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#cazriel x you
illyrian-dreamer · 8 months
Text
Our Girl – Part 4
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst
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.
Word count: 7.3k
Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]
You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.
You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 
“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 
“I don't want to risk what I have here.”
“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”
“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”
“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”
A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.
“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”
You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”
“And you me, young spark.” 
So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.
————
“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.
“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 
You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.
“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.
“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.
It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.
You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”
Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.
No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?
You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 
“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 
“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”
“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”
“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”
Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 
“And they are for you, of course.”
You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 
“For me?”
“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”
“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”
“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 
Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”
Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”
He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.
You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.
“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 
“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”
“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 
“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.
Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”
Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.
“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”
“No, no I–”
“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”
You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”
The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 
You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”
Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 
“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”
“Of course,” he said softly.
You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 
“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”
You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 
“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”
You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.
“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”
Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 
“You are incredible.”
You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 
“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”
Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.
He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”
Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 
Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 
Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 
Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 
Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 
He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”
You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.
“Are you cer–?”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 
Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 
Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.
Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 
“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 
“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”
“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 
Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 
Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 
Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.
“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 
You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.
Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”
You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”
“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.
————
One month later
Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.
Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 
“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 
“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”
Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 
————
The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 
Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 
“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”
“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”
“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”
You laughed freely. “How is she?”
“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 
“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 
“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 
Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”
Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.
You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”
“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”
You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”
Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”
You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”
Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 
The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 
But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 
 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 
“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.
And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 
That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 
A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 
It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 
Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?
Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.
No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 
You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.
Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 
Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 
Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 
They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 
————
Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 
You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 
————
“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 
The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 
“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”
The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”
“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”
It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 
It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 
Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 
There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 
Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.
So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 
You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 
But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 
“You look well,” he said. 
You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 
“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 
“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”
Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 
“He still… asks about you,” she added. 
Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.
“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”
Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”
The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.
————
“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 
You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 
“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 
You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 
“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”
“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”
“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 
There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 
“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.
“Very much so.”
“And Tamlin is–”
“A friend,” you said quickly. 
“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.
You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 
“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”
“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 
It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 
“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”
Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 
Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 
Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.
“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”
Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 
“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”
You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”
“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 
“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”
“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’
“Yes.”
“Do you forgive us?”
Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 
“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 
“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”
“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 
A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 
“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 
You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 
But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 
Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 
It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 
“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 
“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 
————
You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 
Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 
To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 
“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 
“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 
“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”
“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”
“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.
You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 
“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 
“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 
You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 
And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 
————
You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 
“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 
“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.
“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 
Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.
No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 
“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 
Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”
“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 
You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 
“What are you doing here?” you countered.
Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 
“Answer me,” you ground out. 
Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 
“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 
That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 
You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.
“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 
The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 
“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 
“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 
You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 
Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”
“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 
“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 
“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 
“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 
Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”
You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”
You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.
And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”
You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 
“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”
Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 
“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 
But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 
“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 
What did she mean by that?
“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 
“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“
“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 
Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”
You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”
Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”
Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 
“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”
“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”
You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 
“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 
“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”
“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 
Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 
“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?
“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”
It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 
“Please Y/N, come home.”
Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 
“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 
Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 
And you hated it. 
“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.
Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 
“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”
“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…
They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 
“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.
“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.
“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.
“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.
It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 
A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 
You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 
-------
Part 5>>>
AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!
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shadowdaddies · 26 days
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How about a drabble of Cass and Az touching their mate’s wings for the first time. Maybe she has more sensitive wings than the average Illyrian? I love your writing 💖💖
this was so sweet, thank you for the request 💜 it has some angst that I couldn't avoid since it's a female Illyrian, but it's overall very fluffy and lovely
New Memories
Azriel x Reader x Cassian
warnings: mentions of past trauma (attempted wing clipping), light smut (wing play)
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“Hi, sweetheart,” Cassian greeted, his rough voice soothing as you padded towards the bed where your mates lay. 
Azriel’s eyes glowed with appreciation at the sight of you in your nightgown, the short lacy fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. 
“Did you have a good day?” Azriel hummed, moving over to one side of the bed as he lifted the covers to help you crawl between the two males. 
Settling into the bed, you sighed at the feeling of soft pillows cradling your neck, the proximity to your mates and the warmth of the comforter sending resounding peace through your tired bones.
“It was very good,” you murmured, head leaning against Cassian’s shoulder while your hand reached to hold Azriel’s. Cassian set down the book he’d been reading, putting it aside in favor of wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
A calloused fingertip brushed the tip of your wing, sending you into shock as you jumped out of both your mates’ hold. Cassian instantly shot to his feet, and you turned to see wide hazel eyes glassy with barely contained emotion.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to... I was trying to put my arm around you, sweetheart. I promise,” Cassian breathed, strong arms folded across himself in shame. 
His guilt and pain reverberated through the bond with dizzying force, the emotions so strong it nearly broke your heart. Opening your mouth to speak, Azriel chimed in from behind you first.
“Hey,” the shadowsinger cooed, voice gentle as he refrained from touching you in favor of sending a cool shadow to brush your arm. “Are you okay? Talk to us.”
Inhaling a deep breath, you tried willing yourself to calm, but once your eyes were closed, memories of the last - and only - time your wings had been touched flashed through your mind. Your older brothers holding you down, your father gathering the tools to clip your wings. Your screams ringing through Windhaven in a desperate plea for the Mother to have mercy on you.
The last thing you remembered was a flashing of blue and red light, raw power shaking the foundations of your home as you were swept into familiar arms. It was the watershed moment of your life - the most important, the most harrowing, the most blessed - when your mates found you.
You’d never allowed anyone to touch your wings in the months since then. It was an act only associated with pain and suffering for you. But the feeling of Cassian’s hand, so gentle and tender against your body, brought you to a realization.
You looked up at Azriel, giving him a gentle smile as you reached back out for his hand. Turning to where Cassian stood, you let your feelings flow down the bond - the pain, the trauma, and the softness and hope you felt from him.
“Come here, Cass,” you whispered, patting the bed where he had been just moments before. You sat up against the headboard, bringing both of your mates into sight as you took a deep breath. 
“I would like for you to touch my wings,” you announced, voice shaking from nerves. Cassian’s guilty expression did not let up, Azriel’s own face showing concern that propelled you to continue. “The only memories I have of my wings being touched are by those who didn’t love or respect me. I want to change that. I don’t want to give them the power of being the only ones to touch such a valuable part of me.”
You took each of their hands in your own, sitting up to let your wings fully flare open behind you. “I want those memories to belong with the males I love, so while I would like to go slowly... It would mean the world to me, if you would show me how wings are meant to be touched.”
“Oh, angel,” Azriel purred, eyes darkening as his shadows danced. “You are meant to be worshipped. Every part of you.”
You flushed under his intense presence, averting your gaze to Cassian to find the other Illyrian male eyeing you just as hungrily. 
“You are a goddess,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you. Tucking a long onyx strand behind his ear, Cassian moved closer to you, he and Azriel moving in sync like practiced warriors.
Your wings twitched behind you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach with anticipation. Shadows slipped over the edges of Azriel’s shoulders, skating soothing motions over your arms and legs, twining in your hair. 
“You tell us if you are, at any moment, uncomfortable,” he spoke, the shadowsinger’s low voice like gravel.
You nodded frantically, nerves quickly turning to excitement as you felt the warmth emanating from Cassian’s hand at the tip of your wing. His eyes locked on yours as his fingertip met the outside, barely-there soft touch dragging down the edge.
An abrupt moan escaped your lips, catching you by surprise as your back arched dramatically. “Fuck,” you breathed, the sensations shooting straight to your core.
You heard a low chuckle to your other side, Azriel’s breath tickling your other wing. His eyes flicked to Cassian. “She’s sensitive,” he purred, and both males turned to smirk at you in a way that sent heat pooling between your legs.
Azriel’s scarred fingertip settled on your talon, testing the waters with barely restrained desire. You held his gaze, allowing the pleasure to show on your face as he slid down the prominent vein inside of your wing. 
Soft moans echoed through the air, and you slumped against the cushions, wings spread beneath you as your mates took turns bringing new forms of pleasure to you. A familiar coil began to tighten in your abdomen, and your gaze flicked to Azriel in shock, only to find him looking down at you with pure male satisfaction.
“Yes,” he answered your silent question. “You can finish if your wings are touched the right way.”
Cassian growled lowly next to you, his arousal prominent from where he sat on the bed. “Would you like that? To finish like this?”
Breath escaped you, all-consuming need distracting you from everything else in the world. Managing a nod, you barely registered their warmth breath as both males drew closer to you. 
Wet tongues flicked out together against each of your talons, Azriel and Cassian working in a dance to hit each sensitive spot with flawless expertise. Slick grew between your legs, your body writhing on the sheets as their soft touches and warmth flooded your senses.
You crashed into your high almost too quickly, head tilted back as you moaned curses and praises incoherently. Heart pounding, you came down from your orgasm to feel Azriel’s hand holding your own, calloused thumb stroking the back of it.
“How do you feel, love?” Cassian murmured, settling in next to you to press a kiss to your temple. The tenderness with which they held you, the comfort unlike which you had ever known, the love you felt down the bond - everything hit you at once, and tears sprang in your eyes.
Before Cassian could pull away again, you reached your hand out for him, pulling both the general and Az toward you in a warm embrace. “They’re happy tears, Cass,” you assured him through your sniffling laughter.
They seemed to understand, not pushing further questions as both males settled back into their spots on either side of you, arms wrapping around your waist as the three of you settled to sleep. How peaceful it was to be touched so tenderly, to be touched by those you love.
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hellsenthero · 3 months
Text
A Brothers Mate
Azriel X FemReader X Cassian
You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.
Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)
MASTERLIST
-----
You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.
Azriel leaded against the wall, arm crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.
It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.
“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.
“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.
“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.
The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.
“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.
“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.
“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.
“Who says he isn't?”
You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”
“Hello, sweets,”
“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”
“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”
You let out a small laugh. “Right.”
Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.
“He's right, Y/N.”
You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…
You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.
“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.
“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.
“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.
“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.
That comment had you pausing. “Why?”
Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.
“Isn't it obvious?”
You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.
“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.
Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.
You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.
“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.
“I can't,” you admitted.
“C'mon sweets, say it.”
You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”
The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.
“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”
“How long have you known?” You asked.
“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”
“I do.” You admitted.
“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.
The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.
“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.
Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”
“No,” you answered truthfully.
“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”
“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.
“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.
“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”
Their grins were answer enough.
The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.
You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.
“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.
You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.
Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.
Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.
“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”
“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”
“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.
“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”
You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”
“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.
“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.
“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”
The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”
“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.
You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”
The Shadowsinger complied.
“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.
“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.
You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.
Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.
“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.
Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.
That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “He likes it, Az.”
Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course he does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”
You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.
“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.
“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.
“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.
“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.
You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.
Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.
You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.
And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.
“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.
“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.
“So, so good,” you babbled.
“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.
Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.
“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.
“Absolutely.”
Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.
“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.
“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.
The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.
“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.
Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.
After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.
—-
It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.
“Why?” Azriel asked.
“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”
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danikamariewrites · 7 days
Note
Okay but being mated to Az, Cass, and Nesta but you don’t know and a foreign dignitary comes to stay at the House of Wind with the four of you and Rhys asks you to seduce/be flirty with them and the three of them are absolutely feral trying to keep their jealousy down
Just One Night
Nessian x Azriel x reader
A/n: I’ve been dying to write another fic with these four! They would absolutely want to kill Rhys for this especially Nesta.
Warnings: possessive Nessian & Azriel
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Today is the day. Nesta had decided for the group that today they would tell you about the bond. She was just waiting for you all to get out of a meeting with Rhys and her sister. The last thing Nesta wanted was to confess the bond - and her love for you - in front of Rhys.
Nesta heard the angry footsteps echoing off the marble floor of her mates before she saw them. Setting her book down she tilted her head curiously at their disgruntled looks. The males dropped into their respective arms chairs letting out dejected sighs. Nesta stood with her arms crossed and a raised brow as she looked between the two.
“Well.” She said sharply. Azriel let out a low growl from the back of his throat. She felt his annoyance down the bond and looked to Cassian for an answer. Sighing through his mouth and rubbing the bridge of his nose Cassian bites out, “Rhys is having her seduce the emissary from Montesere. Cyrus Yarrow.”
When they looked up at Nesta those silver flames were dancing with anger in her eyes. Her left one practically twitching. “He’s having her do what?” She growled. Nesta turned on her heel, black dress flaring dramatically. Cassian grabbed her wrist before she could go give Rhys a piece of her mind.
Her fist balled. The first and only warning Cassian would get to release her. Letting go his open hand hovered cautiously. “Wait. She, just…she took the job. She knows what to get from the guy and we won’t let it get farther than that, yeah?” Nesta cracked her neck, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Fine.”
“You don’t want to be overbearing, Nes.” Azriel said. That deep, even voice relaxing her. “You’re right.” She looked back at her mates as Azriel waved her over. His arms open for her. Without hesitating Nesta sat on Azriel’s thigh, resting her head against his chest. “I know you’re impatient,” he says against her hair, “the Mother knows we are too, but we want to make it special for her.”
———
Pulling out the garment bag from your closet a knock sounded at your bedroom door. “Come in!” You hear whom ever enter, shuffling around the room. Nesta poked her head in your closet. You smile at her, “Hey you.” She gives you an equally dazzling smile. For a moment you swear something like love sparkles in her eyes.
Your heart leaped at the thought then quickly sunk. Remembering how in love she is with Cass. Blinking rapidly you plaster that smile back on your face. “What’s up?” You ask lightly. “I thought we could get ready for the ball together.”
You nod vigorously. “I would love that.” You and Mor used to get ready together - Feyre too - until she found Emerie. Usually when Rhys gave you a job for the evening you liked to get ready alone. Being alone lets you think through your plan for the night. Being with Nesta will be a nice change though. She was able to distract you from the awaiting nightmare of Cyrus.
Cyrus Yarrow was renowned for the females he chose to surround himself with. Always beautiful and charming. He was also quite demanding and handsy when he found something he liked. A shiver runs down your spine causing you to shake, your chin dropping to your chest.
Looking back up you saw Nesta had moved closer to your face. Her hand poised to draw with the kohl on your lid. “Are you ok?” You give her a small nod. “Stay still,” she giggled. A warmth bloomed in your chest at the sound.
———
The ball was in full swing. Nesta had stolen you for the first dance before you were swept away by Cyrus. Azriel had grabbed her waist before she could kill the male, dragging her into a waltz she could do in her sleep. Cassian was sending waves of calm to her down the bond. He stepped in for Az once the song was over. Also so Azriel could keep an eye on you for the night.
“Remember what Azriel said, Nes.” She gave him a curt nod, looking over her shoulder for you as they spin around the floor. “Hey,” Cass demanded, taking his hand from her waist to grip her chin. “She is fine. She is capable. I know the instinct to protect her and be by her is intense, we’re feeling it too. But tomorrow, he will be gone.” “Yeah.” She mumbled. Cassian pressed a quick kiss to Nesta’s lips before dipping her dramatically.
Azriel watched from the shadows as you entertained Cyrus. His party from Montesere was nothing like him. Kind and proper as they chatted with Mor and Feyre. His eyes bounced between the groups wanting to make sure that his court was safe. Feyre stood up straighter. A shocked and confused look pulling at her features.
He met his High Lady’s gaze and she tapped on his mental shield wasting no time in updating her spymaster. Cyrus no longer held the power they were told about. His Lord had stripped his title a week ago. This relieved Azriel. It meant he wouldn’t feel guilty about pulling you away from work and that Rhys wouldn’t give him a tongue lashing.
The Shadowsinger was about to step in and save you from Cyrus’s awfulness when a panicked feeling froze him in place. His shadows had reported Nesta and Cassian were safe. He even spotted them smiling and laughing as they danced.
When the realization hit Azriel that it was you projecting your feelings down the bond ran to you, sending his shadows ahead to pull Cyrus off of you. The look of disgust on your face had his instincts to protect you screaming at him to go.
Azriel drew Truth Teller, holding it to Cyrus’s neck. “Back away from my mate.” Azriel said practically roared. The fae around them stopped, gasps sounded through the crowd as they stared. You clung to Azriel’s arm through the whole ordeal. As the word mate left his mouth you stared up at Az, your eyes twinkling with love.
You had always had a crush on Azriel. But Nesta, you thought to yourself. No, you’d let her go. You have Az now. “Mate,” you repeat. Azriel stilled as the realization of the word he just spoke dawned on him. He slowly turned to look at you. The corners of your lip turning up at the his shock.
“Yeah, umm…” His gaze drifted behind you. You followed his gaze to find a stunned Cassian and a fuming Nesta. “Az?” You ask softly. The party had resumed around you as the couple stepped closer. Cassian placed his hands on Nesta’s shoulders in a calming manner. “Why don’t we all go talk somewhere else.” Cass suggested. “Why do we all,” you trail off as Nesta grabs your hand to drag you out of the ball room.
You kept looking between Nesta, Azriel, and Cassian as she leads you to the living quarters of the House of Wind. Her iron grip never leaving you. Entering the main living room Nesta drops your hand making a beeline for the bar cart housing one of Rhys’s expensive bottles of whiskey. Pouring herself a finger she downs the amber liquid in one go.
“I thought,” she started, her tone dangerously calm, “we wanted to make it special. To do something sweet for our mate.” Nesta flashed her perfect canines in a saccharine smile at the males. Azriel’s jaw tightened. His head dropped, clearly frustrated with himself.
You hold his hand with both of yours. Running your thumb across the back of his hand in calming circles. Nesta’s words caught up with your brain. Our, she had said.
You looked at her with wide eyes. “Our? As in all three of you are my mates.” Cassian couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah sweetheart. You have all three of us. We’ve been waiting to tell you and we wanted to make it special. Cyrus just got in the way.” You covered your mouth as happy tears lined your eyes. That warm feeling in your chest that appeared with Nesta earlier returning. The bond glowing fiercely as it branched out to all three of them.
You sink on to the plush couch taking in the information. You have been blessed with three mates. Each one you were madly in love with. And you get to love them all for the rest of your life!
Cassian came to sit beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side. You could sense the apology on his lips before he could even say it. Cassian has always been too apologetic for his own good. You grabbed his hand resting on his thigh. “I’m not mad. I am incredibly happy to hear this.” Cassian’s head dropped to rest on yours. Azriel takes the spot next to you wrapping his arms around your waist pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You stare at Nesta who hadn’t moved an inch since you entered the room. You wave her over to join couch snuggles, tugging on the bond to entice her. Nesta ran at you. Jumping to straddle your lap and pushing Cass and Az off you. You hugged her tightly inhaling her scent of fire and steel masked by the vanilla and almond perfume she wears.
“I love you so much, y/n.” She whispered just for you to hear. “I love you, Nes. With all my heart.” You whispered back, just for her to hear.
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Text
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
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sapphireillyrian · 18 days
Text
Masterlist
Old blog
Hey fellow SJM tumblr fam! I’m finally taking the dive and I’m going to attempt to be as consistent on tumblr as I possibly can be. I have raging adhd and executive dysfunction problems so I tend to go in and out of feeling productive and creative, please be patient with me. But I’ve been really inspired as of late and I have a fic that I’ve been working on for the last few weeks that I’m super excited to start sharing. My asks and requests are open as well ❤️
Our Raven - Azriel x Cassian x Reader
Part One - Coming Soon!!!
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nova-stardragon · 1 year
Text
If Only You Knew, Chapter 16 Out Now!
Hey howdy hi
Is it Monday night? Probably. Hopefully.
Go read the new chapter on AO3 :)
Preview below!
Rhysand
Azriel and I were sitting side by side, working through my correspondence from the other courts. Feyre was watching us work, since she was frustrated by an art piece and had ‘needed a break.’
I just finished drafting a response to a trade request from the Winter Court when I felt Azriel go still.
“Rhys, why would Eris Vanserra be writing to us, concerned about his youngest brother interacting with the other solar courts?”
I looked up at Azriel. Feyre inhaled sharply. Rhys -
Az looked between the two of us, then heaved a sigh. “Rhys, how can I accurately be your spymaster if you keep secrets from me?”
“It was my fault.” Feyre said. “I’m the one that figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” Azriel said, puzzled. Then he looked down at the letter in his hand. He thought about it. He looked up at me, the only sign he figured it out the shock in his hazel eyes. “Shit.”
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throneofsapphics · 7 months
Text
the ebb and flow of fate
Cazriel x f!Reader (Mor’s sister)
(part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)
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Summary: “Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 
Word Count: ~6.2k
Warnings: eventual smut in later chapters, sexual assault, harassment, stalking, nightmares, light smut-ish (m/m, briefly described), light angst, liberal use of bargains, minors dni!
A/N: this was written for day 20 of my kink/angst-tober prompts but, my patience is limited and I needed to get this out of into the world and out of my brain for a bit. part 2 will be posted 10/20.
Something in her had been … off, ever since she visited a friend in the Autumn Court. Of course, they had all heavily protested her choice, but she’d been a friend of hers for years, and she firmly held her ground - insisting everything would be fine and that they didn’t know of her relation to them. 
It was driving all of them to the verge of insanity trying to figure out exactly what happened. Rhys gently probed against her mind once, and was immediately shut out - the walls going up like impenetrable iron gates, and a litany of creative curses were shouted down the hall. 
-
“How was your visit?” Mor asked hesitantly. She was curled up in an armchair, eyes quickly scanning the page, a full plate of food - likely a few hours old, still on the table beside her. 
“Fine.” Y/n replied, not looking up. The same answer she’d given everyone all week. 
“Any more details?” She probed. 
She slammed the book shut, looking up at her. “What else do you want me to say?” Her voice was low, and she could tell her anger was rising to dangerous levels. Maybe it would be worth provoking y/n’s temper, if only to get some kind of reaction out of her. 
“You won’t eat, you won’t talk to us, and you’re walking around like a gods-damned ghost.” 
She plucked a grape from the plate next to it, popping it in her mouth with an indignant look on her face. “Better?” Gods, she was going to kill her - sister or not. 
“I want you to tell me what the fuck happened before Rhys and I storm over there and kill someone.” Mor spat, rising to her feet. Y/n rose with her, throwing the blanket off, fists clenched at her side. 
“That’s not necessary.” 
“You can tell us anything, you know that right?” She tried to keep her voice gentle, soft even.
“I’m aware,” she snipped, “but that doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.” 
“For Cauldron’s sake.” She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before leaving the room - in case she said or did anything she regretted. 
“Any luck?” Rhys asked from the end of the hallway. 
“Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.” 
He grimaced, but turned to stride with her. “It’s been three days.” He said quietly, “Cassian and Azriel will be back tomorrow.” 
If anyone can get answers out of her, it would be those two. Even Amren couldn’t reach her. 
-
“Where’s y/n?” Cassian asked the next day. Mor looked to Rhys with a grimace. A shadow curled around Azriel’s ear. 
“In her room probably.” Mor replied. The same place she’d spent most of her time in. 
“Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 
He relayed the message, and they all heard the sound of something slamming - along with a wince from Rhys. Mor figured she’d likely shouted something into his mind. Two minutes passed, and nothing. Cassian glanced at Azriel, and the two Illyrians rose - heading down the hall.  
“Good luck.” Mor muttered behind them and Rhys snorted. 
-
“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian’s voice echoed through the room as her door swung open - hitting the wall hard enough there might be a small dent. 
“Nothing.” She muttered, turning over in her bed and tugging the blankets closer to her. Azriel exchanged a look with him. 
“Get up.” Cassian barked. 
“Fuck off.” 
“Not happening princess.” He strode towards the side of the bed, ripping the blanket back. He was greeted by a book careening towards his face, one he deflected with a shield. “You can do better than that.” He tugged the pillow out from under her and she shot up to sit. His stance widened, feet braced on the floor - prepared for a fight. 
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. 
Cassian hummed, tilting his head as if he was debating it. “No.” 
“On your feet or over his shoulder, your choice.” Azriel said from behind him. His voice was flat and smooth. Another book launched - where the hell had it come from? And Cassian let it fly over his head, knowing exactly who it was aimed for. A low snarl came from the corner of the room, and Azriel strode up to stand next to him, forming a wall. Y/n, of course, didn’t look intimidated and no fear came from her - but he did see caution in her eyes. 
“You’re a brat.” The shadowsinger commented, with a tilt of his head. A predator assessing her, waiting for her next move. 
She sent him a vulgar gesture, and apparently Azriel was fed up because quicker than she could react, he had her slung over his shoulder, stalking out her door with a shield covering his wings. 
Smart, he thought as he followed, he didn’t doubt y/n would use that to her advantage. She’s done it before, raking her nails up his wings and nearly getting herself killed. 
He deposited her at the table, shoving her down into the seat next to him before pushing it in. Cassian took up vigil on her other side. If he thought she was angry before, she was absolutely fuming now - sending both him and Azriel a look that promised a slow, slow death. He rolled his eyes, he’d been on the receiving ends of that look frequently, and it didn’t phase him. 
“I thought it was over your shoulder.” Rhys’s voice flooded into his mind. 
“Azriel took care of it.” 
“Obviously. Did she throw anything at you?” 
“Yes.” A strained chuckle came from Rhys, and he felt his presence leave. 
She sat there, taking small sips of water and avoiding eye contact from anyone. 
Cassian let out a low groan before filling her plate with food. 
Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance, their eyes glazing over slightly. “We have things to take care of,” Mor gave an awkward excuse and they both rose. Leaving them to the wolves, then. Wolf - actually. 
“Don’t make me feed you like a child.” Azriel told her when the two were out of earshot. 
“You wouldn’t,” y/n countered, but didn’t sound confident. Azriel reached for her fork, and she snatched it away from him, spearing a piece of food instead and slowly raising it to her mouth. 
“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Cassian asked her. 
She ignored the question, choosing to eat small bites of food instead. 
“Or I can go find out for myself,” Azriel offered. 
“No,” she said too quickly. “Don’t.” 
-
She was confident Azriel would go find out what happened, and that’s not what she wanted. Regardless of whether he heard it from her or figured it out himself, it wouldn’t go over well. But, if they were here when they did learn there’s a better chance of her de-escalating the situation. 
“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her hand shook, palms going clammy. She saw them exchange a worried look out of her peripherals and for some reason it incensed her further. She’d had enough of people worrying. Well, she fully knew she’d been acting like a ‘brat’ as Az would say for the last few days. But, in her defense they were all busy-bodies who couldn’t mind their own damn business. 
“When will you be?” Cassian sounded … gentle, almost. Like she was some breakable doll. She firmly placed a lid down on her anger, shoving it away. 
“I’ll let you know.” 
“You have until tomorrow night.” Azriel cut in. With a low and obnoxious groan, she slumped in her seat. “Finish your food,” he directed. A particularly nasty look was shot his way, but she relented. 
There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d make her eat if she refused. The two of them were overbearing and annoying, but meant well. Y/n knew Rhys had sent them in, considering his, Mor’s and even Amren’s attempts had all failed. 
“I thought you’d be happier to see us,” Cassian teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “It’s been two weeks.” 
“I am happy to see you,” she mumbled. It’s the truth, she was glad to see him, and if she’d actually known they were back she probably would’ve left to at least check they’re in one piece. 
As soon as she’d cleared her plate, Cassian looped his arm in between hers - not giving her a chance to go anywhere. “We’re training.” 
“I just ate.” She protested, but it didn’t work. Azriel trailed them outside, hopefully to make sure Cassian didn’t end up working her to the point she threw up. 
-
She realized the mistake exactly as it happened, both arms raising for a block - and her shirt lifting as well. Revealing two yellowing hand print shaped bruises on her waist. She forced her expression to remain still, to not react, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. But, Cassian stilled. Eyes focused on where her shirt now covered her stomach. Y/n could’ve taken the opportunity to strike him, but didn’t. 
“Where are those from?” He asked her, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. They’d caught Azriel’s attention as well, from where he was standing a few paces away from the ring. Based on the predatory look of rage in his eyes, he’d seen everything. 
“None of -”
“Don’t.” The general cut in shortly. 
“It’s fine.” She insisted, going on the defensive. 
“Is that … part of what has you upset?” His throat bobbed, and she could tell he was trying very hard to keep himself calm. Y/n turned and ducked out of the ring, returning her sword to the rack. There was no use in lying to them, they both always knew when she was. And when she badgered them for her tells, they refused. So, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to deal with the fall out. 
“Yes. I took care of it already.” Her voice shook with each word. 
“What happened?” Azriel asked mildly. 
She pinched the bridge of her nose, and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She couldn’t look at them now, and didn't want to. Didn’t want the two of them to see her break down. Instead, she focused on the stars above her as the story spilled out. One of her friends' brothers had cornered her. She was in her early-twenties, and had never been interested in anyone. Not in that way. When the … opportunity came up she went along with it for a minute - even flirted harmlessly with him, but when he pressed and tried to push her for more, tried to get her to kiss him, and when he refused … 
“That’s when,” she waved her hand down her stomach, “that happened. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t,” she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as the story kept spilling out, of how he grabbed her breast, tried to stick his hand between her legs. 
“And he called me a frigid bitch after I kneed him in the balls.” She finished weakly, forcing a laugh. The two of them had gone incredibly still, and she felt the tears drip from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I took care of it.” She insisted. 
The ‘taking care of it’ worked for a day. Until he came back, thinking she was just playing with him - that she liked the ‘playing hard to get.’ The worst was her friend justifying it, when she brought it up to her. 
“Well,” she hesitated, biting on her bottom lip. “You did flirt with him, how’s he supposed to know?” 
“I told him to stop.” Y/n insisted.
“Just try telling him again.” She sighed. “I don’t want to get in a fight with him.” She told him, again, over the next three days. 
“There’s more.” Azriel said. Gods, he always knew - even if she was just omitting something. “All of it. I need to hear all of it.” 
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She yelled, the anger she’d kept a firm lid on spilling out as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to think about it, I want it to be over.” 
Cassian strode towards her, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close to his chest, rubbing her back and holding her through her sobs. Cool shadows swirled around her neck and shoulders, and she recognized Azriel’s way of comforting her. 
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, face still pressed into his chest. 
“None of that,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 
She snorted, pushing back against him. “You’re growing soft.” 
“Just for you,” he grinned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 
Y/n yelped as she was gently tugged away from him, instead bundled into Azriel’s arms, his fingers running through her hair and shadows still curling around her. Probably reporting her expressions even as he couldn’t see her face. “Can you tell me now?” 
She exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t get out of this, so she might as well tell him. “He just didn’t know how to take the hint. He thought I was playing with him.” Azriel tensed underneath her, and she scented the pure rage coming from both of the Illyrians and knew if she didn’t say anything else someone in the Autumn court would find their immortal life cut short. “I told him if he didn’t stop I would stab him.” 
“Good girl.” He murmured, but didn’t release her - instead holding her tight as if she might disappear at any moment. 
“Don’t -,” she took in a breath, “don’t tell anyone else.” She pushed back, tilting her head to see his expression. He looked troubled by it and glancing over to Cassian told her he’s feeling the same way. “Please.” 
They looked at each other, as if they were communicating something silently, and nerves hit her - crawling under her skin and swirling in her stomach. She took another step back, forcing Azriel’s arms to hang back by his sides. 
“We’ll make a deal, with a few conditions.” Cassian said, and strode closer to her, standing next to Azriel to make a wall formed of pure arrogance. She groaned internally. “If you don’t agree. We’ll tell him.” 
She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “What are they?” 
“Firstly, they’re non negotiable.” He waited for her nod before continuing. “You don’t visit them again. If you want to see her, she comes here.” 
“I’d have to go through Rhys for that.” He gave her a look, as if to say - “that’s your problem,” and she rolled her eyes. 
“Second. No more hiding.” 
“I wasn’t -” 
“Yes you were.” Azriel cut in, raising an eyebrow at her glare. “Rhys told us.” 
“He needs to learn to mind his business.” She muttered and Cassian snorted. 
“If he didn’t tell us, we would’ve figured it out. You don’t miss meals.” 
“I could have just wanted to eat in private.” 
“For three days in a row?” He crossed his arms. 
“Mind your damn business.” 
“Enough.” Azriel cut off the quickly budding argument between the two of them. He’s always been the mediator between the two of them - both ‘blessed’ with quick tempers. 
She wheeled on him instead. “And you have to promise not to tell him.” She needed to be very clear on that, otherwise he would take the loophole and exploit it. He looked conflicted, but ended up promising - unless it somehow escalates, but considering she’ll never see him again - she doubts it will.
“Is that everything?” 
“One more. Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.” 
“As long as you don’t tell anyone else without my permission permission.” They exchanged another look, and both nodded. She stared at them for a few seconds. “It’s a bargain.” 
She fought her smile as she was on the receiving end of twin glares. Apparently they hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but now she knew their word was good. 
“Brat.” Cassian muttered, but started searching for the tattoo. 
She shoved up her sleeves. Nothing on her arms. But, felt a tiny prick on chest, and strode towards the mirror, adjusting her shirt to see. Some kind of constellation was etched into her skin, spreading across her collarbones in a pattern she didn’t recognize. Azriel and Cassian had matching ones - it took them a minute to figure it out, especially with their leathers in the way, but small dots were interwoven with the tattoos already lining their chests. 
“It’s … feminine.” Cassian commented. 
“Nothing wrong with that,” she raised a brow at him. 
“Nothing wrong with it.” He quickly agreed. 
“I think they’re pretty,” she teased, poking his chest. 
-
“Did you figure it out?” Rhys asked later as the three of them met in his office. 
Cassian’s hand ran down his face. “We did.” 
“And what is it?” 
“We can’t tell you.” Azriel replied through gritted teeth. 
Rhys paused for a moment, before raising his brows. “You let her trick you into a bargain? I thought you would’ve known better.” Both of them bristled. Ever since y/n figured out what a bargain was, she managed to word things carefully enough they’d get wrapped into them. Rhys still remembers the first time he met her, back when she was a youngling and before they managed to get her out of the Court of Nightmares. 
“Mor said you could fly,” she whispered - low enough nobody else could hear. She looked up and saw the hesitant look on his face. “I can keep a secret.” She grinned. He gave her a quick nod. 
He saw her again, a year later - now seven years old. “Could you take me flying?” He gave a subtle shake of his head, but every time she saw him she would ask, and eventually he caved. 
“I’ll make a deal with you, you stop asking - and I’ll take you flying” 
“It’s a bargain.” She whispered, and Rhys winced as a small band appeared around his upper arm, a matching one on her. That’s not supposed to happen … she shouldn’t be able to make those without both parties expliciting saying it. 
They snuck her out the next day and took her, if only to keep anyone else from noticing the thin tattoo around her upper arm. He still remembered Mor half-heartedly lecturing her about the danger of making bargains - and not to go doing it with strangers. 
Another idea popped into his head. “Did she say you can’t show me?” 
Cassian winced. “I don’t-,” he turned to give Azriel a sharp look, “we don’t want to betray her trust. But it’s taken care of.” 
Rhys nodded. He’d have to wiggle it out of her himself then, even if that’s nearly impossible. Besides, if the two of them break her trust like that, and she finds out … that would be a fight he doesn’t want to be anywhere near. 
-
Mor promised to get her out of Hewn City, whenever she needed to. Y/n was eighteen when she left, when she moved to Velaris, met Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and started making friends in the city. She should’ve known any ‘friends’ she met living there … Y/n cut off that line of thinking, reminding herself it’s not her fault, in any way. But, her mind still swirls with all of the ways she possibly could have prevented it, or the different things she could have done. For gods sake, she’s told others countless times that it’s not their fault, and they’re in no way responsible for others actions, but she still gets caught in that spider web, in the dangerous abyss of her own thoughts caving in on her. 
“Where’d you go?” Rhys interrupts her and she blinks heavily. 
“Here and there.” She mutters, pushing some food around on her plate. 
“Anything you want to talk about?” Him and Mor have stopped questioning her as frequently, but still try to put subtle feelers out to see if she will respond, or open up to them. 
The words blurt out before she can think twice about them. “Can I speak with the priestesses again?” 
His entire body tenses, his shoulders tightening and eyes darkening. She’d just given him a very clear idea of what happened while she was away.
-
The priestesses. He can only think of a few reasons why she’d want to speak with them. It could be related to her past, but more likely to some recent events. Barely, he manages to keep his composure. 
“I’ll ask them.” His voice is short and he watches her worry her bottom lip. 
“Please don’t do-” 
“Anything rash?” He raises a brow, forcing a cool and neutral tone. 
“I took care of it.” She insisted. Similar to what Azriel and Cassian said. 
“Will you ever tell me? Or Mor? She’s worried sick.” Rhys knew it was a low blow, even as he said it. 
“I’m tired of … I’m tired of talking about it.” 
He wondered why she’d want to go to the priestesses, why she’d want to speak with them if she’s already sick of talking. But then again, he’s heard that sometimes they go into their offices just to cry or scream. Either way, he’s not going to deny her the chance, or that request. He knows without a doubt that they’ll agree to see her. They all love her there, and she spends a lot of her time studying in the archives. Technically that’s her official position in his court - to research, her mind is her greatest weapon. 
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” 
“I wanted to make you feel useful.” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to flick her nose. She dodged it, swatting his hand away. “But if you’re going to complain I can ask them myself.’”
“Asking who?” Mor swept into the room, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, before he got caught into anything between the two sisters. 
-
Y/n mouthed ‘traitor’ at Rhys’s retreating figure, when Mor wasn’t looking. 
“I’m going to ask if I can speak with the priestesses again.” 
“Oh.” She paused, before sitting down on the couch next to her, stretching her legs out in front. “Anyone in particular?” 
She exhaled in relief, something Mor noticed but didn’t comment on. 
“Not Merrill.” Y/n muttered, drawing a laugh out of Mor. 
“Merrill has a good heart.” 
“I deal with her enough already.” Y/n groaned, leaning her head back on the cushion. 
“How is that going?” Mor switched subjects, navigating to safer areas. If she pushed too much on this topic … y/n might shut down again. 
“Slowly. Traveling between worlds, Rhys is obsessed with it and translating some of the old texts takes hours.” 
“Is he now?” She turned, interested, and gave her a small smile. 
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” 
“I won’t snitch.” 
“I won’t either.” She snipped back, but a small smile was on her face, and some mirth dancing in her eyes. She could’ve cried from relief - even if she has other things to think about now, about how she has a very clear idea of what happened. Part of her wants to lecture her sister about bargains, again. 
-
Y/n was forced to stop hiding, the tattoo pricking into her skin every time it thought she was being a bit too reclusive. Still, she wondered if it really was a fair bargain - their silence in return for; not visiting her again, not hiding, and telling them if anyone does that again. She supposes that could mean several things, and they never specified a specific timeframe on when she would have to tell them. In her desperation for them to keep her confidence, she’d done something foolish and doubted they would let her out of that anytime soon. If ever. 
The two of them can be just as tricky as she is, and just as likely to find loopholes. At least they wouldn’t use it against her with the intention to cause harm. She’d never make one of those with someone she doesn’t trust. Even if the wording is iron-clad, there’s always room for error. Most of the ‘bargains’ she’s made are always light-hearted. 
Like making Rhys take her to fly, even if it was the shortest gods-damned flight of her life. Two minutes, if that - and under the cover of dark, after him and Mor snuck her out of Hewn City. Her very first taste of freedom. She was always kept away whenever the Inner Circle visited. Still, she managed to sneak away from the guards, learning how to create diversions and somehow give the impression she was still sleeping in her rooms, enchanting her toys to keep moving, or a pen to keep writing, a book to keep flipping its pages. They never caught her either. She wasn’t even born when Mor left. In fact, she wasn’t born until after Rhys took up his throne. Born into a ‘cleaned-out’ Hewn City, and grateful for it - she doesn’t want to know what it was like before. 
Not many children were around, anyway. The friends she did make were the ones her parents encouraged her to, from foreign courts for the most part. People she’s unlikely to ever visit again. Technically, she could leave of her own accord - but that would mean whoever she’s visiting is going to have someone knocking on their door to drag her away. 
A knock sounded on the door as she slumped back against her pillow, and she could sense Azriel was out there. 
“Come in,” she called. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’d enter anyway. 
The door swung open, revealing him leaning against her doorway. “I heard you went to speak with the priestesses.” 
Cutting right to the chase, then. “I speak with them every day. It’s part of my job description.” 
His eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”
She groaned, pushing herself up to sit. “You don’t need to haunt the doorway, you can come in.” 
“Last time I did, I recall a book launched my way.” 
She held up both hands, showing there were no projectiles in reach. He still looked cautious as he entered, and took up a seat in one of the armchairs, right by her favorite window. She swung her legs over so she sat on the edge of her bed, propping her forearms on her thighs. 
-
Azriel couldn’t help as his eyes shifted down ever so slightly to where her nightdress slipped down, showing the tops of the curves of her breasts. His gaze switched back up as quickly as possible, and somehow y/n didn’t catch the action - instead looking out towards the window. Good, the last thing he needs is to start ogling her, to give her the impression he’s coming onto her. There was something else he could do. He’d need to speak with Cassian. 
“I’m proud of you,” he offered instead. Her head snapped, back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and he fought the urge to shift under her gaze. 
“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile. A shadow curled around his ear, happy, happy, happy. It sang. 
“What do they tell you?” She tilted her head, eyeing it. 
“That you’re happy,” he said honestly. 
She blinked twice, lips curving into an easy smile. “I suppose I am,” she finally answered. 
“You should get some sleep.” He’d noticed the bags under her eyes, how she still seemed exhausted and worn down throughout the day. Azriel had told Cassian he needed to stop dragging her outside and beating her into the ground every day. He’s aware healing is different for each person, but it had been a month since she returned, and his worry only grew. 
“That’s rude.” She frowned, but glanced at the mirror across from her bed. Interesting placement. “I do look like shit.” 
He snorted. “You look tired, there’s a difference.” 
“Sleep hasn’t … been easy.” He could tell it cost her something to admit that. Stubborn pride, just like her sister and cousin. And the rest of them, he supposed. 
“Nightmares?” He prompted, and she nodded. He wouldn’t pry further, but made a mental note to send a shadow in later, to keep watch on her. Maybe it was an invasion of her privacy, but he didn’t particularly care. “I’m right down the hall,” he jerked his chin towards the door. 
“I’m aware.” Another shadow curled around his ear, stay, stay, stay. “Is it too nosy if I ask about that one?” She teased. 
“Maybe.” 
She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I suppose it’s your job to keep secrets.” 
“I recall someone making a terrible bargain to keep something secret.” 
Her face dropped, and he got the impression he said the wrong damn thing. “They’ve already figured it out.” She mumbled, eyes avoiding him. He hated that, hated when she wouldn’t look at him. 
“That’s not a terrible thing.” He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck. He’s never been great at comforting, usually Cassian’s the one to do these kinds of things. Still, he found himself walking across the room, taking a seat next to her. On instinct, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. 
She froze, went still for a brief moment, and he was about to move away when she leaned into him, her body relaxing. A few of his shadows swirled around her neck, and she hummed in content. 
Another one curled around his ear, happy, stay. Maybe, for a minute or two. 
-
Cassian went looking for Azriel, he wasn’t in his room - or downstairs or anywhere to be found, and tracked his scent off to y/n’s room, of all places. The door was already parted, and he nudged it open with his foot. Y/n was curled into his side, sound asleep in an awfully uncomfortable position. How tired did she have to be to sleep like that? Almost sitting up. 
Azriel turned his head to look at him, his expression almost saying ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He held a fist up to his face, fighting back a laugh, and ignoring his glare. He stalked over towards the duo, ignoring Az’s glare as he shook y/n’s shoulder. 
“Stop holding him hostage.” He watched as her eyes opened, half lidded with sleep. 
“Sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to hide a yawn. 
Azriel moved his arm away, even if he seemed reluctant to do so, and he pushed back her shoulders so she’d actually lay down. “I don’t want to hear any complaints if your back hurts tomorrow.” 
“Fuck off.” She yanked the blankets back over her, burrowing down into the pillows. It took barely a minute before she was sound asleep again, her breaths evening out, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Peaceful, she looked so peaceful, even with the bags still lining her eyes like horrible bruises. 
Azriel tapped his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring for a while. They quietly left, gently shutting the door closed behind them. 
“You’ve gone soft.” He told the other male after they were out of earshot. 
“I was just … comforting her, and she fell asleep.”
“Must be really tired, then.” 
“She said she’s having nightmares.” 
Mother above, Cassian wanted to storm the autumn court and bring her back that asshole’s head as a gift. In fact, he’d been debating it for the last few days - but, if anything it would distress her further. Y/n’s never been a violent person, in contrast to the rest of the inner circle. A good contrast. She thought he’d been training her more just to keep her from ‘hiding,’ but his mind was swirling with what else could’ve gone wrong, and if she would have been able to defend herself. Or why she threw herself in whole heartedly, pushing herself harder than ever. 
“She’s been more ...” Cassian pressed his lips into a tightline, glancing behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t behind. “Dedicated, training wise.” 
“I know.” Azriel replied quietly. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else they didn’t know.
-
Her tattoo pricked at her as she opened the third letter in the past month. Addressed from her friend, like the last two, but something was different about this one - her name written differently, a small curve to the letters. 
Her eyes scanned the page, picking out the key phrases. 
I miss the fun we had. I know how much you enjoyed yourself. 
You must, should visit at your earliest convenience. 
There was only a general threatening atmosphere to the words - nothing outwardly against her safety. Only him … reminiscing on the past events, in uncomfortable detail. Harmless, she decided, even if her subconscious screamed against her. No pain ripped through her magic, also some guilt crept into her at the feeling - she was hiding it, using a loophole to get out of the agreement, not honoring the spirit of it. 
With a low exhale, she justified it to herself, no need to worry the two of them - they were busy enough as is. Besides, she couldn’t trust them to keep their cool. The guilt would multiply if she knew violence was brought to her friend's doorway. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and crumpled the paper - shoving it in a drawer and reminding herself to burn it later. It was dark, the sun already dipped below the horizon - only vague rays of pink and purple peeking up past the horizon. Her stomach grumbled, loud enough she snorted. That’s a clear signal she needs to grab something to eat. 
She slipped out her door, closing it behind her with a gentle snick. She kept her footsteps as silent as she could as she trailed down the hallway, but she heard … moans - and groans coming from Azriel’s room. Did he have someone over? A small tinge of hurt filled her - not that he was hers, or she had any claim to him. Or Cassian. Why had her mind gone to both of them? “Ridiculous,” she quietly chided herself. She could manage to walk by the room, keep her eyes set right ahead - no need to look at the door or pause, she wouldn’t be nosy. 
Her feet moved quickly, and she spotted the cracked open door in her peripheral, cursing him. Eyes forward, right ahead. No need to look. 
But, she made the mistake of looking at the window, figuring it would be harmless. 
Her mouth parted in shock as she saw Cassian, pressed back against Azriel who had one arm wrapped around his front - palming him through the leather pants. They were both shirtless, muscles toned and gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. Azriel’s other hand was fisted in the General’s hair, their lips crashing together in a violent and passionate kiss. 
She hadn’t realized she was staring, arousal starting to creep into her, until a shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and his head snapped towards her. Cassian quickly followed, and she let out a small yelp - going bug eyed and taking off down the hall. She was not supposed to see that. Not at all … Mother above they need to close the damned door. Arousal flickered through her as she paused at the end of the hall - way out of range, bracing her hand against the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the feeling. She couldn’t want them. They were perfectly unavailable, and together, at least in some sense. 
Did Rhys and Mor know? She wouldn’t be the one to tell them. Her mind flashed with more images;
Azriel panting as Cassian knelt in front of him. Azriel hauling him to his feet - throwing him over the side of the bed … 
“Stop it.” She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and darting her gaze around the hall. No one to witness, good. She couldn’t remember why she left her room, but she wouldn’t be returning for a while. 
-
It shouldn’t have, but getting caught - and by her, and feeling her arousal from the brief moments she watched them … it spurred him on, sent him deeper into that state of building pleasure. 
She didn’t know they already knew she was there. Azriel  wanted to see how long it took for her to say something, or if they’d have to act first.
“We should invite her back.” Cassian said, bruised lips frowning. 
“Do you want to scare her off?” Azriel asked incredulously. They had actual albeit vague plans for this. To  come in stages, how to trigger various emotions in her. 
“No.” He muttered, entwining his hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck.
“Good boy” Azriel teased and his friend grunted, throwing a half-hearted punch his way. Cassian stiffened under his hand. “You like that?” His teeth nipped at his neck as his hand slipped under his waistband. 
“Do we talk to her about it?” Cassian asked, an hour later - hair messed, cheeks flushed, one hand braced on the doorframe. 
Az propped himself up from where he was still laying in bed. “Let her dream about it.” 
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tsunami-of-tears · 21 days
Text
A Fresh Start
Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 1 (Beginnings)
Cazriel x Healer Reader
Summary: Azriel rescues Reader and takes her back to the Night Court.
Pairing Masterlist
Wordcount: 2.4K
Warnings: mentions of violence; kidnapping; injuries.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚:
You first met Azriel while he was spying on the human queens in the mortal realm. 
The queens had captured you from the small village in Spring where you worked as a healer and were now holding you to study your magic - attempting to harness it for themselves. 
Azriel had infiltrated their dungeons and was sneaking through the lower levels when he saw you. You were curled up on the rough stone floor of the cold, dim cell.
Azriel’s shadows whispered that you were covered in injuries - all at various stages of healing where they’d beaten you and taken samples of your blood and tissue. 
When Azriel scented your fae heritage, he knew he couldn’t leave you there. He didn’t care if it ruined his mission. He knew what it felt like to be caged, he couldn’t leave anyone else to that fate. 
Your eyes flutter open as a tall male shrouded in shadows, approaches the iron bars. He speaks to you in a calm and deep voice, “I’m going to get you out of here.”
You nod at the male, too weak to talk.
Azriel’s shadows allow him to slip into your cell easily, and just as easily winnow you away. He scoops you up, your body so frail in his arms, and he allows his shadows to envelop you both. He transports you to the River House where Rhys and Madja are expecting you. 
————
Reader
The cool wisps of darkness wrap around you, soothing your many open wounds as your cell disappears into the black. The shadows disperse and you find yourself in a charming living room. The sun streams in through the open curtains, so bright you have to cover your eyes as they adjust. 
You can’t remember the last time you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin. 
You lower your hands to find two fae standing before you - a tall, handsome male with black hair and an ancient healer with a kind face.
You can feel the healer’s magic pulsing towards you as your legs give out beneath you. You feel strong hands catch you and the world around you fades into nothing. 
————
Azriel 
Madja tuts as she examines the female. “She’s a healer. They’ve been using faebane to slow her abilities. She’s lost so much blood, it looks like they’ve been extracting it - Mother knows what they plan to do with it. Praise the Cauldron that you got her out safely.” 
Azriel looks over the female’s emaciated body, covered in wounds and bruises, and asks Madja, “Is she going to be okay?” 
“Yes, she will be. I just have to flush the last of the faebane out of her system, then her magic will do the rest.”
Azriel nods and looks up at Rhys. “I know I ruined the mission, but if they were using her blood - who knows what their plans are.”
“You disobeyed an order and revealed that their wards can be breached. You know what situation this puts us in,” Rhys sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, this is bad news. Whatever they planned to do - I’m glad you rescued her.”
Azriel pauses, he expected to argue with his High Lord, but he didn’t expect his support. 
“Come to my office and you can give me the full report. Madja will see to the female,” Rhys says, nodding at Madja as he turns and exits the room.
Azriel is torn between not wanting to leave the female on her own, and not wanting to disobey Rhys any further. Azriel doesn’t know her name, but he leaves her in Madja’s capable hands as he follows Rhys down the hall.
————
Reader
You awake to the sound of birds chirping and wind rustling through long grass. You glance around, taking in your surroundings. You recognise this place - it’s the meadow near your village. 
‘How did I get here?’
A spring breeze caresses your senses, filling your nose with the scent of lilacs and fresh grass; the scent of home. 
You walk through the meadow, and the grass withers and dies under each step. The shrill laughter of the human queens rings in your ears. Your heart pounds and adrenaline courses through you as you turn around, frantically searching for your captors. 
With no one in sight, you sprint to the edge of the meadow where the trees will provide you with some cover. 
You lean against a tall oak to catch your breath only to find it’s not real, and you fall to the floor. The illusion shatters and you’re back in your cell in the mortal realm. 
You cry out, rattling the iron bars like a caged beast. You can taste your freedom on the tip of your tongue. 
Feeling hopeless, you curl up against the stone wall, trying to find some warmth in the dark, damp place. 
You see a figure approaching you, A winged male shrouded in shadows, reaching out his hand to you. 
You crawl, trying to take hold of it but he’s too far from your reach. He slips away from you and fades away into the dark.
————
Your eyes open hesitantly and you try to make out where you are. You don’t recognise the room, but it’s not your cell.
You can’t tell if you were still among the living, or if you’d finally succumbed to your injuries and blood loss. Did you dream up the mysterious winged male? Did he save you? Or was he an angel of death sent to accompany you to the next life?
You sit up only for a splitting pain to shoot down the side of your abdomen, and a broken cry tears from your lips.
Pain. You are very much alive. 
Wincing, you peel back the covers to inspect your body. Most of your wounds have healed, leaving only faint yellow-green bruises. Jagged silver scars fleck your skin as far as you can see, all various sizes. Whatever the queens did to you left a mark. Marks that your magic couldn’t heal.
A soft knock at the door grabs your attention. “Come in,” you croak, your voice hoarse with disuse. You look up as a dark stranger slowly opens the door. Your saviour. 
“I heard you were awake,” he says softly.
“How long have I been out?” you ask.
“Two weeks.”
It’s a long time, but you’d been in that cell for months. Two weeks was nothing. 
“Do you have any family we can contact, to let know you’re safe?”
You had no more family, they were all killed during the conflict with Hybern. There was no one to miss you so you simply shook your head at the male.
“Madja, our healer, said they’d used faebane on you to prevent your healing. She’s on her way to check on you now that you’re awake.”
“Thank you,” you say. It’s not enough, but you’re too tired to say anything more.
“I’m Azriel,” He says. “What’s your name?” 
“It’s Y/N.”
Sensing you don’t want to talk, Azriel nods and exits the room as Madja enters with her supplies. 
————
Madja ordered you to remain in bed for another week. She arranged for all your meals and medicines to be delivered to the room with magic. You hadn’t seen another person aside from her and Azriel since you woke, but even with the added comforts - you were feeling as confined by the bedroom as you had your cell. 
By the third day, you’d had enough, so you decided to explore the house. 
You get up, no longer wincing in pain thanks to Madja’s tonics, and make your way across your bedroom to the closet. You didn’t expect there to be clothes for you, but it was worth a look for something other than the silk nightgown you were currently wearing. 
There wasn’t much clothing of use to you. There was a fair amount made from black leather, but nothing that seemed comfortable in your current state. You did find a robe, so you could at least cover up before potentially running into someone else. 
You exit the bedroom and walk down the red stone hallway into a large open dining room. 
Inside, Azriel is sitting at the table having breakfast with another male. They have the same broad leathery wings topped with great talons. This new male has longer hair, pulled back into a small bun on the back of his head. 
Azriel watches you enter the room as if he knew you were coming. “You’re up,” he states bluntly.
“If I have to spend another day in that room, I will lose my mind,” you reply.
“Fair enough,” Azriel shrugs. “ Are you hungry?” 
“Yes, very,” you say. 
In an instant, a late plate appears on the table with a full breakfast. You take a seat next to the other male and start cutting up your food. 
The male turns to you and says, “I’m Cassian by the way, I live here with Azriel. I’m Rhys’s general.” 
You pause before taking a bite to ask, “Who’s Rhys?” 
“You may not remember, but he greeted us when we got back here from the mortal lands,” Azriel explains. “He’s the High Lord of the Night Court.”
You look back and forth between Azriel and Cassian with wide eyes as the realisation of who they are dawns on you. 
“You are… This is… Oh gods,” you exclaim. 
Living in the Spring Court, you’ve heard the stories about the Lord of Night and his inner circle - none of them good. But, they certainly didn’t match the males sitting before you. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud gurgling of your stomach growing impatient for food. 
“Eat,” Cassian says, a concerned look on his face, “You must be starving.”
“You don’t have to be worried, you’re a guest here,” Azriel chimes in.
You nod and tuck into your food. 
When the first bite hits your tongue you moan softly. After being fed mortal food for months, even the bland food Madja was giving you had been an improvement. But this? All etiquette was forgotten as you shovelled more and more food down. 
Your magic was using a lot of energy to heal all your injuries, so you easily polished off the large plate. You noticed Cassian staring at you with a slight smirk on his face. “Something wrong?” you question. 
Cassian laughs and shakes his head, “No, I just haven’t seen a female eat like that before.” 
Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. 
“Oh no, I’m impressed,” Cassian reassures you with a wink. 
You roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing. ‘Typical male.’
“If you’re feeling up to it, Y/N, Rhys would like to speak to you,” Azriel states.
You look down at your attire and grimace. “May I have something else to wear?” 
“Angel, I think you look great in that,” Cassian says, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him, “But we can find something else.”
————
After some searching, Azriel found a simple day dress in one of the other rooms. There was a slit on the side that showed more skin than you preferred, and the colour was not one you’d ever worn - a deep navy like the night sky.
It was still an improvement to the nightgown, so you changed and freshened up before returning to the dining room to meet Azriel and Cassian. 
Cassian gave you a wolfish grin and asked, “Y/N, have you ever flown before?”
————
You were sure your screams could be heard all over Prythian as you soared through the sky in Azriel’s arms. You kept yourself tucked in close to his chest, so close you could feel the vibrations of his laugh when you screamed.
He touched down on the ground very smoothly and gently placed you on your feet. He held your hands for a moment to steady you.
Cassian landed beside you, a wide smile on his face. “Seeing someone fly for the first time will never get old,” he laughs.
You turn to follow the two males towards the manor when Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, appears in the doorway.
“I could hear screaming from the other side of Velaris,” Rhys laughs. “Nice to see you up and about, Y/N, please come inside.”
Once in his office, Rhys sits behind the large mahogany desk. You sit in the chair across from him while Cassian and Azriel stand behind you.  
“Welcome to the Night Court, I must say it suits you,” Rhys says, flashing a feline grin. “I was hoping you could shed some light on what happened in the mortal realm. Any information you can provide will help us in stopping the queens. I’m a daemati, so with your permission, may I look inside your mind?”
You pause, wondering why he bothered to ask. ‘At least he’s polite about it.’ You nod and take a deep breath before allowing the High Lord into your mind. 
You feel him sifting through your memories. Of years spent working in a village on the border of the Spring Court and the mortal lands, helping with war efforts. Of you being captured and the queens ordering experiments to be performed on you. From what you overheard in the dungeons, they were trying to figure out a way to use the magic to become immortal.
“Thank you, Y/N. This information will be very helpful. I also have a proposition for you. You can say no, but I believe your powers would be invaluable to my court. I’d like to offer you a permanent role here as a healer.”
“Thank you, my Lord, it’s an honour but I will have to think about it.”
“Please, call me Rhys. And of course. We can discuss the details once you’ve fully recovered. If you’re up to it, Azriel and Cassian can show you the city this afternoon.”
“I’d like that a lot, Rhys, Thank you.” You nod farewell to the High Lord, standing to face Azriel and Cassian. You give them a broad smile, “Shall we go?”
The three of you exit the manor and enter the streets of Velaris. Despite your injuries, you have a skip in your step as you walk along the winding paths. You feel oddly at ease with the two males and you can’t contain your excitement over your newfound freedom, over your fresh start. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *
Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael
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polyacotarweek · 17 days
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Day 1 Masterlist: Beginnings
Fanfic
"How I Met Your Fathers" by @acourtofladydeath (Feytamsand)
"Serve + Protect" by @starfall-spirit (Feyssian)
"Embers In The Wind, Ch 1" by @chunkypossum (Nerissian)
"this is me trying, Ch 1-3" by @witch-and-her-witcher (Nessriel)
"I Could Be a Better Boyfriend Than Him" by headcanonheadcase (Valkyries)
"Together" by @littlestw01f (OC X Rhys X Eris)
"Then There Were Three" by @nocasdatsgay (Reader X Azris)
"A Fresh Start" by @tsunami-of-tears (Reader X Cazriel)
"Together for the First Time" by @danikamariewrites (Reader X Feysand)
"Pretty Flower Garden" by @tadpolesonalgae (Reader X Mor X Elain)
"The Story of Us" by @readychilledwine (Reader X Nesta X Cassian X Azriel)
Fanart & Miscellaneous
"Emotional Support Lucien" by @copypastus (Lufeylin/Feytamcien)
AU Snippet by @lorcandidlucienwill (Feytamsand)
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illyrian-dreamer · 10 months
Text
Our girl – Part 2
Azriel x Cassian x Reader angst
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.
Word count: 6k
Warnings: Reader unwell/not eating, depression and lots of angst.
Keep reading ⬇️
--------
You slept through any offerings of daylight the next day.
The bustle of the infirmary was a hum to your ears, your exhaustion keeping the world a distance away. Even the healers couldn't stir you when the frequented your room, changing your dressings and checking your pulse.
You woke for a meal of simple broth in the evening, and were glad to have kept it down. You still fought feverish sweats and chills, and the ache in your stomach and chest was persistent. Madja would oversee your care as she had the evening before. She had given one instruction – the more rest, the better.
Night set on the ward again, and you were glad to be enveloped by dim lighting and quieter activity.
Unsure of when sleep had found you, you awoke in an open field. It was bright, the high-pointed sun drenching the landscape in gold, the lake in the distance sparkling and inviting. Familiarity warmed you more than the sun, yet the scene around you remained hazy.
Ears pricking at a ripple of laughter ahead of you, your heart fluttered with excitement. It was instinct to chase that voice, your bare feet pushing from the warmed grass beneath them as you broke into a run. Your skirts kicked beneath you before you hiked them above your knees, both your speed and smile growing.
Ahead was the source of the laughter, a child who also ran, her long locks bouncing with a distinct curl. Meryl. She was no more than 10 years of age, her childish laugh echoing in your ears as your heart pulled at the sight of her.
“Meryl!” you called, continuing the chase, your heels pounding to the ground as you tried to speed up. “Slow down!” You heard your own voice then, also of a child.
The setting around you flooded with detail as a lost memory found you. Your visit to your parent’s good friend in Spring Court, an Uncle of sorts, his charming lake-side cottage where you and your sister would spend hours swimming and playing – and chasing! Of course! Each day you raced to see who would reach the lake first, and Meryl had always been that little bit faster.
Meryl responded with another laugh, so innocent and carefree, as a child should be. You reached a hand out, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch up. You ached for one more chance to speak with her or to hold her, or even to see her face. But she bounded onwards without ever turning her head.
A harsh breeze blew from behind, and the golden glow of the once-memory quickly turned grey and harsh as a storm threatened the sky. The water of the lake was now violent, thrashing with unforgiving waves. You halted your run, yet Meryl bound forward, her laughter drowned by the roar of the wind.
“Meryl!” you called again, your voice now of your adult self, urgent and panicked. As you tried to resume running, you almost toppled over, your hands catching you before you could fall. Something had anchored your bare feet to the ground.
With a yell of frustration, you tried to pry your legs free. Up ahead, your sister’s figure grew smaller, her direction set for the dangerous waters.
“Please! Meryl stop!” Tears began to well in your eyes as you fought to free yourself. You saw them then, the swirls of shadows that kept your legs pinned and unmoving.
“Wha-? Get off me!” You frantically clawed at them, but instead they climbed your arms too, forcing you to the ground.
Hands were on you then, tugging at your clothes and pulling at your limbs. Shadows mixed with siphons blue and red, and swirls of night clouded your vision, between it peeks of Meryl slipping further and further away. You clutched at the roots of the grass, desperate to pull yourself free.
“Stop! I have to save her!” you begged, your voice breaking with despair. But those hands were unrelenting, so strong in their grip as you tried to summon your power. That too rendered useless, cracking to a quick fizzle without so much as a sting.
Before you could call one final plea to your sister, shadows and hands and magic smothered your mouth, drowning your cry in their hold. All you could do was watch in horror as Meryl dived beneath the thrashing waves before your vision was overcome with smoke and night, and finally black.
————
Azriel and Cassian watched as you writhed in your cot, the feverish sweat on your brow glowing in the soft fae light of the infirmary wing.
“What’s wrong with her?” Cassian whispered, his face etched with concern as he stepped closer to you. He gingerly bought a callused hand to your cheek, running one gentle stroke down the length of it.
Azriel’s frown deepened as he heard your sister’s name muttered on your lips, followed by a whimper and ragged breaths. “It’s a fever dream.” he answered, his arms folded as he kept to the edge of your cot.
Cassian looked down at you, noting the tears that stained your cheeks.“We shouldn't have come here,” he said, his jaw tight from guilt. “She’s still unwell, we should let her rest.”
He and Azriel had easily snuck into the ward, winnowing straight past the few healers on night shift, and even slipping past Madja who was buried in paperwork at the desk near the entrance of the infirmary. But now Cassian eyed the door, just as eager to leave.
Azriel was only half listening to his brother as he commanded his shadows. They climbed at the base of your cot, swirling inwards as they found their way to your face and limbs, cooling you as you continued to stir, now a little more gently. Azriel did not show his satisfaction as he watched you sigh, finding some comfort in their touch.
The sound of a curtain being harshly drawn caused the males to jump, revealing an incredibly unimpressed Madja. Azriel cursed himself silently, having used all of his shadows to soothe you without setting guard to the room.
“I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses,” she said coldly to the males, pushing past them and setting a pale next to your bed. She shooed Azriel’s shadows as if they were a mutt on the street, and they quickly scattered back to their master.
“How is she doing?” Cassian asked, eyes pleading.
“I will not disclose that to you,” the healer answered tightly. Wringing the towel within the pale, Madja wiped the sweat from your brow. Your stirring had stopped at least, and you seemed to have found a deeper slumber than before. Madja sighed now, before casting a half look to the boys. “She’s improving, but is still quite weak.”
The males nodded, your sickly skin, limp body and slick hair as evident as the healer’s prognosis.
“Do I need to have words with the High Lord and Lady of their emissaries overstepping my regulations?” Madja asked without looking their way, wringing the cloth yet again before pressing it to your neck and bust. “Not to mention violating patient privacy,” she added.
Cassian hung his head low. “I’m sorry. I don't know what we were thinking.” Azriel refused to look at the healer, his eyes never leaving you.
Madja continued to care for you in silence, allowing Cassian and Azriel to grovel for a few more moments. Picking up the pale, she made to leave your bedside before answering the males. “I have worked with enough Illyrian’s to know of your possessive nature. But I won't be so forgiving if she wakes to find you here. Already your scents have caused more harm than good. She must not know you came, it will only upset her and might unravel her progress.”
“She’s that upset with us?” Azriel asked, his gaze beyond the healer before him, still fixed on you.
“Yes,” she answered plainly. Neither of the males knew what to say. “Now leave, before I regret showing any patience for boyish brutish idiocy.”
Azriel took the risk of another tongue lashing to send a final shadow to caress your cheek, before clasping his brother’s arm and winnowing back to the House of Wind.
————
You were kept at the infirmary for another four nights without any further disturbance from your family. They asked to visit, of course, practically begging through letters and pleas to Madja. But each of their requests were left unanswered, and you too buried your need to have them by your side while you healed.
It gave you time to think of a plan – you could not stay at the infirmary forever. When you had first moved the Velaris, while training as a spy, you lived in a small apartment in the cliffs that faced the Sidra. You hadn't visited there in almost a decade, but your once-home was written to your name, and vacant.
Madja insisted on settling you in, helping you climb the stairs to your room as fatigue still lingered.
Prying the stiff wooden door open, you almost smiled at the sight of your old home. A mattress lay on the floor in the corner of the room just as you had left it – you had never been able to afford a frame on training wages. A small chest of drawers was pushed up against the wall, and the kitchenette was lined with those charming blue tiles just as you remembered.
You were thankful Madja had sent a maid ahead of time, and while the musk of an unused apartment lingered, you were glad to not have to dust in your current state. The small fireplace contained fresh logs of wood which meant there was no urgent trip to the markets either.
“This is it,” you spoke more to yourself as you ran a hand along the kitchenette before making your way over to the chest, prying a stiff drawer open.
Madja was less than impressed. “Child, perhaps you would consider more comfortable accommodation? One where the bed is not on the floor?”
“I’ll be fine here,” you answered, distracted as you searched through your old drawers, finding them empty.
“The High Lord and Lady have offered to accommodate you elsewhere–”
“I don't want their help,” you snapped, shoving the drawer back into the chest with notable anger.
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “You don't need to suffer at the cost of their mistakes, Y/N.”
You sighed then, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I won't accept their fortune any longer. This home is mine, I worked hard for it. I will be perfectly fine here while I figure out a plan.”
Madja nodded, scanning the room once over. “Do not forget to take your medicine,” she lectured before turning to the door, knowing better than to linger. There was no remedy for how quiet the apartment fell when she left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Mustering the little energy you had, you set your kettle to boil, waiting patiently for the steam to whistle from the tin, the only sound to fill the apartment beyond the distant hum of the town below.
After a few sips of tea, exhaustion found you again. Setting the mug of tea aside on the cold wooden floor, you crawled into bed, pulling the too-thin covers over your head and leaving your drink unfinished. With your back to the world that beckoned outside, you faced the wall instead, tracing a crack that ran across its length.
How motivated you had felt when you first moved here. At the time, you were grieving Meryl of course, but you had a plan – a one way ticket to ensure a balance in the world, to fight for some sense of justice. Never had you thought it could fail so miserably.
So you traced that crack with a weak finger, remembering your sister, mourning her with a fresh wave of pain.
Grief continued to weigh heavy on your chest the following few days. You had intentions on visiting the market, buying some food and sustaining yourself while you made a new plan. But instead you felt anchored to your mattress, the idea of cooking and bathing and facing the outside world completely overwhelming. Instead, cups of tea brewed only to be left untouched, yours eyes heavy as you watched the steam rising from the mug swirl and dance, and by the time it finally cooled you were already asleep.
And the cycle continued. In the moments you had the strength, you wept. And in the moments you didn’t, you slept.
It was after five days that Madja visited to replenish your medicine. The healer opened the door to your apartment when her knocks went unanswered, casting the first bit of natural light in the room in days. With your back facing outwards, you didn’t stir as she walked over and immediately collecting the assortment of mugs on the floor.
“Have you left this room at all?”
You offered a small shake of your head, unable to lift it from your pillow, your eyes red and stiff with dried tears.
“Have you eaten?”
Your stillness was her answer. Madja sighed. “Well we simply can't have that. I understand a loss for appetite, so I will bring some additional brews to keep you sustained.”
“I don't want them.” It took all your strength to turn over your shoulder and look at the healer, your voice hoarse having gone days without speaking.
She simply shook her head as she looked down at you. You do not have a choice, her expression read.
“Might you try to get some fresh air? Or bathe? I can assist with both if you–“
But you were already turning your shoulder to the wall, immediately exhausted at the thought of leaving your bed. “I’ll do it tomorrow Madja,” you sighed. “I’m too tired in this moment.” You didn't have the energy to wonder if she bought your lie or not.
The healer said nothing as she closed the door quietly behind her.
————
“I’m concerned for her wellbeing.” Madja sat opposite the High Lord and Lady in their study, a large willow desk between them. Rhys sat with his hands laced together tightly, a deep frown etched on his face. Feyre beside him held a sleeping Nyx, doing her best to not stir the babe while she exchanged looks of deep concern.
“She isn't eating. She barely drinks a thing, and has failed to take much of her medicine. If she continues at this rate, she will fall much more ill.”
“What can we do?” Feyre asked gently, stroking Nyx’s hair while he snoozed at her chest.
“I don’t suggests interfering at this stage. I am only here to warn you of my concerns.”
“And what happens if she worsens?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes holding the stare of the healer in front of him.
“I will call for you then. I hate to suggest the use of your daemati abilities, but if it comes down to life or death…” Madja trailed off, her hands clamping even tighter in her lap.
“We understand,” Rhys responded with a single nod, casting a knowing look to his mate. “Thank you for coming here, Madja.”
The healer stood to leave. “Do not thank me. Again, I am clear to not involve myself in what has occurred between you and Y/N. I am here purely as her healer.”
The High Lord and Lady stood too, seeing her to the door.
“Please keep us informed, and if there is anything that we can provide,” Feyre added quickly, almost desperate to convey her care.
Madja responded with a tight nod, turning to leave. And had she left only moments earlier, she would have found two Illyrians by the door, overhearing the entire conversation. But they were already on their way.
————
Lost again in deep sleep, you didn't stir as the Shadowsinger and General entered your apartment, Azriel’s shadow’s having easily pried the lock open.
The sight of your trembling figure curled up on the mattress pulled at both their hearts, your hands fisted at the covers with deep yet disturbed sleep.
Azriel stealthily made his way across to the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the room. With no dining table or chair in sight, Cassian set the meal they had bought in the small kitchen before quietly approaching you. He knelt down on two strong knees, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before gently shaking you.
“Y/N, wake up doll, it’s us,” he spoke with a hushed voice.
Stirring slightly, you were slow to wake, blinking through the darkness as you were sure you were still dreaming. But as your eyes cleared, the large figure in front of you revealed itself – wings tucked in, hair pulled back in a signature bun, leather strapped up to his knuckles. Cassian was the definition of strength met with comfort, and it took you a few moments to come to your senses.
Your body froze before you sat up quickly, shoving his hands off of you. “Wh-wh?” you stuttered, your eyes dancing between his.
Cassian raised his palms in surrender. “It’s alright, don't panic. We’re just here to help you with a few things.”
Your found your voice then, deep from within your chest, hoarse and broken from days of crying. “Get out,” you spat.
Azriel appeared from the bathroom, watching from the doorway. You flashed your eyes to his, rage quickly filling your veins. How dare they intrude.
“We just want to make sure you’re all right sweetheart, and then we’ll go,” Cassian reasoned. He stood now, offering you his hand.
Days without eating meant the hurry you stood in caused your head to spin, black dots now dancing in your vision. But you held your ground, your voice even icier than before. “I said get out.”
“C’mon doll, let us help you for five minutes.”
“You’re idea of help undid everything I ever worked for.” You shoved at his chest, and he let you push him a few steps back, your hands trembling as you pulled them back.
“Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Azriel’s voice was gentle too, your vision reeling as you whipped your head to glare in his direction. Shaking your head, you curled your hands to fists. It was none of their business.
“Please, sweetheart,” Cassian reached for you then, which earned another shove from you.
“No Cassian! No! Do you understand you have done? Did you even consider what would happen when you decided I wasn't good enough?”
“It wasn’t like that Y/N. We had to keep you safe.” Azriel stayed by the bathroom door, his arms now crossed as shadows slowly seeped on the wooden floor towards you.
Days of isolation and exhaustion had tears pricking at your eyes already. “You are cowards. And I want nothing to do with either of you.”
“Please Y/N–,” Cassian tried one more time.
“Get out of my life.” You had never uttered words so cold. You shoved the General again, but this time he stayed put. Your gritted your teeth, seething at him. “You broke me!”
Cassian looked down at you, his brow pulling in sorrow.
“You shattered my world.” Another unsuccessful push, and you were crying. “Now I have nothing, I am nothing.”
Both of them watched you as your face crumpled, your anger rising as you punched at Cassian’s chest, too weak to cause any harm. “I hate you!”
Cassian’s eyes welled as he stood still, taking the beating without so much as a flinch. “We’re so sorry,” he whispered.
You shook your head, ignoring his apology as you began pounding against him with weak fists. “I hate you both!”
Tears now rolled down the General’s cheek as he let you continue your assault. “We’re so so sorry Y/N.”
You kept shaking your head as Cassian caught both of your wrists, holding them as he took to one knee in front of you.
“We love you,” Cassian cried, prying your fist open and kissing your palm, kissing up your arm, his thumb stroking your hand in the way he knew soothed you. “Please forgive us.”
You broke at his plea. He was a good male, they both were. But they had turned your heart to stone, turned you to someone so damaged, so unrelenting and unforgiving, someone you never wanted to be. You were a monster of their own making, and there was no undoing it. Sobs racked through your body, and it took everything you had not to crumble to the ground.
Azriel was behind you then, his shadows curling around your exposed skin, soothing you where they could. You did not fight him, not as he took your hands from Cassian, not as he too kissed your tears away while murmuring his own apologies, not even when he lifted you from under your knees, carrying you to the bathroom. You hated him, your mind screaming at you to yell and hiss and spit, to swear him from your home and from your life. But in this moment, where exhaustion and isolation loomed, you had no more fight to give.
Azriel didn’t speak as he undressed you before placing you in the tub. You were still crying as he washed you, scarred hands so attentive to your body, the sound of water sloshing and pouring over your head mixing with your laboured breaths. You kept your knees to your chest, your head turned away, but you let him scrub you clean.
He gently pulled you from the tub into a fresh towel, wrapping you in the soft cotton before lifting you again. Your apartment had come to life with a small fire Cassian had lit, low flames flickering with warmth.
Azriel moved to sit on the bed, keeping you bundled in his lap. Cassian was crouched in front of you, his hands holding a vial of stew, the steaming contents bought to your mouth on a spoon.
“Eat this,” Cassian said gently. You wanted to be stubborn, to fight them more than the pathetic amount you already had. But your stomach cramped with hunger at the scent of the stew, and you were to weak to refuse it. So you let Cassian feed you, your body growing more and more slack the fuller your stomach became. A vial of medicine was quickly tipped against your lips too, and you swallowed its contents with a small whimper.
In your exhausted haze, your hardly noticed Azriel dress you in fresh clothes, even braiding your hair before he lay you down, pulling the covers over your.
Cassian and Azriel were watching you as you fought your sleep, heavy eyes lifting to find them.
“I meant what I said.” Your voice was a mere whisper
They exchanged a look, before Cassian crouched to pull the covers closer to your chin. “We know.”
There was a beat of silence. “I want you to leave me be.”
“Not until you start taking care of yourself,” Azriel spoke, his voice soft yet strict. You didn't have any energy to fight back, to tell him he could blame himself for the spiral you had entered.
“Go,” your rasped before turning your back to them, enticed by the comfort of sleep with a full belly, clean clothes and warm apartment.
“Rest up Y/N.” Cassian’s words were a lullaby you couldn’t fight.
“We love you,” Azriel added, and the last thing you felt was the caress of cool shadows at your neck before you drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
————
Waking to sunlight, you felt notably stronger than you had in days. You knew it was because of the care Azriel and Cassian had provided, which frustrated you to your core.
Azriel’s words rung clear in your mind. They would not leave you be until you started to take care of yourself, so you would leverage the strength you had to come up with a plan.
It only took a few days for your Uncle to reply. Yes, he still had his home by the lake. Yes, you could stay with him as long as you needed. There was work to be done in Spring Court, rehabilitation and building after Hybern had depleted almost every resource from the lands, Tamlin not yet strong enough to recoup his court after the war. You could find sanction there, help others and distract yourself with work. And most importantly, distance yourself from the people you once loved.
With your next steps laid clear, you sent a letter to the River House, asking for one final favour.
————
Rhysand was waiting at the River House terrace alone as promised. Cloaked in signature black, he watched the stars dance in the night sky with a gentle grip on the railing, his back to you as you approached.
This was the same terrace that had hosted many evening drinks, jokes and conversations shared with your family, and even offered the much needed escape away from the buzz of various balls and celebrations. A twinge of pain stabbed at your heart at those memories. Today, it was just a terrace, a mere meeting point before you stepped towards your new life.
It was unsurprising Rhys had heeded your instruction to meet you alone, you knew he would do it. You wondered if he lied about his whereabouts, or if he instead warded your presence from the others. He had likely hidden your scent from Cassian and Azriel, but what about his mate?
Saying goodbye to Feyre and Rhys at the same time had felt far too painful, impossible even. While they were equals, High Lord and Lady as well as mates, they were still very different beings. Feyre was too forgiving, too caring and loving to have reached this point on her own. It needed to be Rhys, you needed to direct this at someone who could take it, someone who deserved it.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, turning now, hands sliding to his pockets. You ignored his question, stopping a few paces away. Tension hung heavy between you.
“Thank you for meeting me,” you said tightly. Rhysand didn't speak, but offered an arm to the seating behind you. You sat down silently, your last act of obedience.
“I can no longer serve the Night Court,” you said plainly.
Rhysand didn’t flinch, wise enough to have known this was coming. “That does not mean you don't have a home here,” he answered calmly, as if that logic was reason enough to stay.
You shook your head stubbornly. “Please accept my resignation.”
Rhysand sighed then, leaning forward on his elbows to level a look at you. “I’m aware, Y/N, and I accept. This formality isn’t necessary.”
You knew that, it wasn't why you were here. Rhysand waited patiently for you to continue.
“I need a favour.”
“Anything,” he responded almost instantly.
“I need you to let me leave.”
Rhysand sat back now, a small frown pulling at his brow. “The choice has always been yours.”
Shaking your head, you looked up at the High Lord. “I don't trust that wherever I go, I won't be followed.”
Rhysand raised his brows.
“After recent events, I know Azriel and Cassian won't allow me that freedom.”
Rhysand let out a quick breath before nodding once, violet eyes finding the nights horizon. “I’ll ask them to adhere to your wishes.”
“As if that is enough,” you bit back, ice laced in your tone. “Pull rank, use your power, lie or cheat or trick, I don't really care. Just make it happen, it’s the least I deserve.”
Rhysand breathed quietly as he studied you. “Consider it done,” he said finally.
Gratefulness was an instinct, but you stubbornly bit down your thanks. Instead, a moment of silence fell between you.
“Where are you going?” Rhys pried.
“Do not ask me that.”
“I care for your safety.”
“I don’t want your care.”
Rhysand audibly sighed then, one hand reaching at the distance between you, finding place on the chase. “Tell me, Y/N. Say it out loud.”
You flashed your eyes to him. He looked back at you, his expression worried, concerned, pitying. Gods you hated that look.
“There is no point,” you said coldly, struggling to hide the grit of your teeth.
“I can take it,” he said softly.
Rage coursed through you at an uncontrollable speed. “You think I'm sparing you?” You let out a cold laugh, moments away from that savage, lethal switch, your power now stinging at your fingertips.
“I think you’re far from having faced the truth.”
A snarled escaped you, and you could feel your power surge, igniting your irises with a brilliant yellow. Had you not been so blind with anger, you might have realised this was exactly what Rhysand intended.
“It’s the truth you seek then?” you began. “How about the fact that you have plagued my heart with more hate than I ever believed possible. Shall I tell you of the shame that haunts me day and night that I let myself trust you for all these years? Or that I was naive enough to think I could find another family after Meryl’s death? But it would seem the only family I have is dead, and it has in fact always been that way. You broke me Rhys, you all broke me. I was a fool to have loved you so dearly, and ignorant to believe you ever loved me in the same way.”
Hot, angry tears streamed down your face, washing away the current that glowed in your eyes. Pressing a hand against your heart, you tried to smother the ache that throbbed at your confession. “You preach of a better court, one of choice and freedom and honour. But you snatched that away the moment it was mine for the taking.”
Rhys had kept his eyes on you, his face breaking with a little more sorrow at each sentence you spoke. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re absolutely right.” He waited a moment before placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Mother above cannot convey how sorry I am Y/N.”
You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. It wasn't enough, you knew that, and Rhys knew it too.
His voice was even more gentle as he leaned forward. “I love you Y/N. Well all love you.”
Your voice was small now. “Not in the way I loved you. Not in the way family should love one another.”
“I disagree,” he countered. “You have to understand, as your High Lord, I would never send you to your death knowingly.”
“I wouldn't have died in vain,” you quietly, breaking his gaze with a flicker of shame. “All I ever wanted was a chance to make things right.”
You shocked yourself with the weight of your words, the extent of your willingness to avenge Meryl was something you hadn't even admitted to yourself. You would have died with content knowing you had at least tried to kill Alvar. But Rhys had seen that in you, well before you understood it for yourself. And together your family decided instead to keep you safe.
“I was hoping your motivation no longer overthrew your will to live,” Rhys admitted. With a deep sigh he cupped your chin in a parent-like way. “Look at me.” Whether you liked it or not, your eyes found his.
“Imagine I had taken the time to let you kill Alvar and instead he escaped, and innocent Velarians were hurt because of it – would you forgive me for putting your needs above their safety?”
Your eyes welled. “How could you ask me that Rhys?”
“I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just trying to show you the weight of the decision I had to make.” He offered you a broken smile, reaching to swipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. To your own surprise, you let him.
“That is not the only issue here.” Your voice was thick, your throat strained as you contained the sob that jerked within. “You’ve asked me to see it from your perspective, now please consider mine. You collectively decided that the mission would be kept a secret. You banded together to act dishonestly, knowing it would ruin me. How can I ever trust you again? How am I supposed to see you as my family?”
Rhys closed his eyes as his brows gave a painful tug, a deep breath pushing out through his nose. A large hand rested gently on your knee, his thumb swiping in a sympathetic way.
“I’ll admit Y/N – I knew that this would hurt you, but I never thought we’d lose you entirely.”
You sniffed. “Then you underestimated me.”
Rhys’s violet eyes found yours, sincerity and admiration shining in the stars that beheld them. “I did. I absolutely did.” He took another deep breath before speaking. “I’m a fool to have underestimated your loyalty, your dedication and your bravery. Over 500 years in existence, and I should have known that was never mine to control.”
You stared back at him, and while the ache in your heart was far from cured, a small sense of calm washed over you. It was relief you desperately needed – to finally be understood. “Thank you for saying that,” you croaked.
Rhys watched you with a pained smile. “I only want good things for you Y/N, wherever you choose to be. You will always have a home here if you want it, if you can ever forgive us for what we did.”
And in those words, a new well opened in your heart, one that you had not seen coming.
Hearing Rhys acknowledge your decision to leave the Night Court was devastating, so much so that your hand instinctively pressed agains your heart again. There would be no more fighting or pleading, no more fists thrown or cries of rage and confessions of love. He would let you go, because you had asked it. It was the least you deserved, yet it hurt in an entirely new way.
Ahead of you, the path of solitude lay clear. You had fought for it without any idea how painful it would be to take that first step. You couldn't help the sob that escaped you as you dropped your head to your hands.
“I never wanted to leave,” you admitted through ragged breaths.
Rhys bought a gentle hand to your back. “Then stay.”
“I can’t! I can’t stay here. I am so angry with you, all of you! And I don't think I’ll ever be strong enough to forgive this, not fully.” Your cries were uncontrollable as you tried to quiet them with your hands.
Rhys was stroking your hair as he said ever so softly. “I know.”
You sniffed, blinking up at your High Lord. “There’s nothing left for me here.” There was a cold bite to your words, even as you let him comfort you.
“I know,” he repeated with that same softness and understanding.
You watched him for a moment longer. Here he was, everything you needed in a High Lord – a leader and a friend, saying all the right things in all the right ways. But he was flawed, like anyone, and that flaw had been your downfall.
“I will be leaving Velaris tonight. Please, don't ask for my whereabouts. I need… I need a clean break.”
Rhys brow twitched before he nodded tightly. “You have my word.”
Gathering yourself, you stood to smooth your skirts before looking up at your High Lord for the final time. “I will miss Nyx dearly.”
Pain sliced across Rhysand’s face in a way you had never seen, tears immediately pricking at his violet eyes. He swallowed, containing himself still. “I wish it could have been any other way Y/N, truly.”
“As do I.”
And that was all that could be said. You turned from him, pacing towards the exit while casting your eyes to the magnificent array of stars, searing the Velarian night sky to memory as you admired its beauty for the final time.
“You must know!” Rhys spoke out, a hint of urgency in his tone. “It was fear Y/N. It was fear of losing you, not ever a lack of love.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you nodded once, a broken smile on your lips. “I know,” you spoke, biting back the quiver in your lip. “I know that now.”
And you let those words be your last at the Court of Night.
--------
Part 3>>>>
AN: Thank you so much for your patience with this, I hope you guys like it! ❤️
YES there will be a Part 3. Update: Part 3 is out. I’m super keen to explore how things go for the Reader in Spring Court, and maybe even weave in a little bit of redemption for a certain blondey?? Besides, there are still some things that have gone unsaid between the Reader and the boys... and she needs to figure out these powers! Watch this space 👀
Comment to my tag list (either general or for Our girl) 😊
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shadowdaddies · 5 months
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Love your writing! Could I request a fic where Cassian and reader are mates and Cassian notices Azriel acting a little strange and flat out asks him if he’s attracted to his mate and instead of getting all possessive when he says he is, he’s slightly interested and he tells reader and she’s like 👀 anyway, it leads to smut.
thank you!💜 um wow this got really filthy but can you blame me. I need holy water
This is a follow-up to Listening In, which can be read here: Part 1 | Part 2
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Cassian x Azriel x Reader smut
Warnings: smut filthy smut below the cut, mmf threesome, DP, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, anal sex, light bondage, shadow play, gagging-ish?, overstimulation, minors dni or istg, not proofread
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Your practice sword clashed with Emerie’s, and you dug your heels into the ground as you struggled to maintain your focus. She smirked, knowing exactly why you were distracted during training. You could sense the two Illyrian males watching you - your mate and the shadowsinger monitoring your every move - presumably to provide critique later. Still, having their eyes on you sent a thrill down your spine, distracting you long enough for Emerie to sweep your leg, landing you flat on your back with her wooden sword at your throat. 
With a smirk, you held your hands in a gesture of surrender. “I yield.” Emerie smiled down at you, grabbing your hand to help you stand up - holding you close as she whispered in your ear, “those males are not watching you as your trainers right now. You might need to help out with the release they clearly need.” She snickered at your shocked expression. “You mean Cassian. My mate is watching me-“ She cut you off before you could continue, waving a dismissive hand as she turned to go get water, looking over her shoulder with a wink. “Sure, just Cassian.”
Befuddled, you looked over to where Cassian stood with Azriel, but your mate’s focus wasn’t on you. His eyes were on the shadowsinger, who was watching you with a heat in his gaze that made you blush before you both quickly looked away. 
You gave Cassian a quick kiss after training ended, and headed up to your room to clean up and change - missing the conversation that happened between the brothers who stayed behind at the training ring. Wiping the sweat from his brow with a rag, Cassian turned to Azriel with a smug look on his face. “You know, Az, for as long as you’ve been a spymaster, I’d think you would be more subtle with how you stare at my wife.” 
Azriel’s face flushed profusely, the Illyrian sputtering unintelligible excuses, “Cass, I was just watching her form-“ Cassian cut him off with a hand to his shoulder. With a dark chuckle, he eyed the shadowsinger up and down, a satisfied smile taking over his features. “You do find her attractive, don’t you? Have you thought about my mate, Azriel? What you would like to do to her?” Az could barely breathe, refusing to believe what he was hearing. “She’s beautiful, Cass, of course - but I would never...” Cassian’s eyes flared with a heat that stopped Azriel from saying what he planned next. “...And if I told you she might be interested in that as well?”
That was how you found yourself anxiously waiting in your room, nothing but your silk robe covering your body as your mate entered the room, Azriel following closely behind. You’d fantasized about this more than you could admit - being between the two Illyrians, feeling the caress of Azriel’s shadows in tandem with Cassian’s rough hands. 
Azriel closed the door behind them, the two males towering over your form as they neared you. The heady scent of arousal had already permeated throughout the room when Cassian spoke. “Sweetheart, what’s the word if you want us to stop, at any time?” You let out a shaky breath. “Red.” A whimper left your lips as Cassian’s hand made contact with your ass. “Red, sir.” With a content hum, Cassian’s hand smoothed where he had just made contact. “Good girl,” he murmured with a kiss to your temple before turning to make his way towards the bed. 
Cassian stripped down, laying naked against the headboard of the bed as he watched you and Azriel with a predatory gaze, enjoying his private show of his wife and his best friend. Noting the hesitancy between you, Cassian drawled, “don’t keep her waiting, Az. Show my girl what you can do.” His words set off a fresh wave of your arousal, which was enough encouragement for Azriel to finally move.
Tugging on the tie of your robe, Azriel pulled you in close to him, angling your head how he wanted you as he kissed you fiercely, prying your mouth open as he slipped his tongue inside, thrusting the muscle in tandem with his hips as they rolled against you. You moaned into his mouth, instinctively arching into his body as you ground against him. Cool wisps of shadow untied your robe, the garment falling open to expose your body to Azriel. 
He pulled away, eyes darkening as a low groan sounded in his throat. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Cassian spoke from the bed, where you turned to see him shamelessly stroking himself as he locked eyes with you. You whimpered at the sight, desperate for touch as you shed your robe entirely. Cassian let out a low laugh. “Come up here, angel. Az, put her out of her misery.” 
You slowly crawled up the mattress towards Cassian, about to ask him what position he wanted you in when you felt hands wrap around your ankles, effortlessly flipping you onto your back. You gasped as Cassian looped his hands under your arms and pulled you against his chest, leaning back against the pillows. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized they must have planned what to do with you - jaw going slack as Azriel removed his shirt, leaving him in only grey sweatpants as he settled between your legs on the bed. 
Shadows twined around your ankles once more, pulling them apart to expose you to their master. You writhed against their hold, but Cassian quickly put a stop to that as one of his arms draped across your hips, easily pinning you in place. Azriel’s shadows slithered up and down your body, teasing your nipples, lightly pulling on your hair, you were quickly being worked into a frenzy. 
Cassian brought up his free hand to your mouth, two fingers prodding at your lips as he commanded, “open.” You obeyed, closing your mouth around his fingers just as Azriel licked a broad stripe up your center. You squealed around Cassian’s hand, Azriel letting out a dark laugh against your clit. You locked eyes with him - absentmindedly sucking and licking on Cassian’s fingers - as Azriel wrapped his lips around your clit. 
Your head fell back against Cassian’s shoulder as you continued to struggle against his grip, jerking harder as you neared your orgasm. Your mate pulled his fingers from your mouth, allowing your wanton moans to echo throughout the room. Azriel groaned at the sound, rutting his own hips into the mattress as he brought a finger your center, easing in as he pumped at a leisurely pace. He looked over your shoulder at Cassian, giving him a signal that you didn’t have time to work out before Cassian’s hand slipped behind you, one of his wet fingers circling your asshole. “FUCK, Az, Cass,” you panted head turning violently from side to side as they overstimulated you. 
Azriel sucked harshly on your clit, pulsing his lips around the bud as his tongue flicked against it - the distraction easing the feeling of Cassian’s finger slipping inside your rear entrance. You came without warning, vision going spotty as you crashed into your orgasm harder than ever before. Neither of them gave you a break, instead doubling down on their movements as both of them added a second finger to each of your holes.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured against your neck as he kissed the skin beneath your ear. “We’re just getting you warmed up.” The lewd moan that escaped you at his words made you blush, Azriel smirking up at you before glancing to Cassian. “You were right, Cass, she does taste divine.” He leaned back his heels, looking down at you with feral amusement. “But how does she feel?” 
You gasped, eagerly nodding in your best attempt to communicate. Azriel backed off the bed, slipping off his pants until he was fully naked before you. Your mouth went dry as you took in the sight of him in all of his glory. “I need words, angel. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you. That you want me to fill your pussy in front of your mate.” You expected Cassian to get angry at Azriel’s remark, but instead the male focused on spreading his fingers in your hole, humming in agreement. “You heard Azriel, sweetheart. Use your words.”
“Az, please fuck me. I... need you inside of me,” you managed out through your humiliation. With a wicked grin, Azriel cooed, “good girl,” moving back onto the bed. But instead of lining up at your entrance, the two males maneuvered you, Cassian’s hard cock at your rear entrance. You moaned at the feeling, looking over your shoulder to nod at Cassian in encouragement. He slowly entered you from behind, using your dripping slick as lubricant until you were full of him. With a gasp, you fell until you were propped on your elbows, your ass pressed firmly against Cassian’s hips. 
Azriel watched you with a barely restrained hunger that made you clench, eliciting a loud groan from Cassian behind you. “Please, Az,” you whispered, desperately gesturing for him to come closer. The Illyrian didn’t need to be asked twice, quickly settling between your thighs as you pulled him in for a heated kiss. You were tugged back from the kiss by your hair, Cassian growling out, “enough. I’m not waiting any longer, Az. Fuck her before I take her myself.” 
Azriel pushed into you slowly, stretching you like nothing you had ever felt before. He was longer than Cassian, and just as thick. You were panting as he settled inside of you - all three of you needing to catch your breath. You nodded, signaling them to start moving. Cassian propped his feet up on the bed, thrusting up into your ass as Azriel pounded your cunt. Between the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other through your walls and Azriel’s shadows continuing to toy with your nipples and clit, you reached your high again quickly, shattering as you went limp between the two Illyrians. 
They continued pounding into you as you lay there like a toy for their pleasure, until Cassian came inside of you with a roar. He stayed seated inside of you for a moment, pulling out to hold you close to his chest, pressing kisses and whispering affirmations against your skin as Azriel continued fucking you senseless. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, and Azriel pulled out to spill all over your stomach. He blushed at the sight, but you smirked as you swiped a finger across the cum, reveling in his shocked expression as you sucked it into your mouth. 
Once Az snapped from his daze, he murmured something about being right back and left to the bathroom. Returning with a warm, wet washcloth, Azriel cleaned you up as Cassian continued to praise you. Az grabbed his clothes to leave, but you shook your head and patted the mattress next to you. Something felt wrong about him leaving after this. 
Azriel joined you on the other side of the covers from Cassian, the three of you settling in for bed when Cassian murmured quietly, “I hope you both know, that will not be the last time we do that.” Mother, you hoped not.
Next Part
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hellsenthero · 3 months
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Little sneak peek at my ACOTAR wip. Who's ready for some cazriel?
Read the fic here.
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danikamariewrites · 19 days
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Nexus Being
Cazriel x reader
A/n: Happy poly week day 3! I am so excited to give you this scarlet witch reader fic and hope you like it. @polyacotarweek
Warnings: slight angst and fluff at the end
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You pace in front of the hearth in Rhys’s office. Lost in thought, sorting through the pros and cons of what your High Lord, friend, and brother has just asked of you. 
Rhys leaned forward. His elbows on his knees, jaw clenched as he waits for your response. The High Lord didn’t feel good about asking this of you. But Helion couldn’t come up with a solution nor Thesan. Prythian was out of options and you are the last resort. 
You stop, inhaling deeply before closing your eyes. Rubbing at your face you turn to Rhys. That distressed look from when he asked you the unfathomable still pulling at your features. 
“She didn’t leave me the book.”
“I know, but you have to understand-”
“No, Rhys,” you say as calmly as you can, “she didn’t leave me the book.” 
The High Lord nods slowly, taking in the vital information you just dropped on him. “She did leave me other books. Spells that can help but that one is gone. I can come up with something but I need all the time you can give me.” 
“I will do what I can, but delaying Koeschi doesn’t seem likely.” Your eyes wander as you think. 
“I haven’t done this since before she died. Not even Cass and Azriel know.” 
“I can tell them if you want.” He offers gently. “No,” you whisper. “I’ll tell them myself. I just need time.” Rhys nods again. It seems like that’s all he can do right now.
———
The first step was Windhaven. The next, a High Lords meeting. Your stomach was in knots over the thought of telling your mates who you are. What you inherited. 
Your mother, an advisor to Rhys’s father, was the infamous Scarlet Witch. A gift that wasn’t supposed to be passed down. Or so harshly. According to Rhys you rivaled your mother in power. 
Scared of the potential destruction you could cause to the world or reality you buried your powers. Only letting magic out when there was an unbearable tightness under your skin. You passed it off as the magic you inherited from your High Fae father. But that can only explain so much. 
Staring at the suit you made changes to to fit your body and be more in line with your fashion sense. Your eyes quickly glancing over the crown that rests across your forehead has you losing a shuddering breath. An intimidating gift indeed. 
You could hear Cassian and Azriel changing into their leathers in their own closet. Speaking in hushed tones. 
Your mates still don’t know you are going with them to Windhaven. Rhys couldn’t give you the time you needed. Thanks to Koeschi’s new impatience the plan has been moved up by weeks. 
A knock on your closet door had you jumping out of your skin. A ring clad hand resting over your chest to keep your rapidly beating heart inside. It was now or…later you guessed. Better now. 
Slightly opening the double doors so your mates could only see you, you stare up at them. They tried their best not to look so tense but failed miserably. “Hey y/n/n, we just wanted to say bye. It’ll be a few days but we’ll be home before you know it.” Cassian said softly, cupping your face in his large hands. Azriel’s shadows began to stir curiously. His eyes narrowed as two floated up to his ears. You swallowed nervously which Cassian mistook as longing for your mates. 
But Azriel knew. Knew you were holding back. Opening the doors wider you look down at the duffle bag you packed hours ago when Rhys told you to. The males looked down then back to you confused. “Why are you…” Azriel trails off. One of his shadows quickly darts into the closet to investigate your secret. When it hits the shield you put up a red ripple, like a rock hitting a pond's smooth surface, disturbs the darkness of your closet. Opening the doors all the way you turn your back on your mates. Not wanting to see their reactions. 
“I have something to tell you.” Your shoulders tense as you feel their apprehensive gazes on you. Raising your hand a pinkish-red light surrounds your fingers. Waiting to do your bidding, to be shaped in your image. With a slight swish of your fingers the shield dropped, revealing your black and scarlet ensemble with the crown to match. 
Turning back to face them you had silent tears running down your cheeks. Their mouths opened as shock took over. They knew that crown. What power you possess. Before the males could ask questions you went on.
”My mother was the Scarlet Witch. As you know she was part of Rhys’s fathers council. I was never supposed to inherit her power, but the universe has other plans. I know she is supposed to be a horror story. But my mother was the kindest woman I knew. She taught me everything to know about wielding this…unusual power. 
“I don’t know everything though. When she died her book went with her. I’m not sure if it just turned to dust or if the gods placed it elsewhere. Truthfully, I’m glad it’s gone. The thing turned sane people mad and I had no interest in ever opening it. My first lesson was that all magic comes with a price and there is a lot I’m not willing to pay for.” 
You turn to face them, standing taller than before, tears now dried. “I’m coming with you. Rhys asked. And before you say anything, know he gave me a choice. I am doing this to save us.” Your voice broke on the last word. Tears threaten to spill again at their silence.  
There was a quiet rage swimming in Azriel’s eyes as he held his tongue, not daring to speak in case he said something he regrets. His eyes glued to your suit. Cassian was in awe of you. Of the power you hold. The bond humming as the full power between the three of you is revealed. 
All Cassian did was hold out his hand to you. Showing he did not fear you. Waving your hands over your torso that scarlet light runs down your body, dressing you in your suit and crown. 
When your mother wore it you thought it was the most beautiful piece of clothing. Now that you wear it you don’t know what to think.
It is your now though. The cloak clasped around your shoulders is your mother’s broach of the three faced goddess. You kept the scarlet corset, adding a black body suit under it. The elbow length gloves stayed the same except for the fingers. You changed them to a black fabric to mimic your mothers hands after using that damn spell book so much. The boots were new too. A matching scarlet leather with black ruins painted on them for protection. 
Taking Cassian’s outstretched hand you grapes your bag in the other. He gave you a small smile. Azriel couldn’t even look at you. Wouldn’t. 
As shadows wrapped around the three of you, you reached out to Azriel only to hit a dark wall guarding his heart. 
———
The trip to Windhaven went exactly as Rhys had planned. Devlon was terrified to see the Scarlet Witch once more. The soldiers fell into line out of fear, ready to listen to Rhys and Cassian’s every command. 
You had trailed them through the camp. Head held high as you kept power eminanting from your hands. You felt uneasy about the whole thing. Like you were lying.  
As soon as you got back to Rhys’s mothers house you made a beeline for the bathroom. Gripping the the sink, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. A soft knock on the door has your head shooting up. Looking at your reflection your eyes glued to the crown perfectly balanced on your forehead. It had never felt so heavy before.
Another knock, a little louder this time, forces you to open the door. Your met with Cassian’s soft face as he looks down at you. “Hey sweet pea, want to talk?” You nod. He steps aside, following you to the empty bedroom. You noticed your and Cassian’s bags were unpack while Azriel’s still sat at the end of the bed untouched. 
You nervously pulled at the fingers of your gloves, pacing next to the bed. Cassian gently perched himself on the edge of the bed, waving you over to stand between his massive thighs. Cass dramatically swishes your cloak out and places his hands on your hips. 
“I’m very proud of you, sweet pea. Today was tough but you got through it. It is no easy feat to face Devlon and our armies like that.” Cassian pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. Rubbing a hand up and down your spine. 
“Thank you, love.” You softly kiss his forehead, holding his jaw. It’s hard to fully accept that your mates are proud when one of them isn’t here. Azriel hasn’t spoken to you all day. Just to Rhys and Feyre when needed. Other than that he has been doing only the Mother knows what. 
Cass sends love and adoration down the bond noticing the shift in your mood. “Give him time. We’ve all had secrets, he’s just processing.” You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Can we go to bed, it’s late?” “Of course, sweet pea.” 
Sleep evaded you that night. Trapped in Cassian’s arms you waited for Az to come to bed. Tears pricked your eyes when the sun started to come up, yet there was no sign of your mate. 
—-——
The High Lords meeting had you even more anxious than the camps. Rhys made sure you stayed hidden. 
Before heading into the meeting your High Lord asked you to wait until you were called upon. Your mates didn’t like that. They fought with their brother, accusing him of treating you like a party trick when you were so much more. “Whatever it takes to convince them.” You had bravely told the males you love. It made their bickering cease but you could still feel their unease.
As they left Azriel’s gaze lingered on you. Giving him a small wave, sending a pulse of love down the bond.  
Pacing in front of the doors to the meeting room you toy with the gold rings decorating your gloved fingers. The Day Court sentries guarding the room were tense. You could smell the fear on them as they looked everywhere but at you. 
Rhys tapped on your mental shields. The signal for you to finally present yourself. With a wave of your hand the gold and mahogany double doors open. All eyes were on you except your court. You knew they were sat with smug, nonchalant looks on their faces. “May I present, the Scarlet Witch. Born again and even more powerful than her predecessor.”   
There was an sharp intake of breath that echoes around the room. Helion and Kallias and Viviane looked surprised but bowed their heads at you. Tarquin was just exasperated. Sick of the tricks the Night Court has up their sleeves no doubt. 
Tamlin and Thesan looked shocked. Like they were ready to attack in case you breathed wrong. You stood by Rhysand, looking like the perfect picture of boredom as you stared down your nose at the Lords. 
Beron stood, surprisingly in front of his wife and children. Flames dancing wildly at his finger tips. Pointing at you Beron began his tirade. “We knew how her mother was! How dare you keep this from us Rhysand! The witch must-” Shadows swarmed the Autumn High Lord, binding him to his seat and keeping his mouth shut. 
“Must what Beron?” Azriel asked, tone cold as death. Anger danced in his eyes as he moved to the edge of his seat. Poised to attack no matter the outcome. Before the situation could escalate you hold up a hand wreathed in that scarlet light. “Thank you love, but you can let him go.”    
“If you want to have a chance against Koeschi I am your best bet.” You say staring down the High Lords. “Now,” waving your hands sending scarlet power out candles appear in a circle on the floor and floating around the room. A stack of spell books in the center of the rune on the floor, “I have casting to do and it would be best to leave me be.” 
As they head out Azriel and Cassian linger in the doorway for a few moments. You don’t look back, knowing they’d distract you. Sitting criss cross on the floor you spread the books out with a wave of your hands. Turning your hands palms up the books float up as you do keeping your legs crossed. Closing your eyes you focus on Kosechi, the spell to keep him bound to the lake, and how to rival his power.   
Hours later you're finally back in the room you're sharing with your mates. Leaning against the door you rub at your temples. Mother, you forgot how much of a headache spellcasting gave you.
Your mates stood from their chairs in the small sitting area. Looking at you like you were a power bomb ready to explode at any moment. Breezing past them you stop at the vanity, beggining to take off your rings and other accessories. The crown coming off last.
Behind you, Cassian and Azriel are having a silent conversation. Cass urging Az with his eyes to say something. Azriel clears his throat, "Y/n, can we talk?" Letting out a sigh you turn and lean against the vanity, crossing your arms. You raise a brow at him to go on.
"I want to apologize for my silence towards you, my love. Processing your powers has been a lot for me." You couldn't believe your ears. This was a lot for him? "It's been hard for you? Imagine what it's like for me! I never wanted to inherit this or control it. I live in fear of what I could potentially do to the world. I thought you, my mate, of all people would understand, especially with your shadows."
Cassian looked terrified. He just wanted peace between the three of you restored. The stare down going on between the two of you was nothing like he had ever seen before. Two different sets of dark power ready to be let loose.
Azriel broke first. His shoulders slump with silver lining those bright hazel eyes, now dim from shame. "It made me doubt the bond." You and Cassian were caught off guard by his vulnerability. "What," you whisper. Cass stepped up to hold his shoulders, leaving a small kiss on temple. "C'mon Az, tell us what's wrong."
Guiding him over to the couch, Cassian sits next to Azriel as you kneel in front of him, holding his scared hands. "When you revealed you were the Scarlet Witch all I could think of was the reality bending aspect of your powers. I immediately started having thoughts about the bond between the three of us not being real. That the Cauldron didn't gift me this love. That you created it and my world was going to come tumbling down. I know you would never do that after seeing you in the camps and at the meeting today. Hell, I knew you would never do that period.
"I'm sorry I thought so low of you. I just-I got so scared that you kept this from us, y/n. Please forgive me." He give you a pleading look as tears fall down his cheeks.
You can't deny the pain in your heart at Azriel's confession. You could never in a million years even fathom manipulating a person into a mating bond. Closing your eyes your own tears fall silently down your cheeks.
"Azriel, I would never ever do that. To either of you." Your voice wavers from the lump forming in your throat. "I can't say I'm not hurt but I do understand where you are coming from." Standing, you place yourself on Azriel's lap never breaking eye contact. He wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close. Cassian watched you both with hopeful eyes.
Placing a hand on Azriel's chest you send love down the bond. "Do you feel that?" "Yes."
"Does it feel real?" "Yes." You give him a small smile. "Then it's real Az. No spells, no witch craft. That golden thread between us is as real as the Cauldron." Azriel pulls you into a crushing hug against his chest. "I love you," he whispers into your hair. "I love you more."
"I love you most," Cassian chimes in, gathering the both of you in his strong arms. "Lets make a promise that from now on there are no more secrets between us, yeah?" You both stare up at him, nodding your heads. "Promise," you say in unison.
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Triad Part 8 — Reunited and it Feels So Good
A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon
Series Masterlist
A/N: Ya'll this part is good but the next one (which is only half finished) is imho the best one yet!!!!
Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!
Warnings: Angst, some smut
Azriel falls into your open, waiting arms, body wracking with full-force sobs. You stagger back but luckily Cassian is there to catch you. He wraps his arms around both of you and kicks the door shut with his foot before sliding to the floor.
After gently manhandling you into place, he’s got both of you balanced on his lap. Az buries his head into the crook of Cas’s neck and you rest your forehead in between Az’s shoulder blades, just above the spot where his wings connect to his back. You press him against Cas’s chest and focus on sending love and reassurance through the bond to strengthen it on Azriel’s side.
It’s okay, you murmur through the bond. You’re home, you’re safe.
We’re here, love, Cas adds, sending wave after wave of shimmering gold and red towards Az. His red mixes with Az’s blue and swirls with your purple until the three strands of magic braid together, becoming one again.
Az’s sobs taper off into soft gasps and he clutches Cas.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hoarse and quiet. His shadows swirl around the three of you as an extra layer of protection, keeping all of the love and magic contained in a tight ball in order to help heal their master’s mind faster.
“Oh, baby,” you mutter against his skin, wrapping your arms around him from behind to rub your hands in slow, lazy circles around his belly button.
“I shouldn’t have blocked you out. Not that much, I just… I was so scared.” Az’s voice breaks on the last word, the sobs lurking just under the surface threatening to come back out. Words tumble out of his mouth, a waterfall of apologies and regrets. “Things are getting so bad down there—I couldn’t let them get to you. I was…I would’ve stayed there as long as I had to, until I could be sure that you’d be safe.”
“Hey, hey, hey, shhh,” Cas shushes him.
“We didn’t know what would happen, either.” You say.
“You’re not mad at me?” Az asks, bright hazel eyes blinking up at Cas first, then turning to focus on you.
“We’ll never be mad at you for trying to protect us,” you assure him, voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss between Az’s shoulder blades.
“You’re ours,” Cassian growls. His possessiveness hits you like a blow to the head; suddenly, it’s like there’s a feral cat in your chest trying to claw its way to Azriel. You tighten your grip around his waist, pushing yourself flush to his back as Cas slams his lips against Az’s.
It’s instinctual, the way Az surges forward, his fight or flight mode easily activated after his recent mission. You try to channel some calm his way, and eventually it works because he’s able to pull himself out of that dominant headspace, melting against your chest as he gives himself over to Cas.
Cas grunts, reaching one arm around to tap against your ass. Combined with the disjointed images flashing through your mind from Cassian’s side of the bond, you get the hint and scramble off of his lap, tugging Azriel back with you.
Az whimpers at the loss of contact and tugs on the hairs at the nape of Cassian’s neck, beckoning him forward.
I’m yours, he says through the bond, sending all of his pent-up arousal along with it. You feel it course through your veins, curling your toes. Cas slips out from under Az and pushes on his chest until you’ve got a lap full of dark waves.
Using your fingers, you comb through Az’s tangled locks with your fingers, channeling a bit of healing magic out through your touch. He sinks further into your lap and you move to his shoulders, working out the knots surrounding his wings.
Cas coaxes Az’s leathers open, tearing the fabric of his undershirt to reveal the planes of his abs.
“Fuck, baby,” Cas groans, sliding his hips back and lowering his lips to the crook of Az’s neck, using soft bites and soothing sucks to coax a needy whine from deep in the Shadowsinger’s throat. It doesn’t take long for him to move lower, trailing kisses down the lean, muscled planes of Az’s stomach, letting his tongue dip into every groove.
When Cas’s nose brushes against the wiry hairs beneath Az’s belly button, Az’s back arches, subconsciously trying to guide Cas lower. Cas lifts his head to smirk at you as he pops open the buttons of Az’s pants one by one until they’re loose enough to shimmy down, freeing Az’s cock. It springs up, leaking against his stomach.
Kiss-bitten lips wrap around the tip and Az’s hands reach back to clamp around your thighs, fingernails dulled by your soft linen sleep pants.
“Fuck,” he whines as Cas slowly lowers his head until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark curls at the base of Az’s cock. Az squeezes his eyes shut, head tilting back as Cas lifts his hips off the floor. “‘M not gonna last.”
You trail your hands down his chest, grazing the pads of your fingers over his nipples, and lean down to whisper in his ear.
“It’s okay, babe. Just let us take care of you.”
With your lips sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck and Cas trying to fully swallow his dick, it doesn’t take long for Az to tense up and then fall back, eyes watering as he shoots his release down Cas’s throat.
There’s no trace of it when Cas lifts his head up and wipes the back of his hand across his satisfied smirk. Seeing Az fully relaxed with his head in your lap makes Cas’s heart clench, sending waves of love down the bond.
“C’mon, love,” he says, tugging on Az’s hands to help him up. Az’s eyes flutter open, staring up at Cas through a pleasure and exhaustion induced haze. You stand up, helping maneuver Az into a standing position, and head to the kitchen to make tea while Cas gets Az settled in the middle of the bed.
Armed with a tray of tea and pastries, you gently push the door open to reveal Az clinging to Cas, curled up on his side and tucked into the space between Cas’s arm and torso. Soft snores fill the room, making you giggle. With a wave of your hand, you send the tray to the bedside table, instructing your magic to keep the tea warm.
You wrap yourself around Az from behind, reaching your arm as far as it can go and making grabby hands at Cas. He chuckles and slides his free hand into yours, squeezing tightly.
“He’s home,” you breath, letting yourself melt into the mattress.
“Yeah,” Cas echoes, fondness shimmering in his eyes as he takes in the sight of his mates tucked safely next to him in bed. “Our boy is home.”
Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638@hnyclover @anutellaa @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @queerqueenlynn @brujitafantomatico
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azsazz · 11 months
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can you recommend of any more good fanfics where the reader is mates with two (or all three) of the batboys? like they’re all poly? i’ve read all of yours and i’m craving for more 😩
Let's see...
@slutsofren has an ACOTAR reimagined series called The High Lady of Cunning
@princess-tulip-writes has an az x lucien threesome
@fieldofdaisiies has nessian x reader headcanons
@godwick has a few poly fics
@arizona2004 has some cazriel x reader fics
@illyrian-dreamer has a cazriel x reader fic called Our Girl
@clairebear08 also has a cazriel x reader called Mated
@honeybeefae has a kintober poly!batboys fic
@amchapel has a few poly things
@azrielscrown has mind games (rhysand x az)
@bloodycassian has multiple poly fics including nessian x reader, all three bat boys, and cazriel to link a few.
@writingsbychlo has this poly!batboys drabble
I'm sure I'm missing a TON of people but here's what I have for now. If you have any other recs please tag/comment them! You'd be doing us all a huge favor 💙💙
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