benefits*

Remnants of a star

Azriel and Cassian:

Our Girl (series)

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4* | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Rhys:

Series

Dance with the devil

Summary: You attempt to rob the High Lord of the Night Court.

Part 1 |

One shots:

Two lessons in one*

Make a bargain with me

Bat boys:

Drabble:

Bat boys react to being called ‘bro’*

Brat taming bat boys *

Lucien: 

Frozen Flames (series)

Summary: After fifty years trapped Under the Mountain, you struggle to adjust to your new found freedom as Kallias’s third-in-charge to the Winter Court.

In an unlikely circumstance, you meet Lucien Vanserra.

As you and Lucien grow closer, dealing with the loss of your mother and trauma from Amarantha’s reign proves harder than you thought. How will you start to trust and love again?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7 | Part 8

Eris

One shots:

Conditions of entry*

Comment to join the tag list :)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Sarah J Maas, not my own.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #rhysand #rhysand x sister #rhysand x reader #cassian acotar #rhysand sister #acotarfanfic #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #fluff #angst #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar writing #acotar x reader #reader insert #eris #eris vanserra #Lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra series #cazriel series

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 7 — Trouble in Paradise

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

A/N: MFW the silly little smut drabble series I started over winter break starts developing a plot :o

Lmaooo I should have seen this coming. Be patient with me, I'm in a creative writing MFA program so fanfic isn't my priority rn but this series is begging to be written so I'm going to follow those vibes as far as they take me, just bear with me if updates are sporadic.

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Of course, there’s a learning curve that comes with a Triad Bond. Sex is the easy part—being in a relationship with two bullheaded Illyrian males is more complicated.

Rhys tried his best not to send any of you on solo missions but, inevitably, something came up and Azriel had to go undercover in the Court of Nightmares. It’s a top-secret mission and he has to block you and Cassian out the entire time he’s there, lest someone learn the true reason for his visit.

And… it was a lot easier to be a spy without two mates waiting for him back home. His mental shields are ironclad, trapping all the frustration and sadness behind closed doors, but it seeps out in other ways. His shadows are way more vicious than they normally are and, after long days spent playing nice with Keir and his cronies, as soon as his bedroom door locks behind him, he fists his cock in quick strokes. It takes a matter of minutes for him to spill himself into the mattress with how pent-up he is.

Things aren’t much better in Velaris. Sure, you and Cas have each other, but the bond hates the dark hole where Az should be and no matter how hard you try to soothe the ache, it never goes away.

Cassian throws himself into training; on days he doesn’t have other work to do, he flies out to Windhaven and spends the day beating the shit out of anyone who dares challenge him. When he comes home late at night, you patch him up with soft, delicate touches and hold him until his tears dry up.

Sex isn’t the same without Azriel there, either. You try to hold out; it feels wrong without him, but everything boils over a week into his absence.

Cassian spent the day in Windhaven, again, and you wait up with a book and a cup of tea but it’s morning when he slams through the door drenched in blood and reeking like the mixed-together contents of a liquor cabinet.

“Cas?” You mumble, lifting your head off the couch cushion and rubbing your eyes as you push yourself into a sitting position. He stomps past you into the bedroom and you hear the water running as he fills the bath. Stifling a yawn, you push through the nausea swirling in your gut and follow him on your tiptoes.

When you push the washroom door open, you see his broad shoulders bent over the edge of the half-filled tub, bloodied and shaking with the force of his sobs.

You surge forward and fall to your knees next to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whisper, rubbing his back. His head drops to your chest and you feel his rumbling anger in your soul.

Y/N? It’s Rhys’ voice in your head, tentative and sheepish. Is he okay?

No, you snarl back, immediately feeling guilt for the harshness of your words. But Ariel is gone, Cassian is broken, and your heart is torn in two. You force yourself to be gentler as you ask: Is there something I should know?

Rhys hesitates. Devlon called me in to fetch him this morning and… it wasn’t pretty. I’ll send word to Madja and tell her you’re going to be out for a few days.

Before you can protest, he continues. I know you’ve been working overtime. You’re running yourself ragged, Y/N. You need a break just as much as he does.

Rhysand cuts off the mental connection in the middle of your indignant huff, but the gears in your mind are turning. Instead of turning to each other in Az’s absence, you’ve been burying yourselves in solitude and work. Clearly, something has to change.

You loosen the strip of leather holding Cas’s hair up and sprinkle deep purple healing magic into it as you run your fingers through his thick locks. It’s just enough to calm him down, sobs tapering off into shuddering breaths.

“Cas?” You ask when he finally stills, slumping boneless against you. “Whose blood is this?”

He tilts his head back, guilt filling in every line on his face, and your heart clenches. No wonder Rhys offered to talk to Madja for you; he probably needed her to fix whatever damage Cassian’s misplaced anger had caused.

“‘M sorry,” Cas whispers, burying his face in your neck again. “I didn’t mean to, I just…”

“Shhh,” you shushed him, curling one arm to cradle his head. “I know you didn’t, baby. Rhys does too. This is new territory for all of us, and there were bound to be some kinks to work out.” Cas nods against you and you squeeze him as tight as you can, channeling love and healing magic through the bond. Behind you, the tub is full of steamy hot water, so you wave your hand to get rid of Cas’s clothes and help him into the bath.

When he’s settled, you shed your nightgown and get in with him. He rests his head against the side of the tub and lets you run a bar of soap over the planes of his muscles, healing bruises and scrapes as you find them.

"Thank you," he whispers once you’ve finished. He reaches one hand out and pulls you against his chest without opening his eyes.

The bond settles as much as it can without a third anchor to tether itself to. You lay there, basking in the soft glow of your mingling magic, until suddenly Cassian stands up, pushing you off him.

“Sorry,” he grunts when you fall forward, splashing into the water. “I just…” You follow his gesturing hand down the V of his hips and the problem stares out at you—long, thick, and hard. “I dunno, it feels wrong without Az.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, torn between the mouth-watering sight of him on display, just inches from your face, and the guilt bubbling up inside you. In the end, the bond makes the decision for you, practically shoving you forward to pull Cas’s cock in between your lips.

His protests are dead on arrival; you don’t even hear them, too focused on pouring all your pent-up sexual frustration out onto him.

After just a few minutes, his hips are bucking wildly and he forces himself to pull back. You look up at him with wide eyes and saliva dripping down your chin, and he growls, tugging you out of the tub so he can shove you against the wall. He drops to his knees and drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, devouring you like a man starved.

With no patience left for teasing, he fucks you with his tongue, plunging deep into your core until you’re writhing against him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, tumbles out of your head and into his as the pleasure builds and builds.

That's it, baby, he sends back down the bond, digging into your sweet spot with one of his fingers. Let go for me.

Your body follows his command, the tightly wound coil inside of you snapping as soon as you have permission. He grins against you as you fuck his face, riding out your high.

As soon as he pulls away, he’s got his hands under your ass, hauling you up into his arms as he presses his cock into your slick folds. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as your head drops back against the wall.

It’s quick and dirty. Without Azriel there to force you to slow down and savor each other, you’re teetering on the edge of a second orgasm before you’ve fully recovered from the first. Cassian’s thrusts grow sloppier and you feel through the bond that his release is looming.

When he ducks his head to pull one of your nipples between his teeth, both of you lose the last of your self-control. Cas drives his hips into you and fills you up, tipping you over the cliff. You clench your walls around him as your release comes gushing out.

Meanwhile, in one of the training rooms under the mountain, a wave of something washes over Az as he’s running through drills against a training dummy with Truth Teller. At first, he thinks it’s nausea and regrets not stopping by the kitchens to grab a bite earlier, but the ache is too low to be coming from his stomach.

When he reaches one gloved hand to palm himself through his leathers, he’s shocked to find his cock solid and straining against the fabric. He thanks the Mother that he’s training alone today and makes quick work of it.

Three weeks into Az’s mission, Mor heads under the mountain to check on him under the guise of visiting her father. She enters the dining room and immediately realizes that something is wrong. There’s a woman sitting to Kier’s right, and Az is on her other side. His shadows nip at Mor’s toes like she’s the enemy as she takes her seat on her father’s left.

He refuses to speak to her, but when they make eye contact during dessert, his eyes are dark and stormy, filled with shadows of their own.

When she retires to her room later that night, she reports back to Rhys who orders her to pull Az out as soon as she can.

Despite the fact that they haven’t slept together in decades, it’s easy to slip back into old habits. The next morning at breakfast, she lays it on thick. By dinner time, her father merely waves them off when she requests the Shadowsinger for her own personal reasons.

“Go on then,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let the High Lord know when I require your presence next.”

As soon as they’ve both gathered their belongings, Mor winnows them away. When his feet touch solid ground, Az shoves her away with a snarl. His shadows surge forward to cushion her back and prevent her from falling; even blinded by his anger, he doesn't want to hurt her.

“What the fuck,” he growls. “I wasn’t done!”

“I have orders to pull you out of there. Rhys thinks you’ve gone in too deep.” Az growls like a feral animal being forced into a cage.

“Rhysand needs me in there now more than ever. Something’s happening, Mor. Something big, and I was working my way in, I—“

Mor cuts him off, holding a hand up to silence him.

“You think I don’t know that? Whether I like it or not, that’s my father. I know something’s up, but Rhys needs you in there, Azriel. And you’re not you right now. You’re cold and ruthless, not thinking clearly after too much time away from your mates.”

Az deflates and drops onto the sofa behind him. It’s the worn old leather one in Rhys’s mother’s cottage, in Windhaven. Mor sits down next to him, rubbing a hand across his shoulders, careful to avoid brushing against his wings which are rigid and full of tension.

“It’s not your sole responsibility to save the world, Az. You’re an excellent spy, but you’re more than that, too. Don’t let the tunnel vision take over.”

Az drops his head into his hands, letting out all of the air in his lungs with one deep sigh. He knows she’s right, that the bond should be a strength and not a weakness, but he’s terrified that something will happen to his mates. He couldn’t risk it, not when he was down there.

But that wasn’t his decision to make alone. The more he fought against the bond, the more it fought back, rattling his brain and tugging at every one of his senses. The effort to keep it bottled up drained his energy until all he could see was the mission, his purpose. Gathering information about the woman, Amarantha, became the most important thing in his life.

So he feels like a bit of an asshole when he turns up on your doorstep with his rucksack slung over one shoulder and only a faint shimmer of the bond left flickering inside his chest. It’s not enough to keep him tethered to the two of you, so he has no idea how you're feeling, but he forces himself to knock on the door, anyway.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting your arm drop from the doorknob to your side. On your end, the bond bursts into bright golden flames that shoot down, making a beeline for Azriel.

It tugs at Cas’s side, too, and then his head pops up behind your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says, flashing the dopiest grin that Azriel has ever seen.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons #triad #acotar smut #cassian smut #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #cassian x reader smut

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 9 — Reunion Part 2

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is 3200 words of self-indulgent smut that ALSO moves the plot forward and then a 1100 word funny/sweet little gift at the end that ALSO ALSO moves the plot forward. If you want to skip the smut, just reading the bit beneath the *** will give you enough of an idea of what happened and why it’s going to be important in less explicit terms. Listen to Total Control by DJO if you want additional ~vibes~ and see if you can guess the two other songs that inspired/are referenced in this part. First person to guess each wins a drabble of your choosing (word choice tbd by the vibes I’m feeling while I write it lol).

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Pure smut with dom/sub undertones, choking and restraints included. Buckle up folks!

When Az wakes up a few hours later, his chest hiccups with a sharp intake of breath. With his brain still stuck under the mountain, he struggles against the restraints confining him to the bed. 

His thrashing startles you and Cas awake, and while the male loosens his grip and scrambles backwards, you tighten your arms around Az’s waist. Shadow swirl all around you, just as confused as their master. 

“Shhhh,” you whisper, rubbing soothing circles around his belly button. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream; you’re back home now.” 

You keep whispering sweet reassurances as the shadows start to settle, wrapping you and Azriel in their calming chill. Slowly, he stops trying to wriggle away and relaxes in your arms, eventually twisting around to look at you. 

“‘M sorry,” he mutters, voice still hoarse from sleep. You check the clock on the wall, noticing that it’s well past dinner time already. 

“Don’t apologize,” you say, raising your hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs. “It’s our job to take care of you, Azzie.”

“And we love our job,” Cas quips, crawling across the bed with a steaming mug in one hand, which he holds to Az’s lips. “So be a dear and let us do it, yeah?” 

Azriel rolls his narrowed eyes, but dutifully takes a sip anyway. The hot liquid merges with his insides, soothing aches both physical and mental. 

Once the tea is gone, Cas reaches over for a croissant and lifted it up to Az’s mouth. 

“I can feed myself, you know,” Az complains, reaching out to try and swipe the pastry from Cassian’s grip. Cas laughs and pulls it away, teasing him. 

“Please? Just this once?” He pleads, eyes widening as he sticks out his lower lip in a pout.  “You weren’t the only one affected by shutting off the bond, you know.”

The look Az gives him suggests that there will be hell to pay for this later, but Cassian’s entire face lights up when Az parts his lips. He takes small bites and chews slowly as both males stare at each other, bond shimmering with pleasure at the intimacy of the act. 

It’s a gesture of trust on both parts and you watch, breathless and teary, as the intensity of their gazes deepens with each bite. After Cas shoves the last bit in, he lets his fingers linger longer than necessary, ghosting against Az’s lips. 

Az swallows, smirks, and then sucks Cas’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue 

“So that’s how you want to play this, huh?” Cas growls, patience draining from his body. You see it in the way his muscles tighten, a sign that he’s desperately clinging to the last of his self control. 

Saying nothing, Az just hums around Cas’s fingers and it’s fucking hot, the way your usually dominant mate can so easily slip into a submissive role while still holding onto all the power. But through the bond, it’s clear that they both need this. 

Cas needs to burn off some of the anger and frustration that had built up during Azriel’s absence, and Az (though he’d never admit it out loud) needs reassurance, to feel loved and desired. Letting his mates have their way with him is a sure fire way to calm the insecurities that have grown like ivy during his prolonged isolation.  

Besides, he’s never fully defenseless. If things go too far, his shadows are always there to lend a helping hand in regaining control. 

You make eye contact with Cas over Az’s head, matching grins on your faces as the possibilities flash down the bond, filling your minds with the most delightful images. 

Letting his lips fall open again, Az runs his teeth along the fingers that start to drop just hard enough to send a shudder of pleasure down Cas’s arm. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, heart working double time to accommodate how rapidly his body awakens. 

“On your back,” Cassian whispers, the power he’s trying to contain escaping through his voice where a hardness sharpens the edges of his words, turning them into weapons. 

“Or what?” Az asks, scooting away from you so he’s fully facing Cas. He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow, a half-smirk grazing the corners of his lips. 

Red magic flutters out of clenched fists, siphons struggling to contain it all. 

“You’re acting real smug over there,” he hisses, leaning in closer to Az, “for someone who’s seen me tear armies limb from limb.” 

The darkness seeping into Cas’s eyes has Az straining against his tight sleep shorts, the confines of which are a sweet kind of agony. 

And Azriel is smug because he knows exactly which buttons to push to get what he wants. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” he whispers, eyes darkening as he smirks at Cas from across the room. 

It’s a callback to when they first met, when Cassian had made it his personal mission to make Az’s life a living hell. Things came to a head one night after they’d been out drinking and they ended up fighting behind one of the seedy dive bars littered throughout Windhaven and the surrounding forest. 

“RHYS DOESN’T NEED ANOTHER BROTHER,” Cassian bellowed, feeling his magic sparking beneath his skin. 

Something in Cassian broke when Azriel’s lips had hardened, the Shadowsinger’s steely gaze piercing straight through Cas’s heart as he growled “I’m not afraid of you.”

It made Cas feel squeamish which, in turn, stoked the fires of his internal rage. His veins stung as red-hot flames licked their way through his body. Clenching his jaw and then each muscle below it, he used brute force to tame his errant magic. 

He raised his arms, ready to shove the infuriating Shadow Master away when shadows swirled around him, tightening into shackles around his wrist. His eyes widened; he’d finally found someone who could give it back to him as hard as he liked to give it. 

With one eyebrow raised, the silent Shadowsinger held out a hand. The shadows only released their grip when Cassian slumped forward with laughter tumbling from his lips. Cassian and Azriel clasped hands and were brothers from that day forward. 

And though Cas’s jaw twitches now just like it did then, it’s not laughter that escapes his lips but a Cauldron-damned snarl. In a flash of red, he surges forward to clamp a hand around Az’s neck, shoving until messy curls thump against the headboard.   

“You do look so pretty in blue,” Cas hums, candlelight reflecting off his teeth as he bares them in a wicked grin. 

“Come here darling,” he says, reaching over to you with his free hand. You slip your own smaller one into it, mirroring the look on his face as he tugs you closer. “You keep quiet,” he says to Az, tossing his words out like an afterthought as he turns to look at you. 

You look up at him all batted lashes and blown out pupils and he melts, all of the lines on his face disappearing. He pulls you into his side, letting his arm snake around your waist. 

“And you, sweet little thing,” he whispers, lowering his lips to brush against your pulse point, “can get comfortable riiiiight here.” Cas arranges you on Az’s lap, straddling one of his thighs with your ass just barely brushing against his cock. 

He squeezes Az’s throat a little harder, just for a few seconds, and then lets go completely. Az is completely silent, staring up at Cas with wide, eager eyes. 

“Good boy,” Cas says, patting Az on the cheek before turning his full attention to you. His eyes flash a deep, blood red as he waves a hand behind him like an afterthought. From his fingertips, red magic shoots out  like twirling arrows that wrap around Az’s wrists, pinning them to the headboard. 

If he wasn’t so horny, Cas would be in a state of shock, but it’s like it doesn’t register that he shouldn’t be able to do that. Or at least that he’s never done that before. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and from the burning, crackling blue magic flowing through the bond from Az’s side you think that Az would agree if was capable of coherent thoughts. 

Az’s wrists are bound tight enough that he can feel the restraints pressing into his skin, but they’re still malleable and comfortable. His shadows surround the red bands, curious and excited. 

Cas leans in to press a firm yet gentle kiss to your lips, murmuring against them. “He’s being so good, isn’t he, angel?” 

You agree, letting the desire buzzing in your body ooze out through your words. “So good.” 

Then you stick your tongue in between Cas’s lips, coaxing a breathy moan from the male knowing it will have Az frothing at the mouth. He loves making the two of you put on a show for him, so you’re going to give him exactly what he wants. Except you make the rules this time, so you take your time exploring every crevasse in Cas’s mouth. Eventually, his hands slide up your waist, shoving up your thin top. 

“Off,” he commands, leaning back to watch you slip the fabric over your head. You toss it aside and arch your back as you fold forward to press your hardened nipples against his bare chest. 

“Pants, too,” he instructs, waving a hand at you. Within seconds you’re completely bare, cunt soaking Az’s pajama pants. Instinctively, you rub your clit against his thigh a few times and your ass brushes against Az’s clothed dick. 

It has him rocking his hips back and forth, needing just a little bit of friction to take the edge off of his overwhelming desires. Keeping his mouth shut is taking too much of his focus so his body’s getting antsy. 

“I think he liked that,” you say, acknowledging Az without turning around. Instead, you scoot forward, pressing your knees into Cassian’s sides to lift yourself and free up space for you to reach down, freeing his cock from its cloth prison.

Cas hums, saying nothing as he tightens his grip on your hips, lowering you onto him. He bends his legs, propping them up next to Az’s hips, and stretches you open, slowly easing himself inside. Behind you, Az whimpers, making Cas smirk as he tugs you down until your chests are flush. That gives Az a full, unobstructed view of what’s going on. 

Once you’ve adjusted to Cas’s size, you start to ride him, chasing a rapidly building high. Cas guides you, chin on your shoulder so he can stare straight at Az while he says “I want you to come on my cock, can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes,” you hiss, grinding yourself down so his tip circles that sensitive spot deep inside you. 

“Then we’re gonna get at least one more out of ya before it’s Az’s turn. He made us wait, so now we’re making him wait.”

Az is squirming behind you but staying silent—Cas never said he couldn’t move, only that he had to keep quiet. Like he can read Az’s thoughts, Cas laughs; a sharp, growling chuckle like a predator messing with his prey. “And I know you think you’re getting away with something back there, but I can feel you moving. Keep going, if you want, but you’ll pay for it later.” 

This new side of Cas has you mumbling nonsense, just fragmented words and phrases conveying the message to keep going, right there. He uses his bent legs to his advantage, pounding up into you. The hands on your hips squeeze tighter and you hope they leave bruises behind so you can match Az. 

It doesn’t take long for you to find your release, milking every last aftershock until you slump onto Cas’s chest, boneless and breathless. 

“Got another one in there for us?” He whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I can try,” you mumble against the curve of his pecs. 

“Good girl.” He helps prop you back up and, from his spot behind you, holds a hand out towards Az. The glowing red bonds dissolve, freeing his wrists, and he immediately scoots forward. Cas lifts you up, grabbing your ass to make room for Az to shimmy down flat on his back and then settling you with your knees next to his ears. 

Two thick fingers dip into your dripping cunt. Cas collects some of your slick before shoving you down onto Az’s waiting lips. 

He moves those fingers lower, circling the rim of Az’s hole to ease it open. Az whimpers, finally getting the touch he’s been wanting and it’s almost too much too fast. 

Cas slides his free hand down the curve of your ass and onto Az’s neck, curling his fingers around to press against his mate’s pulse point.

“I told you to keep quiet,” Cas snarls. Shadows nuzzle up against the hard planes of Cassian’s body, murmuring apologies that only Az can hear. 

You feel Az still beneath you but are so close to your second peak that you keep grinding against his face. It only lasts for a few seconds before Cassian loosens his grip. 

“You better make her cum. If you want me to fuck you, I want to hear Y/N scream your name,” he whispers, leaning down to graze his teeth against the skin behind Az’s ear. 

“Please, Az,” you whine, fingernails digging into the headboard as you writhe against his mouth searching for your release. His tongue darts into your folds and then he sucks on your clit, lapping up towards it with the flat of his tongue. “Fuck, do that again.” He obliges, wanting nothing more than to feel your walls fluttering against his tongue, to please you, to please Cassian. It’s getting to be too much, having Cas’s fingers working his hole open and you humping his face. 

When he dips his tongue into you again, you stutter into your climax. Your hips thrust up until your clit hits Az’s nose and then you grind down, each small movement sending shockwaves through your system. 

“Az,” you cry, slumping back against Cas as you’re hit with the full force of a second orgasm without getting the chance to recover from the first. It hits just on the pleasure side of the pain/pleasure spectrum and you ride it out, pulsing walls sucking his tongue back in. 

“Good job, honey,” Cas murmurs, wrapping an arm around your chest to pull you in as tight as possible. You let your core fall away from Az’s mouth and Cassian helps you crawl off of Az. Collapsing on the bed next to Az, you curl into his side, seeking out his warmth. 

Love you, you mutter through the bond, sending a flutter of purple magic his way. Shadows wrap you in a soothing cocoon in answer. 

Cas tugs Az down the bed, flipping him onto his stomach and pulling his hips back so Cas can slip his tip into the loosened hole. 

“You ready for me, baby? Think you can take it?” Cas asks, low and breathy since he’s teasing himself as much as he’s teasing Az.

“Yessss,” Az hisses, trying to tip his hips forward to take more. Cas barks out a laugh and smacks a flat palm down on one of Az’s cheeks. 

With your head curled to the side, you have a perfect view of the slight jiggle of Az’s ass. Cas’s other hand tightens around the sloping waist leading down to toned hips, and then he slaps again two, three, four times. 

“I never said you could speak,” he scolds. Az’s eyes are bright and glinting with unshed tears as he grasps desperately at the last remaining shreds of his self control. 

Cas waits for a full two minutes, slowly pushing his cock in deeper. Az stretches to accommodate him, tight rim tugging to try and speed the process along. “Fuck, you take me so well.”

When his pelvis is flush against Az, he bends down and slides his hand into the dark hair standing out against the white sheets. He tips Az’s head to the side, exposing one ear so he can mutter against it. “Okay, you can speak now, baby. You’re doing a good job, Azzie.” Azzie. The nickname shouldn’t arouse him like this, make him clench even tighter around Cas. It’s the name that you call him when you’re feeling sweet, when you really want something, or when you’re trying to get his attention when he’s really, really broken. Az isn’t sure which one of these things Cas is trying to communicate. All three, probably, with the way he’s nipping at Az’s earlier hard enough to break the skin. 

“Cas,” Az groans, arching his back to rub his dick against the silk beneath him. You scoot down and push him up on his forearms, slipping into the space beneath him to line your head up with his leaking tip. Cas starts thrusting, strokes wild, deep, and messy as he loses himself in the feeling of Az’s tightness, pounding against his prostate. 

“Not gonna last long,” Cas grunts, body frothing with lust and magic after spending so long teasing his mates. 

You suck Az in between your lips, swallowing as much of him as your current position will allow, and feel him twitch against your tongue. 

“Me ‘neither,” Az mumbles against the curve of your stomach, right below your belly button. His lips ghost against your skin, sending cool shadows in the direction of his breath. 

He fucks into your mouth every time Cas bottoms out in him, pushing him even deeper. Cas doesn’t last long, spilling into Az with a strangled choke. Azriel speeds up, hips bucking wildly as he takes 

“Gonna come for us, baby?” Cas rasps, running his hands up and down Az’s thighs, slumping forward to keep his dick inside, softening against Az’s prostate. 

“Y-yes,” Az keens as he spills himself into your mouth like all he was waiting for was permission. His cum drips down the back of your throat and you swallow it all, sucking him through the aftershocks of his orgasm until he whimpers, overstimulated and wriggling in between you and Cassian. 

Cas pulls out and guides Az until he’s laying back with his head and shoulders propped up by only the biggest, fluffiest pillows. You curl up against his side and lift your hand to Az’s neck, grazing the darkening bruises there. Within seconds, Cas has his hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing it tight as he pulls your hand away. 

“Don’t,” he murmurs, letting his own free hand settle atop Azriel’s collarbone, fingertips following the trail of marks at the base of his mate’s neck. “I want him to wear them like a necklace.”

Az flushes the prettiest shade of red you’ve ever seen and you hum in acknowledgement. You turn to face Cas, grin as wild as your post-fuck hair. 

“Next time, I want you to choke him ‘til he’s blue in the face.”

Golden, molten-lava lust oozes through the bond followed by a bright white flash of shame that’s engulfed by shadows in less than a second.  

***

Az is up early the next morning, needing a moment to himself before his mates wake up. Alone at the kitchen table with only the slowly rising sun to keep him company, he works on shrouding the memories of last night in the darkness at the very back of his mind. 

When his shadows alert him that someone’s coming up the walkway, he bolts to the door to catch them before they knock or, Mother forbid, ring the bell and wake his slumbering mates. He still has his coffee in one hand when he swings the door open, scowling 

“Why, good morning, Shadowsinger,” Rhys drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his face, smooth as butter. “I can come back later if you’re currently indisposed.”

And—oh. Az’s free hand flies to his neck, fingertips ghosting over the bruises littering his throat. In his haste to get to the door, he forgot to deal with those. 

Rolling his eyes, he swings the door open wider, beckoning his brother in. 

“Come in, you mongrel. But if you wake my mates, you’ll choke on my shadows.” The threat is light-hearted but completely serious when paired with the ice cold glare pinching at the corners of his eyes. Shadows nip at Rhysand’s heels as he follows Az into the cozy little kitchen, sinking into one of the worn, wooden chairs surrounding the table. 

Azriel opts to lean against the counter, one leg propped up and a hand clutching the cool marble. Rhys waves one hand, pouring and summoning a cup of coffee with a flick of his hand. 

“Show off,” Az snorts into his mug as he takes a long sip of his (black) coffee. 

“Somebody’s jealous,” Rhys teases as he adjusts the cream and sugar levels until they’re just right. 

Az lowers his mug revealing a nose wrinkled in distaste. 

“Of you? Never.” Disgust lasts mere seconds before laughter is bubbling out of his mouth, rumbling deep in his chest. It helps him breathe a little easier.

“I wouldn’t mind swapping places with you for a few days.” Rhys winks as he lifts his mug to his lips. 

“You’d have your hands full with those two.” Az waves his mug, gesturing vaguely towards his neck. “This is an anomaly.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. Cassian always did like being thrown around a little bit too much.” Both males laugh, thinking about a younger Cas holding the full force of his power back in fights, grinning up at his opponent with a mouthful of blood and asking Is that all you’ve got? 

It’s quiet for a while as they sip their coffee, but then Rhys sets his mug down and leans forward, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on the table. 

“It’s okay if you liked it, though. They’re your mates, brother. It’s a safe way to be vulnerable, to let your guard down.”

Az’s hazel eyes narrow and his shadows spring into action, swirling around his feet. Rhysand waits patiently, knowing that cracking Azriel’s hard exterior would take time and a delicate hand. 

Eventually, he speaks. 

“I…enjoyed myself. Cas’s magic is much more powerful than I thought.”

“Oh?”

“It was damn near refined. I’ve never seen him have that much control over it, not even on the battlefield.” 

Rhys hums and cocks his head, picturing the explosive bursts of red that had cleared battlefields many times before. 

“That makes sense, actually. Cassian’s always been afraid of his power, more comfortable using physical force than magic. It could be a mutually beneficial exercise for the both of you—for all three of you, really. By letting your guard down, you likely allowed Cassian to tap into some of your self control. And the unequivocal trust that stems from bond ensured that both of you felt safe enough to let power flow freely through the bond. I suspect that if you keep practicing, Rhys pauses to flash a wink and a cheeky grin at the blushing Shadowsinger, “then eventually you’ll be able to borrow from each other outside of the bedroom, too.” He punctuates his sentence with a shrug; after all this Triad Bond was rare, so his ideas were merely conjectures. 

“So you’re saying we can strengthen our magic by having sex?” 

“Sex is a powerful act—of love, of trust, of acceptance—it could become a safe space for you to explore the depths of your powers together.” Az twists his face up in a (hilarious, in Rhys’s opinion) mixture of confusion and intrigue dusted with disgust. 

“This isn’t one of Y/N’s trashy romance novels.” 

“Or…maybe it is?” Az’s eyes narrow and his shadows stiffen like they’re offended. “Is it really so hard to believe that you’re worthy of a grand love story, brother?”

Azriel frowns, but before he can answer you stumble into the kitchen with Cassian a step behind you to prevent you from falling. Your feet are heavy as your body tries desperately to cling onto sleep. The sight of Azriel leaning against the counter with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips and one of Cas’ oldest sweaters with the sleeves bunched around his wrists prompts you to scurry faster—the soft version of the Shadowsinger is your favorite. 

“Morning, Azzie,” you mumble against his shoulder as you press your face into the soft wool, arms around his waist squeezing tight. Behind you, you hear the familiar low rumble of Rhys’ laughter and are grateful for the opportunity to bury your head further into your mate to hide your blush. You hadn’t noticed him; tunnel vision took over as soon as you saw Az looking sweet and cozy with his baggy clothes and steaming mug of coffee. 

“Oi, I’m here, too,” Rhys teases, prompting Cassian to pull him into a bear hug. 

“Good morning, Rhysie,” he croons, peppering sloppy kisses all over the High Lord’s face. Rhys chokes on his laughter as he tries to shove the brute off of him. 

Cassian is stronger, though, and only tightens his grip further. 

“Careful, brother,” Rhys drawls, suddenly stilling as he catches Az’s dark and stormy gaze locked on them, a slight twitching of his jaw betraying his well-concealed jealousy. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble later.” 

Cas loosens his grip and turns towards Az, grinning at the sight of his mate’s narrowed eyes. 

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping will happen,” he says, swatting at the errant shadow nipping at his neck. 

Rhysand backs away, hands held up in surrender. 

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it. And, Azriel, do try to keep your mind open, trust is a powerful magic.”

With that, a cackling Rhysand disappears, leaving you and Cassian to deal with the sputtering Spymaster left behind.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638@hnyclover@anutellaa@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog@queerqueenlynn@brujitafantomatico @nickishadow139 @starcrossedsan @dustyinkpages

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons #triad #acotar smut #cassian smut #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #cassian x reader smut

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 5 — Your First Time Together

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: We are getting smutty for the next two parts of this series bc we all know what the mating bond is all about haha.

Warnings: This is pure smut lmaoooo

You decide to have your first time together before accepting the mating bond, wanting it to be special and not lost in the frenzy.

Quite honestly, it’s not the situation that any of you thought you’d end up in. A Triad Bond—those are practically unheard of these days. After sharing a bottle of wine (making sure everyone pours their own glass), just sitting in front of the fire and chatting, your anxiety has calmed down, although that might have more to do with the two males sat on either side of you than the alcohol. You’re cuddled up against Az’s chest with Cassian’s arm draped over the back of the couch and curled around the both of you. The two of them are more comfortable with you as a buffer, and you’re more than happy to give them all the time they need to get used to the idea that this bond is an equilateral triangle, not the letter V.

You squirm in Azriel’s grip until you’re face to face with Cas. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s got his bottom lip pulled behind his teeth.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, leaning in to coax his lip free with a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, and you focus on sending a wave of love through the bond. Azriel echoes your sentiment, his shadows swirling around the three of you like they’re trying to weave you together. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?” You pull back and wait until he nods.

Azriel’s grip loosens around your waist.

“I can go if you need me to,” he offers, thinking it might be easier for Cassian if things started off in familiar territory.

“No, stay. Please,” Cas whispers. He reaches over and grabs Az’s hand to keep him anchored.

Az settles, closer this time, and brushes a stray hair off Cas’s forehead. The two of you sit there, holding him as close as possible and basking in the soft golden glow of the mating bond.

It takes Cassian a few minutes, but eventually he speaks up.

“I… I want to, it’s just, um,” he pauses to clear his throat. Az squeezes his hand.

“We know,” he says. You can feel Cas’s nerves fighting against the bond, but they’re losing. Curiosity slowly seeps into place instead and he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that sends heat straight to your core.

All too soon, though, he pulls away and turns his head, bumping noses with Azriel.

“You sure?” Az asks.

“Kiss me, Az,” Cas’s voice is breathy. The words are soft, but the intentions behind them are solid.

Things progress naturally from there. Azriel turns fully so his back is resting against the arm of the sofa and he pulls you in between his legs. Cassian kneels between your legs and captures your lips again while Az scatters featherlight kisses across your shoulder blades. They feel like his shadows.

You slip your hands underneath Cas’s sweater and push it up, letting your fingertips flutter against his muscles, until he breaks away for long enough to pull the blasted thing off and give you full access.

Clothes peel off slowly, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left separating you. Then there are mouths and hands—so many hands!—and you’re squirming in between them, desperate for every bit of friction.

“Bed?” Az asks, when he’s got you writhing on top of him, two fingers pushing inside of you while you pump Cassian’s cock, stroking up his thick length.

You nod into his neck, and when Cas mutters a nearly-incoherent yes, Az winnows the three of you to your bedroom. He throws the you and Cas onto the bed and then tugs Cassian down to the end of the bed until his hips are flush with the edge, and then he slides his hands underneath Cas’s thighs, lifting them up and stripping him bare. Cas curls his toes around the footboard, squirming as cool air surrounds him where it never has before. Mixed with the slickness Az had spread there earlier, it has him gasping for breath.

You help him get situated, propping up his back and neck with pillows, and then drop a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut and he reaches behind his head to wrap his arm around your waist.

“C’mere, Angel,” he mumbles, pulling you closer. You look up and make eye contact with Az, whose eyes darkened with lust at the sight of his mates getting ready for him. He nods and holds out a hand to help you climb on top of Cas to lower yourself down on his cock.

A barely-audible Fuck tickles your ears as your thighs settle around his. It takes you a few minutes to adjust; Azriel steps forward and wraps an arm around you from behind, rubbing soothing circles beneath your belly button where Cas’s tip strains against your stomach.

When you start moving, slow at first, the tension drains from Cassian’s body. His big hands squeeze your waist, helping you lift yourself up.

Az presses in even closer. You feel the tip of his cock between your cheeks, not quite touching Cassian yet.

“Still okay?” He asks. It’s not so much a word but a feeling that crosses from Cas’s mind into yours and Azriel’s—wet, hot desperation pulsates through the threads connecting the three of you.

You lean down to pull Cassian’s tongue into your mouth as Az slides into place. Cas stills when Az bottoms out, muscles tightening again.

Az reaches around you to lace his fingers with Cas’s and squeezes. The bond hums, raining shimmering gold behind your eyelids. You slide your lips against Cas’s in lazy, languid movements that help keep him calm as he adjusts.

The three of you stay there for what feels like a lifetime, totally still, soaking in the feeling of complete and utter peace that surrounds you.

You never knew you were missing a part of you until, suddenly, it’s there. And then, like an exhale, you fall together, limbs twisting up into one giant knot. Azriel’s chest presses against your back and you turn to bury your face in the crook of Cas’s neck, making room for Az to lean down and suck Cas’s bottom lip on between his teeth as he starts to pump on and out of Cas.

Your hips grind down wanting Cassian deeper, claiming you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” Az growls, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

The pet name has both you and Cas squirming, desperate for more. Pleasure builds quickly just like the sweat between your bodies.

You feel Az’s movements start to quicken even more, his arousal pulsing through the bond. Cassian’s fully incoherent, babbling and moaning, overwhelmed by the feeling of his two mates claiming him.

Azriel reaches around and starts circling your clit with two long fingers. You arch against him and tighten around Cas as Az leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Come for me, honey.”

It hits you instantly and you’re gushing on Cassian’s cock, grinding your hips down to milk every last second of pleasure. Az dips two fingers down to collect your slick and then shoves them in Cas’s mouth.

A strangled groan gets caught in Cas’s throat as he sucks on Az’s fingers. His hips buck up into yours, pounding harder and harder until he can’t possibly hold off any longer and spills himself inside of you.

Cas’s head drops back and you fall onto his chest, seeking out skin to skin contact. Az’s orgasm comes in a minute later; he stills behind you and then snaps his hips back a few times to ride it out.

When he’s done, he collapses on the bed next to you and drops his head onto Cas’s chest. The two of you lay there, curled into each other, with Cas’s strong arms cradling you to keep you in place. You can feel faint waves of pleasure coursing through the bond as you bask in the bright, shiny afterglow.

“Mother above,” he mutters. “What do you think it’ll feel like after we accept the bond?”

You lift your head and make eye contact with Az, knowing that the dark temptress of lust clouding his irises is mirrored in your own eyes.

His hand shoots out to stop you when you try to move.

“We can’t,” he says, choking on the words like it physically hurts to say them. “I have a feeling we’re going to need a good night’s sleep first.” With a groan, you let your head thump back onto Cas’s chest. He’s right, but you don’t have to be happy about it.

Az untangles himself from the embrace and tugs you off of Cassian, ignoring your cries of protest. You collapse on the bed in the divot where Az’s body had just been. “I know, I know, but we need to get you cleaned up.”

He squeezes your hand and then disappears into the bathroom. When he returns, he’s got a mug of water and a damp cloth. First, he hands you the mug and you take a few sips. Then you hold the mug to Cas’s lips and coax him into drinking with sweet murmurs.

Az’s touch is gentle, softer than his shadows, when he swipes the cloth through your folds.

You squirm, overstimulated but not complaining, and Az chuckles.

“So fucking needy,” he tuts, using his free hand to push the stray hairs off your forehead. “I can’t wait to see what you’re like during the frenzy.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead then moves over to Cassian. The general closes his eyes and tips his head back as beautiful red roses bloom on his cheeks. Az is just as soft with a Cas, and a quiet sigh slips out of his lips.

The strangled groan that escapes Az is primal and he has to turn away from you to cool the burning in his veins.

“You two are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons #triad #acotar smut #cassian smut #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #cassian x reader smut

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 4 — Cas and Az Figure Their Shit Out

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is my fave part so far so I hope you love it as much as I do!

Warnings: Very very short but graphic allusions to sexual content

It takes three days for Cassian and Azriel to come to terms with the idea of a Triad Bond, but they talk it out with words instead of fists so as not to agitate the bond (or you).

Rhys’ mediation helps their anger and insecurities calm down enough and then they go their separate ways for a while to think. Cassian takes to the training ring, letting his body fall into the familiar routine and freeing his mind up to wander.

He pushed himself through the uncomfortable flip of his stomach and thought about Azriel as a potential mate. They’d been friends for so long, brothers for so long, that some things were easy to picture.

Drinking of tea by the fireplace after a long mission, only instead of sitting on opposite armchairs, they’d curl up on the couch. Maybe Az would put his feet in Cas’ lap and hold his tea in one hand and a book in the other, reading out loud this time.

Eating breakfast with everyone at the Townhouse, scarfing down sausage with one hand and holding Az’s with the other, locking their fingers together underneath the table.

Standing on the balcony at the House of Wind on Starfall, underneath the glow of thousands of cascading stars. Letting his head fall onto Az’s shoulder.

Other things, however, were not so easy to picture. He couldn’t get past taking Az’s shirt off in his mind. As soon as he saw the flat expanse of golden skin, he froze and his brain went numb. Everything he knows about sex stops there. What are you supposed to do without breasts to start things off?

But then a thought sharpened into focus. Kissing. That wasn’t fundamentally any different between males and females…

Azriel, on the other hand, had long since come to terms with the fact that he enjoys the company of males as well as females. His nights at the pleasure halls were more eventful than most, but he kept them locked up deeper than the classified secrets that could destroy courts and tear alliances apart.

He liked to keep work and play separate. Cassian was always off limits; he never let his mind go there. But now his self control was unraveling strand by strand, peeling back the layers of armor and exposing his deepest, truest thoughts.

Shadows flit around the room like anxious butterflies as he paces in his office, wings tucked in tight so he doesn’t knock into anything.

Magic courses through his veins—thick cords of it wind around his neck and up into his brain, flooding it with white hot thoughts.

They’re memories, at first. Cassian pinning him down in the training ring, thick thighs squeezing Az’s waist, chests heaving hard enough to touch.

Your featherlight fingertips trailing up his arm, testing for nerve damage.

Cas’s arms around his waist and shoulders, holding him up after he got shot out of the sky by ash arrows, helping him back to base camp.

You patching him up afterwards, the three of you packed into the tiny tent, breathing in each other’s air.

But then things morph into fantasies. You riding his cock while Cassian rides his face.

Two sets of hands on hips and thighs, two tongues, two pairs of lips…

He shakes his head and, when that doesn’t drain the filth, he bangs his fist against the desk, leaving a crater in the wood.

Az? Everything okay? It’s Rhys, invading his head. He groans—caught with his defenses down.

I’m fine.

Doesn’t seem like it.

Fuck off.

Rhys obeys, immediately shutting off their connection. Two minutes later, there’s a knock at his office door. He waves his hand to open it and Azriel stands there with storms in his eyes and shadows nipping at his heels.

The High Lord’s smile could brighten all of Prythian.

“Don’t even think about it,” Az growls, stalking into the room to resume his pacing there.

Rhysand sits back in his chair, pulling one leg up to rest his foot on the opposite knee, knowing that with Azriel, it was a waiting game. He was the only one who could match the Shadowsinger’s patience.

But it’s a new record; it only takes ten minutes for him to crack this time.

“It’s Cassian,” he hisses. “Cassian.”

“I know it’s unexpected, and unconventional, but…” Azriel’s voice cuts through Rhys’ like it’s Truthteller.

“That’s not the problem. It’s Cassian, Rhys.”

Recognition crests across Rhys’s face. Smugness follows in its wake.

“Oh, brother, you dirty dog! You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I was perfectly happy separating business and pleasure until this Cauldron-damned bond came along!”

“And now you can’t stop picturing Cassian all hot and sweaty, rubbing those thick hands alongside your—“

“Yes, okay?”

“Let me guess. You’re worried that he won’t accept the bond, accept you. And you’re scared of pushing too hard, that you’re going to scare him?”

Azriel’s silence is answer enough. Rhys listens to the barely-there tapping of Az’s shoes on the stone floor, waiting again.

But then the tapping stops and Az drops into the chair in front of Rhys’s desk.

“What do I do?” He asks, hanging his head and running a slender hand through his hair.

“Have you tried tugging on the bond?” Az glares at him. “Try it. Let him know you’re there. Think of it like a peace offering.”

Az sleeps on it. He thinks about it all day, but ultimately can’t force himself to do it.

That night while he’s in bed tossing and turning because the turbulent magic is rattling his brain, he feels a tug and a flash of golden magic sprinkled with red. His breath catches in his throat—Cassian.

He tugs back, still holding his breath. Cas tugs once more and then Az and throws off his quilt and crosses the hall to knock on the general’s door.

“I want to accept the bond,” Cas says as he opens the door, ushering Az into his bedroom. “But before we do, I think we should, um…”

Az waits, leaning back against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised.

“Kiss.” Cassian finishes, tucking his chin to his chest to hide the pink peonies blooming to life on his cheeks. Az watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, letting the tension settle like dust, giving it time to flutter into place.

Cassian shifts. It’s subtle, but Azriel can smell a faint hint of arousal. He pushes himself off the doorframe and kicks the door shut behind him, crossing the room in three long strides.

He leans in until his nose brushes against Cas’s, a shadow against his lips.

“Are you certain?” He asks, searching Cassian’s eyes for the truth.

“Yes,” Cassian whispers, puffing pillows of air that tickle Az’s skin.

Azriel pushes forward, wrapping one arm around Cas’s neck to thread his fingers in the hair at its base. When their lips touch, all traces of anxiety melt into pure, peaceful pleasure. A low hum of magic seems to pass from mouth to mouth, skin to skin.

When Az pulls back, Cassian is grinning, practically glowing with gold and purple magic.

Az grins back.

They knock on your door the next evening, arms laden with bottles of wine and the most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen in your love, covered in delicate sugar flowers.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 2 — Aftermath of the Mating Bond

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Masterlist

A/N: Here’s another part of my Cazriel x Reader headcanon universe that probably needs a better name if I’m gonna keep up with it. Validation works everyone!!! Also you’re def in Mor’s room because they couldn’t agree on whose room to go to and had to take you to neutral territory bc they are big dumb idiots.

PART 0 PART 1

You wake up at the Townhouse, in Mor’s room, completely alone. It feels like you’re being torn in two from the inside out.

In the hallway, Cas and Az sit with their backs against the wall on either side of the door, arguing in barely-audible whispers.

“We can’t go in there,” Az hisses.

“It’s been fourteen hours! We should at least try to use the bond to help,” Cassian grumbles back.

Yet somehow you can hear them through the wall; a ghost of their words kisses your ears.

“It’s Y/N’s choice whether to accept or not. We cannot take that choice away from her.”

“How long are we going to wait out here? Until she dies?”

You curl up on your side and press your hands against your ears. Your body shakes with the conflicting magics rumbling through you.

“Amren and Mor are digging up everything they can find about Triad Bonds. If there’s anyone I trust to track something down, it’s those two.”

“How long will that take? A week? A month? A year? I can’t sit back for much longer. Not all of us have mountains of patience like you.”

“No, some have thimbles.”

Fighting. They’re fighting and, somehow, your magic is fighting alongside with them, split from a deep violet into strings of blue and red that battle for dominance. Surrounded by golden flames that burn through your veins, filling them with the sharp sting of lightning.

“Clear your mind, like I told you. Conjure up your shields.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, like it’s that easy.”

“STOP!” You scream. When the boys burst in, your back is arched so far that only your fingertips and your toes are touching the bed.

“Y/N,” Cassian shouts, diving for you. Azriel’s shadows reach you first, swirling up your legs and arms. Cold snakes its way towards your heart, soothing your burning magic like putting a hot bath on an aching muscle. It can only dull what’s already there.

Cassian pulls you to his chest and falls back onto the bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers, shoving the sweaty hairs off your forehead. “We’re here, Angel.”

The red magic is swallowed back into purple and the pain eases up a little bit, freeing your mind from the hazy fog covering it.

“Wh-what’s happening to me?” You ask, words wobbly as they escape your trembling lips. “It’s like my magic is… tearing me apart.”

Cas’s head whips around and in an instant, Azriel is behind him. It hits them both at the same time, that your pain is their fault. That if they were feeling such strong emotions it must be doubled for you.

Your body is flooded with guilt and shame for a second, and then the golden flames die down as the blue magic is folded into the violet. Collapsing against Cassian’s chest, the golden magic reaches out for Azriel, mirrored by your hands. It takes a second for you to realize that they’re clutching the front of his jacket, pulling him flush against Cassian’s back.

Realization hits you like a blow to the chest, rattling your heart.

“Is this the mating bond?” You ask, pulling back just enough to see two pairs of eyes full of conflicting emotions.

“Yeah, baby, it is,” Az says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He wraps his arms around you and Cassian and the golden magic settles over you like a thick wool blanket. You open your mouth to speak but Az shushes you. “It’s okay, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. For now, you need to rest.”

Despite the part of you that aches for answers, you can’t help but drift off to sleep to the steady rhythm of their hands on your body, soothing you to sleep with gentle touches.

Answers will come eventually; for now, you’re completely content.

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons