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#from Az's POV
flowerflamestars · 5 months
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Another alternative Effloresce pov. Azriel, as the slow moving shitshow train wreck his life is is quickly becoming a fast moving shit show train wreck.
I cannot tell you how much I love this one!
So, I would say across all my fics Azriel is a character who is the most consistent? Especially since almost all of them were written before acosf TERRIBLY let us in his actually creepy little headspace, and I've additionally chosen to keep my made up shadowman as he is.
Effloresce Az is basically Starlight Az but SADDER. He's Daylight Az without a kiddo and husband, Shoreless Sea Az without the absolutely beneficial retirement, and man is he TIRED.
You're Azriel, and your job sucks. Your inborn skillset leaves you zero other options, and you know this. It's better to be the left hand of power than in a cell for life, but you know what? Sometimes you can only do so goddamn much.
You're Azriel and that's kind of all you've got. You're one of a kind, literally. Alone forever in that. But you love Cassian. You play the little games with Mor for harmony. You respect- alien, ancient, different, probably what you'll feel like in a thousand goddamn years if you live that long- Amren.
You see the good in Rhysand, limited as it is to personal things, but you also see the vast potential for failure.
You see him listening to this CHILD OF A GIRL- who seems nice, yeah. You're worried about her, frankly. The Courts of Prythian revived her and will not just let that go- but that doesn't mean you think she has, shall we say, good ideas.
You watch Cassian spend days arguing against this.
You rock up over the wall and realize these two mortal, innocent women have probably been taken captive by Spring. Your orders are a mistake, you have a war to fight that has nothing to do with these people, but you're here, and you might as well do some good.
You move to neutralize the threat.
Lucien Vanserra does not act like a vassal of Spring. No, not even at Autumn prince. You can drown fire in the dark, but you can't swallow the sun or an ocean of flame without end.
That doesn't matter either, because this determined little slip of blond sunshine just fucking stabbed you. And for the first time in maybe decades, you just want to laugh. You've fucked up, clearly, but you're okay. (You can live through so much worse than letting a human woman stab you to feel safe.)
You hear Cassian coming, and you know.
It doesn't matter what Feyre is saying. Has said. You're Azriel and you can't not know or not hear- she's wrong or she lied. You have a High Lord sweating blood to protect a stunningly, dangerously charming woman and you have her sister, who feels less like delight and more like a dream.
You're a shadowsinger, whose providence is secrets and these two woman are shrouded.
You're fucked, essentially.
You know they're not really human.
You know they're hiding, and Feyre is going to break that right open if Rhysand has his way, no matter how many times you point out that the Queens want nothing to do with Prythian's fae.
You're Azriel, and you've always been smart enough to stay quiet when you have no orders forcing you to do otherwise. You're polite. You're frankly, horrified. You have no idea what to do with the Archeron sisters acting like you're nothing to be afraid of.
You know, before Cassian knows, that every wind that has ever carried him had lead him right here.
(You remember what that felt like. The fear, the euphoria. You were young and stupid enough to consider it simple rightness, your extra senses on your side, pulling you toward the correct choice in fealty. You didn't know what it was until too late. You didn't know and you never even got to know or got to mourn. You didn't have the right to mourn a girl dead too soon, who would have never been anything but your queen had she grown old enough to wear a crown.)
(Dead before the start, just like you.)
You decide, immediately, you cannot let what happened to you happen to Cassian. Nesta Archeron might be a compelling power, might be a fighter with ash in her hair and a cunning mind, but Shahar was a High Lady born. Not even that could save her.
You understand the instant way you like Elain is magic, whether she knows it or not. (She does not). Real affection follows quickly, you are, despite all magic to the contrary, as Illyrian as Cassian. You cannot not know. You like Nesta too- if only for her ferocity. Her bleeding, present fury.
They treat you like a person.
Fearlessly.
Easily.
You watch as their sister breaks their hearts, cracks already laid. You watch Rhysand act more and more territorial, and of course you know why too. You watch Lucien Vanserra safeguard the lives and livelihoods of hundreds of humans and you understand this, here, is a Court too.
A better one.
You quietly, a secret, kill their father.
You bind yourself in blood to a favor, and use it to unshackle the Archeron bloodline and their vassals from the Queens.
You watch Nesta Archeron kneel in the snow, watch Elain Archeron pull a knife on a High Lord of Prythian over human lives, and think, with dread and barren exhaustion, you're making the right choice.
The hard choice.
(How many noncombatants died in Sangravah? In every city Amarantha occupied? How many servants in the Hewn City every year? How many Illyrian children in the starving north? How many deaths were Azriel's fault, because Rhysand didn't care?)
(The Archerons would rather die with their people than live. Were educating their maids. Sending their kitchen boys to university. Taking in the orphans of other estates, having never forgotten what it was to be forgotten, hungry and alone.)
You're Azriel, and you can't not know how badly this is going to hurt.
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hattersarts · 9 months
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drew some book!husbands. they feel like they've taken more traits from each other than the show.
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grandwretch · 1 year
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fic where Steve falls for Eddie when Eddie still views him as an interesting sociological project make me an insane person
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bookofmirth · 2 years
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do you think the way azriel's book is gonna go is that he's with elain at first, just for a little while, and then finally gets together with his mate gwyn
Nah, I don't think so. I just don't see those two happening even for a minute, when it's been months since they last interacted. Az throwing a fit when Rhys told him to back off was just one more in his growing number of temper tantrums and neither he nor Elain seem too pressed about doing... literally anything together. Rhys said "nah" and Az said "but... okay." Meanwhile Elain is feeling rejected, not only because he pulled away but because he literally winnowed the fuck out of the room when he knew he had hurt her feelings, yikes. I just don't see it.
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
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“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters
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warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh
summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀
do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:
amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs
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ᯓ★ RHYSAND
⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !
⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !
⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !
⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !
⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !
⟢ afternath of said creampie !
⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !
⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !
ᯓ★ CASSIAN
⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !
⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !
⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !
⟢ getting deepstroked by him !
⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !
⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !
⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !
⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !
⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !
ᯓ★ AZRIEL
⟢ getting pounded from behind !
⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !
⟢ riding azriel’s face !
⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !
⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !
⟢ temperature play with azriel !
⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !
⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !
⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !
ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA
⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !
⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !
⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !
⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !
⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !
⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !
⟢ eris eating you out !
⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !
ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA
⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !
⟢ 69’ing with his mate !
⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !
⟢ softly making out mid sex !
⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !
⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !
⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !
⟢ riding + nipple play !
ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON
⟢ french kissing feyre !
⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !
⟢ eating her out while fingering !
⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !
⟢ teasing you through your panties !
⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !
⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !
⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !
⟢ tounge play with feyre !
ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON
⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !
⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !
⟢ distracted when baking a cake !
⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !
⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !
⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !
⟢ morning kisses with elain !
⟢ scissoring session !
ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON
⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !
⟢ going dumb on her strap !
⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !
⟢ creaming on her fingers !
⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !
⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !
⟢ riding nesta’s strap !
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lure-of-writing · 18 days
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His little sister
Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister (This should be read only after reading all in a days work and knock before you enter otherwise it probably won't make any sense as you need the know what happened in the other two for this to make sense )
word count: 2.5 k
Note: Hello! For a while I was stumped on how to continue the little sister series so boom! I present to you Azriel's pov. I would love to hear what you guys think about having things from this perspective also! please don't be shy and let me know!
The playful touches and not so subtle glances across the room paired with the seductive bit of your lip as it lifts into a forbidden smile is not lost upon the spymaster of the night court. In fact everything you did never went unnoticed by him. As Rhysands little sister he was more or less forbidden from having any relationship with you that was purely platonic or sibling-like. Much to the high lord's irritation, once you learned of the rules set in place for the general and the shadow singer, you had made it your own personal mission to see just how much you could get away with. Just how far could you bend the rules before your older brother snapped? 
Azriel was well aware of the game you played in hopes of causing your brother a small amount of distress. Unfortunately for him, he respected his high lord and his wishes to much to counter your advances with some of his own but that doesn’t mean he can’t help you accomplish your lifes works of making your brother rub his temples with a long sigh and a shot of whiskey or which ever bottle of alcohol appeared before him first. 
It had been just a few short weeks after your fifteenth birthday when you had learned about the guidelines Rhys had set for the two other males in your family. Being told what to do never sat well with you, neither did being told who you can and can’t do things with. At first your reaction was to find your brother and argue with him until he couldn’t think straight but when you were on the way to his office you bumped into your favorite member of the bat boys.  Azriel was leaning  against the wall of Rhysands office waiting for his meeting with Helion when you were stuck with a brilliant idea. “Az?” his hazel eyes shifted from the dark oak doors to where you stood in the middle of the hall. “Yes?”  as soon as the word had left his mouth he knew you were up to something. It was the way your eyes lit up in excitement and you shuffled over to him with hurried steps. Huddled close to his body you beaconed him to lean down so you could whisper in his ears. Wordlessly he follows your commands. “Would you like to help me make Rhys question why he was blessed with being my brother?” 
The sly smile and trouble that brewed in your eyes was enough to get him to say yes. Not like he could ever say no to you in the first place but that wasn’t important. From that moment on he would allow you to flirt with him and crawl into his lap with no rejection. This drove Rhysand up a wall. He said that they could not try to flirt with you but you never said anything about it being the other way around and you had taken full advantage of that each and every single time the opportunity presented itself. 
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Family dinners amongst the inner circle were never an uncommon thing but since everything that transpired over the last fifty something years had the family dinners becoming a more common tradition. After dinner talks and catching up had been moved to the living room. Silently Azriel sat by himself, listening to his family talk. Perfectly content with listening rather than speaking. While Cassian went on this third rant about why he was certain that he could fight Bryaxis, if and big if here, they weren’t so scary looking, when you had gotten up from where you were sat next to Mor on the floor. He watched as you left the room and not even a second later his shadows informed him that you were getting another wine. 
His attention shifted from his brother onto you when you had reentered the room with a glass full of wine and strutted over to him and made yourself comfortable in his lap. Az would never admit it but the feeling of your arm draped over his shoulder and playing with his hair was one of his favorite feelings in the world. As your body leaned into his, the temperate difference between the two of you became very apparent to the shadowsinger. Without thinking he placed his much warmer hand on your freezing and goosebump covered leg to help warm you back up. The slit in your dress had done nothing to help keep you warm. 
Without saying anything he watched as his brother marched his way over to where you had chosen to sit, also known as Azriels lap. He watched as Rhys reached his hand out in hopes of pulling you off of closest friend and he watched as Rhysands face morphed into one of confusion to anger as Azriels wings furled around you to keep your brother from grabbing you from him. If there was one thing that the shadowsinger knew with one hundred percent certainty, it was that you could handle yourself. The context didn’t matter, you could always handle yourself. So while you and your brother went back and front he mindlessly began to rub comforting circles where his hand had found purchase on your leg. And once Rhysand had made his way back to his mate, he had leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. “You are a menace” giggling you smile up at him before shrugging and taking a sip of your forgotten wine. 
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Visiting the court of nightmares was never something that brought Azriel much joy. More often than not he was watching for any threats against his high lord's life, now he had to worry about his high lady also. It wasn’t as if Azriel wasn’t capable of handling such a task but when you had revealed that you would also be in attendance, it brought Azriel another level of stress. He knew that you could handle the court politics and the volleyball of words sent back and forth with hidden messages. Hell you had even been trained by all three males and Morrgian. You were more than capable of looking out for yourself but there has always been a part of Azriel that couldn’t rest when he knew you could be in danger at any moment. 
Now the notoriously quiet male, while known for not saying much, always had something to say when it came to you. There was no comment too small that you made that didn’t get an answer from Az in return.  As you finally made your way down the staircase to your awaiting family Azriel had just about a thousand thoughts and compliments he could give you at any moment. While your brother had a meltdown in the background all Azriel could focus on was you and as you made your way down the last few steps he reached his hand out helping you the rest of the way down. Shamelessly he looked you up and down not caring that your brother just might beat his ass for looking at you in such an outfit. Once his eyes reached your, you sent him a wink and beaming smile. Az could tell that you had wanted to ask him what he thought of your clothing choices but decided that dealing with your brother would be the best idea  before he dragged you back up the stairs himself and forced you to change. 
While at the place of nightmares the shadows that sung to Azriel hung close to his body, only leaving to secretly watch over you and make sure you were ok. For most of the night all was well, at least as well as things can get in the court of nightmares. That was until his shadow came back to inform their master of the predicament that had presented itself to you. He watched from afar as you pushed your way out of the crowd and towards himself. Pushing off of the pillar he was once perched against he made his way towards you. Az’s blood began to boil when he watched the random fae male wrap his arms around your waist and pulled your body into his. In two long strides he was in front of the strange male and yourself, demanding he release his grip on you or he would do it for him. There wasn’t a part of Azriel that enjoyed the violence he brings upon those he was tasked with gathering information from but holding truth teller to the male's neck did in fact bring him joy. 
Upon your release he guided you back to where he was previously standing to make sure you were ok and that the random male didn’t inflict any harm to you. After his thorough evaluation of your body met his standards he returned his gaze to meet your and suddenly your cold hand was pressed against his warm cheek and the burn of the two temperatures had never felt so nice before. Once again your hand had found its resting place in his hair and your lips on his and Azriel swore hes never felt something as soft as your lips on his.  As soon as your lips had met his, Az knew he was in for a whole world of pain when Rhysand got his hands on him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
Az recently pulled away when he felt the anger of his high lord coming at him with the purpose of making him bow to the power radiating off of Rhysand. “We should probably get out of here before he kills you.” looking down he saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes and he positive nobody can pull off that look quite like you can. The wink you sent over your shoulder as you grab his hand pulls him out of the trance you had put him in. Willingly Azriel followed your lead out of the ball room while you bumped into his arm periodically. “Honestly he just might kill us both.” he felt you mumble into his shoulder as you hid your face and laughter in his body. Chuckling he couldn’t help but agree before winnowing you back to the house of wind. 
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After Rhyand had actually considered beating the shadowsinger to a pulp your usual antics had dwindled in frequency which saddened Azriel more than he was willing to admit. During training you kept clear of him in case your brother didn’t approve of you even looking in his general direction and it had been almost two weeks since he had last talked to you for more then five minutes and honestly it was starting to drive him crazy. After a family dinner consisting of you, Nesta, Cassiand and himself he finally approached you. “You're going to the Summer court tomorrow right?” As the resident know-it-all he already knew your answer but he waited nonetheless “Yes?” Azriel watches as you place your book in your lap to give him your full attention and he swears he could bask in it forever. “I’m not doing anything for the next week, would you like me to go with you?”  The beaming smile you sent him was confirmation enough. 
That's how he found himself in your room the next morning helping you get ready. You had asked his opinion on basically every piece of your outfit and Azriel had never been so happy to assist someone put together their clothes for the day. After you had pulled all the needed pieces of clothing from your closest you held up the corset you picked for him to see. “I’ll need your help putting this on.” And that's how once again Azriel feared Rhys would consider pummeling him once more. 
Not once during Rhysands withering glare did Azriel stop pulling the strings of your corset until they were tight enough and only then did he gently pull the strings into a bow before removing his hands from your body. After finishing his assigned task Az thought it was best to leave the siblings to deal with each other and he would wait for you on the rooftop to begin your journey to the summer court. Only after he could assume was a long lecture from your older brother on being safe did the two of you join him on the roof. “I swear if a single hair on her head is out of place I will kill you.”  As much as Azriel wanted to laugh at the worn out sound of his friend he simply nodded his head before acknowledging what he said. 
The week in the summer court with you felt more like two days. Any time with you never felt like enough. On the way back Rhysand had talked to him and you that he wanted a debrief before you did anything upon your return. Gently he set you back on the ground once he had landed in front of the river house and he already missed the feeling of your body on his. He really wished and in that moment that he never agreed to those rules Rhysand had set for him and Cassian all those hundred of years ago. 
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The silence that engulfed the room would make anyone who didn’t know the two males squirm from how uncomfortable it was, but these two males had dealt with much more stressful problems and had sat in more silence than the average people did. Azriel knew that lately your antic had been pushing the line but he had never stopped you nor had he ever thought too. Mainly because he didn’t want you too but also in fear that if he asked you to stop you would never come to him again. “Truly Rhys there is nothing going on between me and your sister. You and I both know she only does this to get under your skin and she does that very well. As long as it bothers you then she will keep doing it. You know this.” 
After a long and much needed talk Azriel made his way to the stand outside of the river house collecting a much needed breath of fresh air while he came to terms with his conversation with his oldest friend. A few moments pass before you come waltzing out of the house as if you had accomplished some great mission. “Maybe next time he’ll knock” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about and couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. He didn’t need to ask you what you did as the one shadow that always kept you company told him all about what you had just done to your brother and his poor unsuspecting mate. Without another word Azriel scooped you into his arm while pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Gods he wished this wouldn’t be the last time he felt your skin against his lips.
Rhysand had asked him to put a stop to your behavior towards him. Not that you made the shadowsinger uncomfortable, gods no, you could never do that. It was just you were your brother's pride and joy and he refused to let the males he considered his brothers to be the reason your heart broke. Rhysand would never be able to forgive or look at Azriel the same and he knew that. Azriel just wished the golden string tying the two of you together didn’t have to be hidden from everyone including you.
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Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains
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nocasdatsgay · 2 months
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Be Good
Pairing: Female Reader/Azriel/Eris | Rated: E🌶️
Neapolitan bonds Master post | Word Count: 2493|
Summary: Eris had an important meeting so he told you to listen to Azriel, but no sex. He didn’t say anything about the shadows having similar restrictions
Warnings: edging (female reader), daddy kink, light bdsm, mentions of rope and wax play, praise kink, mating bond three-ways. No use of y/n just second POV.
A/N: Eris=Daddy and Az=Sir. Reader=Princess, baby girl, my love. I also never claimed to be an expert in light bdsm. Idk what happened I wanted praise kink with Eris and Az and got this.
Read it here on ao3| Read below
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Eris said to do what Azriel said.
That’s how you ended up in your study, hands pinned to the desk by shadows. You sat on his lap with his hard cock pressed against your backside. He didn’t touch you; he wasn’t allowed to fuck you and you both knew if his hands met your bare skin you’d both be in trouble. But his shadows however weren’t under those constraints.
“Open up your bond to our mate, baby,” he whispered in your ear. The cool breeze of shadows slipped up your skirts.
“But he’s still in a meeting.”
“I know.” You could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “We’re just going to tease him. He’ll let you in.”
“But I’ll get in trouble.” You whimpered as those shadows swirled along your thighs.
“You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You have to listen to me. I won’t let you get in trouble.”
“You promise?”
You gasped as something cold- another shadow- slipped down the front of your dress.
“Have I ever lied to you baby girl?”
You twisted your shoulders around to look back at him with a skeptical look. He only chuckled at you. You normally kept your bond shut down during the day. Mostly because with two mates, nothing would get done if emotions were shared all the time. The three of you learned that after your frenzy. Azriel seemed to read your mind since your bond was wide open to him. You focused on opening the bond to Eris while he ran his hands down your sides.
“Remember the day when we accepted the bond?” Gods did you ever. His hands fisted the skirt of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly. “That night you took both of us so well.”
You remembered.
You’d winnowed to the cabin when the frenzy started. They both had their turns with you individually and with each other. But the bond was still squirming in your chest and you begged them both to take you at the same time. Eris was behind you and Az in front. You’d never been so full in your life. You’d never screamed so hard when all three of you came together, the bonds between you wide open and flooded with pleasure.
“We should do that again.” Azriel’s voice brought you back from the memory. “Take a week at the cabin. I want to work you open real slow.” His hands slipped over your dress and pulled your thighs apart without actually touching you. “I want to see you take us both in that pretty pussy of yours.”
“Az!”
You squirmed in his lap, both legs now draped over each side of his own. A shadow had slipped into your panties and ghosted along your clit. Another shadow was stroking along your breasts. Azriel’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. He brushed your hair side and nipped at your neck.
“Be good and Eris will come take care of you. Then next week, I get to play.”
“And do what?” you panted.
“First I’m going to fuck our mate so stupid, he’ll be calling me High Lord.”
“And me?”
By the Mother, the shadows were doing too good of a job teasing you. You couldn’t think about anything else but getting Azriel’s fingers into your cunt.
“I have ropes and a paddle waiting for you, princess.” You whimpered and wiggled your hips back against his cock. He growled into your ear and added. “Careful. You know what happens to brats when it’s my week.”
That brought a moment of clarity in the haze.
“Punish me then. I’ll just lick your wings until you beg.”
You yelled. Azriel was out of the chair and shadows were pulling you by your wrists down the desk so you bent over it. He didn’t take off your panties nor did he throw up your skirts. He kept you there for a moment not touching you. Then you felt him crowd around you, wings blocking the lights.
“Try that again.”
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. He hummed at that.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He whispered in your ear.
“I want your hands on me.” That shadow in your panties was rubbing your clit faster. Your breath quickened. “I want your fingers. I want them- I want them in me.”
“What else?” Az pulled back and spanked you. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you yelp and stand on your toes. “I thought you were my good girl.”
“I am!” Gods you were close.
“Then why are you being sassy?” He laughed but you didn’t think it was funny.
“I’m not!”
Your skin was on fire. You could smell the arousal coming off Az in waves, torturing you on top of what he was pushing down the bond. You flexed your hands and stood on your toes, wanting to fall off the edge. Then the shadow left. You sobbed out a whine, tears in your eyes.
“Sir, please.”
You slumped on the table. A low primal growl behind you made you shiver.
“There she is.” He crowded you again. Shadows were back on your thighs, the cool brush of them teasing you more. “Hi baby. Close your eyes and listen to me. Don’t speak unless I ask you too.”
You did as you were told. Hazy want settled over you and you wished he’d touch you.
“Good girl.” You whined and pushed your hips back but he wasn’t having it. He held your hips in place. “Don’t be greedy, Princess. Our mate isn’t here, remember.” You nodded. “I want you to think about the last time I really fucked you.”
Last week came to mind. He had you by the hair, fucking your mouth while tears streamed down your face. Or when he had you on the bed, arms tied and legs pressed back so he could get in as deep as he wanted.
“Send that down the bond.”
You were sure Eris already knew what you were thinking but you pushed it through anyway. You thought a hum of approval came back to you.
“Think about what our mate is going to do to you when he’s done with his meeting,” Az whispered. Warmth in your chest bloomed at the thought of Eris coming back. “I know for a fact he’s been wanting you all day.”
You bit your lip, flashes of Eris fluttered through your mind. Shadows were in your panties again. You kept your eyes closed even while you squirmed.
“I showed him how to tie the rope but he still needs practice. Do you want me to put you in the rope tonight, baby? I could tie you up like a present and leave you on the bed for him. You can answer.”
“Not allowed,” you shook your head.
Az hummed approval. “You listen to us so well.”
You nodded. You did listen. Eris said no sex and no rope. Not unless he was present. You weren’t sure if it was a test of your honor or a test of patience. Probably the latter.
“We will practice on you later.” He kept talking. “He can get out the safe candles. I want to see you squirm again.”
You squeezed your legs at the thought. You knew it was going down the bond but the images you weren’t sure if it was from yourself or one of them. Flashes of Eris dripping wax on you while Az had his head between your legs. The snug feeling of the soft rope on your skin. You were close again, pleasure building in your pelvis and thighs. The shadows left again and you wanted to cry.
“Az,” you couldn’t get out the rest, a smack on your ass taking your breath away.
“That’s not my name right now, princess.”
You pouted. “Sorry sir.”
“You’re forgiven, baby.”
Az kept you like that for what felt like hours. His shadows would tease and tease, getting you close and then stopping, denying you of release. You’d beg and plead but Az wouldn’t let you cum.
“You can’t cum without Eris here, baby,” Az would chuckle.
At one point you heard his leathers being undone. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs.
“Sir please. I want it. I need it. I’ve been a good girl.”
You fucking knew he was stroking himself. Your mouth watered at the thought. You wiggled your hips, pesky shadows damn near overstimulating you. Az was still laughing at you like he wasn’t the cause of your current duress.
“I know Princess. You’ve been the best girl. You have to be patient and wait for Eris.”
But you were done waiting. You needed Eris right then. You needed him so bad you were throbbing from it. If Az wouldn’t take care of you, Eris would. You tugged on the bond without thinking, sending all your want down it. Come get me please is what you sent. The bond tugged back twice. I’m coming for you. Your eyes fly open. Eris was coming.
Daddy was coming.
“Daddy’s coming,” you whisper out loud. You pull at your wrists but the shadows don’t budge. “Daddy is coming for me.”
“Okay Princess,” Az was running his hands through your hair, instantly calming you from the frenzy of the moment. “You’re going to sit down in this chair and act like nothing happened. Okay?”
“Yes sir,” you sighed.
Shadows enveloped you smelling like Az and that calmed you down a little. Wrist shadows let up and he guided you back into your chair before the shadows went back around your wrists.
“Don’t say anything. I want him surprised.”
You nodded and waited.
Not even a minute passed when the door to your chambers opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps echoed as they approached the study and you had the nerve to hold your breath, waiting. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when a warm hand dug into your hair and pulled your head back over the top of your chair.
You blinked and stared up at Eris. His short red hair was askew, like he’d been running his hands through it constantly. He was breathing heavily.
“My love,” he said, looking down at you. You squirmed in your seat at how blown his pupils were. “You knew I had an important meeting today. Explain to me why, for the last hour and a half, you’ve been sending very distracting things down our bond.”
A shadow tightened on your wrist. A warning. You looked up at him and pleaded with your eyes. Eris was smart; his gaze flickered to where your hands laid on the desk. His grip loosened.
“Azriel.”
Laughter filled the room and behind you, you knew Azriel had stepped out of the shadows where he was hiding. Eris still didn’t let go of your hair.
He looked back down to you. “Did Azriel make you tease me, princess?” You nodded. With a heavy sigh, he let you go.
“Azriel.” Eris’s voice was low, and even not addressing you, it went a shiver down your spine. “You almost got our girl in a lot of trouble.”
You could feel the heat off him, his anger mounting. The shadows holding down your wrists left you and you were free to turn in your seat. Another shiver ran through you. Both your mates were staring each other down. You looked at Eris.
“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” you said softly.
“Not with you, princess,” he didn’t look at you, but still glared at Azriel who was still chuckling to himself. “You think this is funny, Azriel.”
“Of course I do.” Azriel gave him that arrogant grin he always has when he was riling his mates up. “You shut me out. I knew you’d let our girl through the bond. I’d pay good money to have seen the look on Rhys’s face, you reek of arousal.”
“And this room reeks of sex,” Eris grumbled. He glared down at you and you shrunk in on yourself. “Did he fuck you while I was gone?”
“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “I was good. I was a good girl. I promise.”
“She was the best girl,” Azriel smiled at you proudly. “I edged her a few times. You didn’t bar me from using shadows. They helped paint the picture of what I wanted you to feel down the bond.”
Eris glowered at Azriel. “Of course you’d find a loophole.”
You bit your lip. “Am I in trouble Daddy?”
There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, like he just realized how deep in you were.
“No,” Eris took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I did tell you to listen to Azriel while I was busy.”
Az came over and stroked his fingers down your cheek. “See. You’re not in trouble. I wouldn’t let you be punished for following my instructions. You know that.”
You did but after playing with you all afternoon you were in a headspace and easily convinced otherwise. You looked up at Eris through your eyelashes.
“Is your meeting over?” You asked softly. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his pants.
“No, it’s not.”
“I’ll go,” Azriel said while he ran his fingers through your hair. You instantly relaxed at the touch. “It’s just Rhys.”
“And Tarquin. And Helion.”
Eris put his hands on his hips but you could stare at his crotch. Maybe you could convince him to use your mouth. You’d been so good for Az, you wanted to be good for Eris too.
“I can handle them while you take care of our girl.” Goosebumps crawled up your skin from his words and the way he played with your hair. “She’s been so good. She deserves it.”
“Good for you, maybe.” You whimpered and Eris looked down at you, a flash of regret on his face.
“I can be good for you too, I promise.” You whispered.
Eris sighed and looked at Azriel. “Go. But don’t think you aren’t getting punished later for making me look like a fool.”
“I look forward to it.” He leaned down by your ear and whispered, “Show our mate what a good girl you are.”
“Okay,” you nod.
Azriel hummed an acknowledgment and you looked to watch him disappear into the shadows. You didn’t have much time to react to Eris walking up and lifting you out the chair. He marched with you draped over his shoulder and laid you onto the bed.
“Daddy expects you on your best behavior.” You bit your lip while he stood by the bed and took off his jacket. “Is your bond to Azriel open?”
“Yes daddy.” Your eyes widened with want while you watched him work on his shirt next.
“Good. Take off that dress and let’s show our mate what it feels like to be toyed with.”
Sequel here: Now Behave
517 notes · View notes
sarahs-library · 4 months
Note
hi! i hope your having a good day 😊 you said you were taking requests so i have one if you dont mind! could you do something were az and reader are interrupted after they accept the bond by someone, maybe elain and she's upset and it causes issues? thanks!
Hey,
This is my first request so please be gentle with me if it isn't exactly what you were looking for. Also I'm sorry this sat in my inbox for so long, I wasn't sure exactly how to go about writing this one; I eventually decided on making it as dramatic as possible. 😅 So in true form, this is written mostly from our drama king Rhys' POV but there is some Reader POV fluff at the end. I wasn't sure where you stood with smut, so I've kept it relatively open to interpretation at the end.
Get Out!
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Maybe being so secretive about your relationship with Azriel wasn't the best idea after all.
Word count: 5,090
Rhys POV
Rhys adjusted his grip on the blade in his hand as it clashed with Cassian's, the keen of metal against metal filled the training room. Sweat burned his eyes as he heaved air into his lungs. Cassian's grin bordered on feral as they separated, circling each other. Rhys hadn't realised how long it had been since he'd trained properly, but he could feel it in the ache of his muscles.
"Fatherhood making you soft, Rhys?"
Rhys rolled his eyes, hoping that Cassian didn't notice he couldn't muster more of a response between gasped breaths and fending off his attacks. They'd been at it for hours. Cassian was right, in between High Lord duties and trying to spend every possible moment with his son, resolute on not missing a single milestone, Rhys had certainly neglected his training regime. And now his brother was making him pay for it.
A blade whistled dangerously close to his face. Rhys managed to bring his own up in time to stop the blow as the force of it reverberated down his arm. He ducked out of Cassian's reach, staying firmly on the defensive while his brother eyed him with mirth. Cassian made a show of surveying Rhys slowly as he began to advance again, eyes trailing down his body and settling for a moment on the tight muscles of his abdomen. He clucked his tongue in disapproval.
"Just because Feyre loves you, doesn't mean you can let yourself go so much." Rhys dodged as Cassian swung towards his side, levelling him with a strike of his own which was blocked with ease. Cassian smirked at him as their blades locked, Rhys bared his teeth in a snarl as he forced Cassian's blade back.
A gentle caress against the fortress of his mental shields stole his attention away from his brother for a moment. Cassian smacked the flat face of his sword against Rhys' thigh, a strike that would likely leave a nasty bruise. Rhys opened the antechamber in his mind, built like a house of worship over the foundations of his mating bond with Feyre. He managed to send a small, gentle caress in return before he was drawn back to avoiding Cassian's blade.
Rhys, where are you? There was an undercurrent of worry flowing down the bond to him. It took his attention immediately. He signalled to Cassian, lowering his blade and taking a deep breath.
Training with Cass at the House. What's wrong? He was already moving as he answered, racking the blunted practice sword and retrieving his shirt from where it had been tossed earlier in the session. Cassian mimicked his movements before heading to the pitcher of water to pour two glasses.
It's Elain, something's happened.
What?
She's inconsolable. She says...that Y/N attacked her.  Surprise sparked in Rhys.
Are you sure? It didn't make any sense. You were so gentle. A junior healer under Madja's tutelage, brought in to assist with Feyre's pregnancy. You'd been visiting the River House regularly to do milestone checks on Nyx. During that time, both he and Feyre had struck up a friendship with you. He'd never seen you so much as raise your voice.
It's all she's said to us, Nesta is furious. Rhys' eyes drifted to where Cassian stood, gulping down his glass of water.
"We're needed at the River House."
Cassian raised a brow at the seriousness of the tone as he moved across the training room towards his brother.
"What happened?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure. But we should get back before Nesta goes on the warpath." Cassian considered for a moment before taking to the skies, seemingly spurred by whatever he felt down his mating bond. Rhys launched himself after his brother before sending a reassuring message to his own mate.
We're on our way.
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Elain sat nestled next to Feyre on the sofa. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as her sister rubbed soothing circles on her back. Nesta was pacing in front of the fireplace, the swish of her dress and hard clack of her heels against the hardwood felt too loud in the otherwise silent room. Rhys stood for a moment in the doorway, assessing the scene in front of him as Cassian passed him to join Nesta. She ignored him, continuing to pace.
Rhys approached his mate and Elain, settling himself on the arm of the sofa at Feyre's side. He casts an assessing gaze over the middle Archeron sister. Her other arm, the one not wiping at her face, was laid in her lap as Feyre held a compress of ice over the wrist.
Rhys let out a low sigh, running his hands through his hair as he worked through possible avenues of action. He reopened his mental connection with Feyre.
Has she said anything else? Feyre turned away from her sister where she sat staring into space.
No, Madja's on her way though. It's strange, she said she hasn't seen Y/N in days, she was supposed to be visiting her family in the Day Court. None of this makes any sense, why would Y/N do this?
Unease sat heavily in Rhys' stomach. Could something have happened to you on your travels? He thought of Braillyn and the manipulation the crown had afforded her over the minds of others. The Dread Trove was safe, was this a different horror Koschei was responsible for? Was he trying to target his family through you? It would make sense, you visited the River House regularly and both he and Feyre had left Nyx unattended in your care on more than one occasion.
He felt Madja's approach as she let herself in, inclining her head towards himself and Feyre where they sat. She settled herself on Elain's other side, reaching for her arm. Feyre moved her hand and the compress away, revealing a slight bruising and swelling on the skin underneath.
"We need to find her, she can't just attack Elain like this." Nesta's voice cut sharp as a blade across the room, Elain's tears starting fresh at her words. Madja lifted her gaze from where she was assessing Elain's wrist, tilting her hand in gentle exercises to assess the range of movement.
"Perhaps you can continue this discussion outside?" Rhys caught the pointed look the healer gave him. He nodded, standing and placing his hand on the small of Feyre's back as she did the same. Nesta watched them for a moment before stomping towards the door; disappearing into the foyer.
Feyre shot him a look, grey-blue eyes filled with worry as they moved to follow her out. Nesta continued to pace outside the room as they shut the door, the low sound of Madja's soothing voice travelling through the wood.
"We have to do something."
"Nesta, we shouldn't do anything rash." Feyre's voice was firm as she addressed her, switching smoothly from comforting sister to High Lady of the Night Court. "Not until we have more information."
"Well she," Nesta gestured towards the closed door and her distressed sister, "isn't saying anything. So I say we find Y/N and get her to tell us what happened."
Rhys was inclined to agree, but held some reservations as to what exactly Nesta deemed an appropriate method of finding out information when it pertained to the middle Archeron sister.
"Feyre's right, we shouldn't be hasty about this." He met Nesta's eyes, filled with burning silver fire. "You're too close to this," he continued. "Why don't you go back to the House, blow off some steam and we'll discuss this later when we know the full story." Cassian moved closer to Nesta's side, a comforting hand on her arm as she stared Rhys down. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. Rhys recognised the mind-stilling technique she favoured to keep her grounded.
Her eyes were still bright with anger when she opened them again, but she seemed calmer than she had been before. She gave a small nod. Cassian tucked her under an arm as they made their way to the front door.
"We'll send for you when we know something." Cassian nodded to Rhys over his shoulder but Nesta didn't turn back to look at either of them. The door closed with a thud behind them.
Feyre looked at where her sister and brother-in-law stood a moment before. She turned, making her way down the hall Rhys study.
"What do you think we should do?"
"I'll search the city for her, we could send a note? Ask her to meet us both?" Feyre nodded in agreement.
"We should make contact with Az." Rhys considered, reluctant to disturb his brother when he'd asked for a rare week off to visit his mother in Illyria. The request had been sudden and abrupt. Az had sent word close to midnight a few days prior. He hadn't written much, other than he needed some time away from his duties and that he'd reach out to Rhys later on in the week. He had been concerned at the out of character behaviour, apprehensive that something serious must have happened. Azriel had evaded requests for more information; saying that he'd brief Rhys on his return.
"When we know more," he paused with Feyre on the threshold of the study. "I don't want to call him back when it may turn out to be nothing serious."
Feyre hummed in agreement.
"I just...I don't understand, why would she do something like this? We gave her access to our son, Rhys. She didn't seem..." Feyre trailed off. Before she could continue the sound of a throat clearing came from the kitchen door. They turned in tandem, both sets of eyes fixed on the twins that appeared out of the shadows there.
"We...We think this may be our fault." Nuala's voice was quiet as she spoke for both of them, hands clasped together tightly as they stood before their High Lord and Lady.
"How could this possibly be your fault?" Feyre didn't hide the surprise in her tone. Their dark eyes were unreadable but Rhys didn't miss the glance they both gave towards the closed door where Elain still sat with Madja.
He opened the door to the office, gesturing in invitation to the twins to follow Feyre and him in.
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Rhys sat in the high-backed chair behind the desk, Feyre perched on his lap as they listened to Nuala and Cerridwen's tale.
"Azriel instructed us not to tell anyone where he was when he sent word. She saw us putting together a basket, asked us who it was for. We didn't see any harm in telling her we were making it for him," Cerridwen's face was grave as she spoke. "Elain wanted to help, so we baked the bread together. She went to the garden after that, and Nuala left to deliver it."
"I know she didn't follow," Nuala cut in, her voice shaking. "I would have noticed if she had."
"Perhaps she saw where you went in one of her visions?" Feyre supplied. She bestowed her a small comforting smile, Rhys could feel her sympathy for the twins through the bond. They cared about Elain; even without his daemati powers you could read the guilt they shared.
"But it was here? In Velaris?" Rhys asked. Nuala looked at her twin, a silent conversation happening between them, before she nodded her head. Rhys' stomach turned to lead. Azriel had lied to him about where he was. Rhys knew that Azriel had his secrets, maybe more than anyone else in the Inner Circle. But he'd never known him to be overtly dishonest, not with his family.
"What happened after that?" Feyre's voice was gentle as she pushed for more information.
None of this makes any sense.
I know. Feyre squeezed his hand, the one that she had clasped between both of her own beneath the desk, as she sent reassuring waves down the bond.
"We were both preparing lunch after that. We didn't see her again, until you did." Feyre had shown him the memory as he'd flown towards the house. Elain bursting through the front door, arm clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her face. She hadn't said anything as Nesta had taken her into her arms, demanding to know what had happened.
"Would it be possible that Elain met Y/N on the way to...where Azriel is?" Feyre addressed the question to the room but it was Cerridwen that answered her.
"I don't think so, my lady. It's...out of the way, you wouldn't stumble upon it by accident." Rhys didn't miss the look Nuala sent her, dark eyes on fire. Cerridwen sunk back into her chair, realising that perhaps she'd said too much. Rhys pressed though, he couldn't leave it.
"So that would mean that either Y/N followed Elain from the house on purpose or she was there? With Azriel?"He suspected it was the latter, and the twins certainly knew more about it than they were willing to share. They both looked down, pointedly avoiding Rhys' gaze.
"We promised, my lord."
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"We could do it together if you want?" Feyre's hand toyed at his neck, tracing the Illyrian tattoos etched into the skin. They'd dismissed Nuala and Cerridwen back to their duties while they discussed the next step to take. They had both agreed that reaching out to Azriel was the best course of action, to follow the lead of his potential involvement before they took any further steps concerning you.
Rhys was torn. He wanted Feyre to be involved, but it felt too personal. Azriel hadn't lied to her. But he had to him, his brother, his High Lord. Azriel, whom he had always trusted. Feyre would moderate his temper, if the need arose, but a dark volatile part of him didn't want that.
A quiet knock sounded on the door. Feyre called out for Madja to enter, already sensing her standing on the other side. Her smile was reassuring as she moved to stand in front of them at the desk.
"A nasty sprain, but no broken bones." Some of the tension seemed to leave Feyre's shoulders as she let out a relieved sigh. "I've recommended she rest it, keep it elevated," Madja continued, "it should be back to normal within a few days."
"Thank you Madja, we appreciate you coming out of you way." Feyre's tone was warm as she spoke to the elderly fae.
"It's my pleasure, my lady."
"Did Elain say anything to you? About what happened?"
Madja frowned, before shaking her head. "Nothing that made much sense. She mentioned a door and being pushed, she didn't say any more than that." Madja took a step closer to the desk, worrying the fabric of the apron she wore between her fingers.
"If I may..." She paused, waiting for further invitation to speak. Rhys gestured with a hand for her to continue.
"I've known Y/N since she was a girl," Madja's voice wavered as she spoke, in all the years Rhys had known her he'd never seen her close to tears before. "She wouldn't do something like this it's not in her nature," Madja paused before quickly adding, "not to discredit your sister, High Lady." Rhys watched Feyre as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she listened to the healer.
"This situation is highly unusual, Madja. We need to speak to the parties involved, gather more information." Rhys speech was clinical, playing High Lord rather than concerned brother-in-law.
"I'll take my leave then."
I should see to Elain. Feyre slipped off his lap with a parting brush of her lips against his cheek before following Madja out of the room. Rhys rested his elbows on the desk in front of him and lowered his head into his hands.
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After taking a few minutes to collect himself Rhys began using his power to comb through the city, brushing past the minds of his citizens as they went about their daily lives. It took longer than he thought, identifying the distinct signature of his brother, as recognisable to him as his own after 500 years. Cloistered on the outskirts of the city, the surrounding land reserved for farming crops with very few residences. He felt another presence there, one less familiar to him, yours.
Rhys brushed a talon against Azriel's mental shields, a teeming cluster of darkness not unlike the shadows he wielded, and waited. The tick of the clock as the seconds passed by had Rhys on edge, he was considering pushing again, this time more firmly, when the shadows created a small opening just big enough for him to slip through.
Rhys didn't bother with a greeting. His mental voice was harsh, more than he meant it to be, as it reverberated around the dark antechamber.
You have ten seconds to explain why you are not in Illyria, and why my mate is consoling her injured sister before I come and find you, and we have this conversation in person. Conversation was a very polite term to use for what would inevitably become a battle of wills, and potentially blades, between the High Lord and his Spymaster.
Don't you fucking dare, Rhys. Azriel's voice was ice. The hostile rage that bubbled underneath shook Rhys out of his own for a moment. It was like its own living thing, driven by base instincts to defend against a threat at all costs. The force of it almost pushed him out. Rhys bridled his own surprise and rage down.
Okay, Rhys' voice was soothing, carried on a night-kissed wind. I won't do that Az, but you need to talk to me.
The storm of Azriel's emotions seemed to calm a little, Rhys could feel the effort he was putting in, wrestling for control that was usually so militant. He waited for his brother to speak for a few moments before continuing.
Why don't you start with where you are, and why Nuala and Cerridwen are involved?
He thought that Azriel was going to hold fast in his reticence. Instead his voice, missing some of the frigid quality it had before, answered after a few beats.
I own a property on the outskirts of the city, I've been here since I sent word asking for leave. Azriel paused before continuing, Nuala and Cerridwen were just doing what I asked, they don't need to be a part of this. Rhys should have expected this. Azriel always knew how to toe the line between answering what was asked without giving any substantial information.
And what is it that you asked them to do for you? Because they wouldn't tell us, because of some promise they made to you.
They delivered some supplies to me.
Supplies?
Food and other basic necessities.
And is there a reason you couldn't retrieve these for yourself? Why you're sequestered away in some property we're unaware of with one of our healers? Rhys tried to press against the walls of Azriel's mind to see what else he could feel or sense but it yielded nothing. Are you injured Az? Worry bloomed. As out of character as it was for Azriel to lie to his family, if it was because he was injured and didn't want any of them to know, to worry, Rhys could rationalise that.
No. Rhys could feel Azriel's attention, drawn away to whatever was going in outside his mind, still only half maintaining their communication. Is Elain okay?
Are you talking to Y/N? I know she's there with you.
Azriel hesitated before answering. Yes.
Elain is saying that Y/N attacked her, is that true? Did you see what happened?
I did, but it was an accident Rhys. She didn't mean to.
She says she was pushed. I'm not sure how that can be considered an accident, Azriel. Rhys tried to keep a handle on his agitation, but this conversation was going nowhere quickly. Why don't you show me what happened, then we can put this whole thing to bed.
A tidal wave rose, angry and biting as it chased Rhys towards the gap in the barrier he entered from. Rhys retreated back from it, shocked by it's sudden appearance.
No. Azriel's snarled response rebounded around his head.
Fine, I'll take it up with Y/N if this is how you're going to act.
Wait, don't. The emotion receded as quickly as it came, leaving Rhys toeing the edge of the empty chamber. Leave her out of this Rhys, it's my fault.
Oh? She's assaulted a member of our Court, Azriel.
She's my mate, Rhys. Rhys thought for a moment that he hadn't heard him correctly. But it made sense, the instinctual frenzy of emotion that seemed eager to slip his brother's control. We didn't tell you in the beginning, we wanted to get to know each other without any added...pressure.
Az, this is wonderful news...unexpected but wonderful. But we wouldn't have pressured you, either of you, into anything.
I know, I just...I was being selfish, Rhys. And we were so caught up in each other. I said I'd talk to you when I got back, I was going to tell you then. Rhys didn't hide the happiness he felt, letting his brother feel it freely, It was a bit spur of the moment, deciding to accept the bond. That's why I asked Nuala and Cerridwen for help, they knew where we were.
I'm happy for you, Az. Rhys allowed himself to bask for a moment in the joy that he could feel from his brother as he spoke about you. A part of him wanted to leave then, to retreat from his brother's mind and leave him to enjoy this special, if volatile time, as a newly mated male. But there was still a piece of this puzzle missing. What happened with Elain?
It is my fault Rhys, I should have sensed her coming. But we were preoccupied. Azriel's discomfort put Rhys own teeth on edge as he continued. We were in the living room and Elain opened the door, Y/N panicked and slammed it with gust of wind.
Panicked?
We were...indisposed.
You're joking, Rhys barely managed to choke the words out as he tried to contain his laughter.
Its not funny, Rhysand. He could almost see his brother grinding his teeth in agitation. By the time we made ourselves decent, Elain had already left. I was going to come to the house to see if she was okay, but Y/N is really upset that she may have hurt her. Rhys understood what he didn't say, that he couldn't leave his mate like that.
Tell her it's just a sprain, nothing serious.
That's a relief. If we're done here- Rhy's didn't allow Azriel to finish, already taking his leave.
Rhys watched the sun set set over the Sidra as he ruminated on the strange events the day had taken, and how he was going to defuse the tension from this morning before Azriel returned, likely with Y/N in tow.
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Your POV
Steam curled into the air from the water of the bath. The heat soothed the ache in your muscles, ones that you didn't even know you had were making their displeasure known, as you adjusted your position to lean back against Azriel. His arm slipped around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest as scarred fingers traced circles over your midriff. You sighed in contentment as Azriel continued his ministrations, feeling his smile against the skin of you neck. He brushed the sensitive skin with a delicate kiss. Neither of you spoke as you sat there, enjoying the comfortable silence and basking in the feeling of the new golden thread that tied you together.
Azriel reached to the edge of the tub where the basket of toiletries lay, filled with your favourite scents curtesy of the shadow wraith twins, and grabbed a soft cloth and a bar of sweet smelling soap. You groaned as he began to gently massage the lather on the cloth into the skin of arms and shoulders, adjusting slightly to give him better access. You turned your head, resting it in the cradle of Azriel's shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.
Over the few months that you'd known him, you'd come to admire his stoic beauty. Rich hazel eyes framed by thick lashes and dark brows. His sharp features and full lips that erupted butterflies in your stomach every time he gifted you with an alluring smile or tantalising smirk. As your relationship had progressed he'd become more open is displaying his emotions with you, less prone to cloaking himself in his shadows. But you'd never in that time seen such open contentment displayed on his features.
You watched as his eyes tracked the path his hand drew with the cloth against your body. You brought a hand out of the warm cocoon of the water to trace the map of markings across his shoulders, following the trail up his neck with tender kisses. Azriel's chest rumbled his approval. The flare of his wings sent ripples across the surface of the bath as you let a soft breath out against the delicate shell of his ear.
"It appears my little mate is rather insatiable." Azriel sighed, feigning exasperation as he moved the cloth lower, down off your shoulders to brush the top of your breasts.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." The hand on his shoulder reached to brush a single fingertip against the sensitive membrane of a wing as you smirked into his neck.
"Careful." Azriel growled, taking the circles he was tracing on your midriff dangerously lower. Even though the past few days had been filled with nothing but Azriel, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your tongue, there was a burning pit of desire that demanded more. You felt as though you could live a thousand more years and never tire of the feeling of him holding you in his arms. The thought of leaving the little bubble of bliss you'd created here was like a cold water shock. Thinking of the potential repercussions you'd face of what happened earlier left the sting of bile in the back of your mouth.
Azriel's hands stilled as he sensed the shift in your mood. You buried your face into his neck, closing your eyes and letting his scent calm your racing heart. Azriel abandoned the cloth to place his hand on the back of you head, carting his fingers through your hair. He made a low soothing noise.
"It's okay," he continued to massage his fingers against your scalp as he spoke. "It was an accident, no one is going to blame you."
"Elain will, she probably hates me." Your voice broke as you tried to hold back the guilt that had been plaguing you, such a start contrast to the joy and ravenous hunger.
"She'll understand. The others will too, Rhys actually found it very amusing."
"Oh cauldron boil me." You could imagine it now, the smirking good natured jibes from the high-lord and the likely even less subtle innuendos his general would deal out to you.
"Come on," the fingers dancing through your hair stopped. "Look at me." Part of you wanted to continue to hide as the anxiety and embarrassment coiled inside of you, but as Azriel moved to cup your cheek you lifted your face away to look at him. His eyes were soft as he took in your face, so close that you could see flecks of green and gold constellating around the iris. His thumb rubbed gently against you cheek.
"I just want to stay here for the rest of our lives." Azriel smiled gently and hummed his agreement, leaning forward to press his lips against the skin of your forehead.
"Unfortunately, I think we'll be missed." He considered for a moment before adding. "And I wouldn't put it past Cassian to break down the door and drag me back to civilised society." You loosed a small smile at his attempt to make light of the situation, but it still did nothing to quell the apprehension and doubts.
You'd so desperately wanted to make a good impression. It had all been planned out. After the week was done; once you and Azriel had returned to your normal lives, he would have announced the mating bond to his family. You'd planned to host a dinner, let them get to know you outside your capacity as a healer. Hoped to create the foundations for meaningful relationships. Instead, you'd ruined it before you'd even started, injuring the High Lady's sister and forcing Azriel to do damage control on your behalf.
"I'm just...I'm sorry Az, I know how important your family is to you. I can't believe I've screwed this up."
"They are important to me." He agreed, thumb stroking gently against your face. "But so are you. I've waited centuries to find you, and you're so much more than I dreamed you'd be." Tears welled in your eyes at his declaration. "I love you, and I know my family will love you too." You reached up to capture his lips in a delicate kiss, despite the gravity of the situation feeling his lips quirk into a smile against your own made your heart sing. You parted, and he began to trail kisses across your cheek.
"Rhys and Feyre already like you, they trust you with Nyx. Everyone else will fall victim to your charming smile and witty sense of humour, I'm sure." He murmured in your ear as he traced his nose against the soft skin of your neck.
"We'll face them together when the time comes." He whispered the promise into your skin as he paved a line of tender kisses to a particularly sensitive spot he'd discovered in the last few days, taking extra care to pay it the most attention.
You sighed and arched your back, allowing him greater access to your neck and chest. Azriel's affirmations had quelled the storm within you, leaving heat and hunger in the wake of his lips.
"But, we've got a few days before anyone is expecting us back. And I have plans for you." Azriel's voice turned husky at the end, the heady promise made your toes curl as you pressed yourself closer against him.
"Oh?" You breathed as his lips began to chart a course across your chest, skimming across the tops of your breasts. You felt more than heard as he hummed an affirmation against the delicate skin. "And what would those plans be?"
Azriel's wings flared as your hand found his hair, winding the strands between your fingers. He stopped lathing delicate kisses against your skin to look up at you through dark lashes, eyes light and mischievous. His grin was positively wicked, canines flashing in the light.
"Why don't I show you."
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azrielsdove · 5 months
Text
Cold Hearts Pt. 3
Warnings: Slight angst, suggestiveness, vulnerability
Pt. 2 Here
***
Azriel couldn’t sleep. He went to her room after their argument, stopping himself from knocking when he heard the sounds of her crying. Oh, he had made such a mess. Did the bond snap for her too? Was she crying because she was fated to someone who had been so mean to her?
No, Azriel. Stop that. He chided himself, remembering her words in the library. “Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you?” Maybe he was. Although, she didn’t give him much reason to think her actions weren’t aimed at him. It wasn’t his fault that she never talked to anyone. He groaned, trying to banish that thought from his mind. He needed to stop blaming her for all of this. He had allowed his own feelings to cloud his judgment, never once stopping to think if there was some other reason why she may act so cold.
Azriel looked at his hands, at the scars tracing the skin. Why had she always stared at them in such a disgusted way? He couldn’t figure that one out. He was confused. Painfully confused. His mind ached with the thoughts running through it, wishing he could just forget everything. He couldn’t figure this out on his own.
He had to find Rhysand.
***
Rhys was not pleased when he opened his door in the dead of night to the Shadowsinger. Though the sleep disappeared from his eyes the second he took in the expression on Azriels face. “What has happened?” He demanded, body tensing as he prepared for the worst.
Azriel simply shook his head, suddenly unsure of what to say. “I-“ He started, “I don’t, I don’t actually know what happened.” He felt ashamed, not ready to admit how he’s been acting unfairly for all these years. Her name fell from his mouth, a quiet plea. “I need to know her story.”
Rhysands lips thinned. “That is not mine to share, Azriel.” He sighed at the distraught look on his friends face, running a hand through his hair. “You have to ask her yourself. She hasn’t even talked about it with me in all this time, and I was the one who found her.” Azriel ducked his head, more guilt piling on top of his shoulders. How bad must it have been for her to not be able to talk about it a hundred years later? Rhys clapped a hand on Azriels shoulder, trying to comfort his friend. “She’s not who she pretends to be. Give her a chance, Az. Let her come to you.” Azriel nodded, thanking him before heading back home.
Let her come to you.
***
READER POV
You woke up before the sun, laying awake in your bed as you planned what you were going to say to Azriel. You never spoke about what happened to you, but you knew you had to at least give him some of the story so he could understand. Understand that it wasn’t his scars that upset you, but your own. That he had never wronged you, it is your mind that’s the curse.
You were scared.
You didn’t know how he would react. You never expected that Azriel would be the one you ended up opening up to. You hardly knew him. Maybe that was better. Or was it worse? You groaned and covered your eyes with your hands, wishing you could make your thoughts make sense. How were you supposed to get through a conversation if you couldn’t even think straight?
You pulled yourself out of bed as the sun began to shine over the horizon, dressing to go find Azriel. You knew he tends to rise early, getting early training sessions in before breakfast. That would be where you looked for him first, then.
You took a deep breath and headed to the training ring.
***
You half expected him to not be there. You weren’t sure if you were happy or disappointed to see him when you entered the ring. You paused in the doorway, slightly hidden from his sight. You watched as he practiced, the way his body moved was almost an art. You had never really looked at the Shadowsinger, always too wrapped up in your own head. You felt your heart quicken while you watched, observing the beauty of him in the early morning sun. You watched as he moved, the muscles rippling on his arms, his wings flaring out slightly. His wings. You felt a sharp pain in your heart, seeing the sun shine through them. You felt the ache of where yours used to be, just as beautiful as his.
You had to make your move now or you were going to talk yourself out of it. You stepped forward, giving a little cough to signal your arrival. Azriel halted, spinning towards you like he’d seen a ghost. He said your name like a question, blankly staring at you. You bowed your head, kicking the sand with your foot. Now that you were here you didn’t know how to start.
You swallowed and looked back up to him. “You’re really good at that.” You blurted out, embarrassment instantly coloring your cheeks. “I mean, I knew you were good. I’d just never watched you like that, moving so freely.” His eyes widened slightly as he looked you over, saying nothing. “N-not that I was like, standing here for long. I just wanted to come talk to you, after last night, and I saw you and I didn’t want to interrupt.” You silently cursed. You were rambling. You needed to get it together. You opened your mouth to speak again before shutting it quickly, leaving room for him to respond.
Azriel looked into your eyes, an interesting expression on his face. “Uh, thank you.” He spoke politely, seemingly unsure of how to talk to you. That made the guilt even worse. You looked down again, staring at the ground like you were hoping it would open up and swallow you. You jumped a little as Azriel started speaking again; “I’m sorry, for what I said. It wasn’t fair of me to lash out at you like that.” You looked up in shock, not really expecting him to apologize.
“No, i’m sorry. I see now how my actions made you think I was being unnecessarily cruel. The truth is, I-“, You stopped. You couldn’t do this. You felt your throat closing up, the panic threatening to overtake your body. Azriel seemed to sense it too, stepping close to you.
“Hey, hey, you don’t owe me any explanation. I was only thinking about myself, you were right.” You could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, comfort you. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to or not.
You took a breath, clearing your mind. “Azriel,” you started, forcing calm through your body, “I have scars of my own. Like yours.” You looked into his eyes, gauging his reaction.
He nodded, hands fidgeting at his side. “I see.” He said quietly, gaze flitting over your body. “Where at?” The question was barely a whisper, and you almost pretended you didn’t hear.
But that would not be beneficial to anyone.
“Here.” You said softly, turning your back to him and beginning to raise your shirt.
“You don’t have to show me.” He spoke quickly, hands covering yours, stilling their movements. You sucked in a surprised breath at the contact, mind going temporarily blank.
“It’s okay. I want you to see.” You finally said, pulling your hands out from under his. “You can lift it the rest of the way.”
You shivered as the morning breeze ran over your newly exposed skin, his hands raising the back of your shirt up slowly. You heard the sharp intake of air as he saw the jarring, burnt stumps where your wings used to be. All was quiet for a moment, Azriel taking in the damage in front of him.
“Who did this to you?” His voice was harsh, anger dripping from every word. You were mortified at the fire that ran under your skin at his tone. You pulled away to look at him, taking in his darkened eyes.
“They were dealt with.” Was all you said, not sure how much you were ready to reveal. Azriel could sense your hesitation, giving a curt nod.
“By Rhysand?” He asked.
“Yes.” You whispered.
“Good. I know he didn’t make it pleasant for them.” His eyes were a raging fire.
“It was my father.” You suddenly said, not even realizing you had decided to tell him. “And my soon-to-be-husband.”
If you thought you had seen anger on Azriels face before, you were wrong. Pure rage ran over him, every muscle in his body tensing. You took a small step back in fear, having never seen him like this. “Azriel?” You whispered out, trying to bring him back down.
“Let me see them again.” He commanded, turning you around. You allowed him to lift your shirt again, shuddering when one of his hands lightly traced the scars on your back. “Is this okay?” He whispered, breath fanning over your ear.
You could only nod, unable to handle all the different emotions coursing through you.
Azriels hand traced your scars for what felt like forever, but was probably only a minute. When he was done he pressed both of his hands to your back, letting your shirt fall over all the scars between the two of you. Your skin was tingling at the contact, a part of you never wanting this to end. You didn’t realize that you were sinking back into Azriels touch until his hands slid down and around to your waist, your back hitting his chest.
You jumped away from him, every inch of you buzzing from his hands. What was wrong with you?
You turned to face him, not wanting him to think you were upset. “Sorry I, it’s been- it’s been a long time since anyone has, since I have, I haven’t-“ You stuttered out, your words jumbling together and making no sense. You slid your hands down the front of your shirt, trying to soothe your racing heart. “That’s all to say, uh, I haven’t had much physical contact in a, a long time.” You pushed a piece of your hair out of your face, trying to read Azriel. “Not that, not that I didn’t like it, I just, it’s been…a while.” You wanted to melt into the ground. You were making it so much worse.
He laughed. A warm, welcoming sound. You couldn’t help but smile as he did, feeling warm all the way to the tips of your toes. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone turning serious. “I shouldn’t have kept going, you just seemed so calm and I didn’t want that feeling to fade.”
Oh. Oh. A wave of emotion crashed into you at his words, your vision growing blurry. He cared about you. Somehow, after the way you’ve acted towards him for so long, he cared.
Azriel was too good.
You had to say something, needing to break the silence that was now growing. “The children,” you began, “You saw me teaching them.” He nodded, signaling you to continue. “After all that happened, Amarantha, the attack on Velaris, Hybern, I wanted to make sure our youngest could protect themselves. Training had made me feel strong, before…” you trailed off, gesturing to your back. Azriels eyes grew sharp for a moment, understanding what you meant. “Anyway, I asked Rhys if I could train them. I figured I wasn’t doing much else, and I know enough from you and Cassian that I could teach them basic maneuvers. I love children, I used to dream of having my own with Ga-“ You stopped yourself, horror flooding through your bones. You hadn’t said his name since he heartlessly sliced your wings off.
Azriel noticed the fear start to take over, gently reaching out and grabbing your hands between his. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” He said softly, running his thumbs soothingly over your skin.
“Yea, yea I know.” You mumbled, looking at your hands in his. You cleared your throat, connecting your eyes back with his. “I wanted them to feel safe. That they can protect themselves. It gives me a small piece of hope, that even if something happened they could defend themselves through it.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek, not realizing you had started crying. You pulled one hand from Azriels, wiping it away.
“That is a selfless thing you are doing, training them. I wish one of us had thought of that long ago.” He said, squeezing your remaining hand. You smiled softly at him, not trusting yourself to speak again.
***
It had been a few weeks since your talk with Azriel, something changing between you that day. You now stood with him in front of your students, their little faces lit up with excitement. You had promised to bring the Shadowsinger to them, and their excitement at having a “real warrior” was almost overpowering. You weren’t sure he was going to say yes when you asked, knowing he tends to stay on the quiet side. You almost kissed him when he agreed right away.
Almost.
You couldn’t deny the feelings in your heart as you grew closer to him. They scared you as much as they excited you. You never thought you would feel this way about anyone ever again, especially with the dark shadow of what happened the last time you felt this way looming over you.
Azriel was different, you kept telling yourself. He would never be as evil as Gannon had been. Azriel was a better soul, a soul who knew the pain you’d gone through all too well. You looked up at him, smiling at the nervous look on his face.
“Take it away, Shadowsinger.”
***
The class had been an incredible success. The children loved Azriel, and he seemed to enjoy them just as much. He was able to teach them some defense tricks you hadn’t known, smiling broadly as the littlest of the group caught on the quickest. You were so proud of your students, so inspired by their drive to learn.
Watching one of the little girls run up to him at the end of class and wrap her arms around his legs did something irreparable to your heart. Azriel bent down, scooping her into his arms. “You did amazing, little warrior.” He said, her smile so bright it could contend with the sun. You walked over and pulled the girl out of his arms, giving her a hug of your own before setting her down. “Go on, now. Your mother is waiting at the door.” You watched as she ran to her mother, sending the female a smile as she collected her daughter.
Once everyone had cleared out you began closing all the windows and locking up for the afternoon. You finished pulling the last curtain down, heading over to make sure all the paperwork was done at your desk. You checked to make sure there weren’t any new students joining the next class, marking down those who came today. You were so engrossed in your work you didn’t notice Azriel come stand behind you until you finished and turned, slamming right into his chest. His hands went to your hips to stabilize you, laughing. You tried and failed to glare up at him, a loud laugh coming from you a second later.
When the laughter subsided you looked up at him. His hands hadn’t moved from your hips, and yours hadn’t moved from his chest. “You did great with them,” you said, cutting the tension. Azriel smiled, a hand coming to brush your hair behind your ear.
“They were easy. Their teacher must be an angel.” His words were heavy, his eyes distracted. His hand cupped the side of your face, angling your head up to him.
Your heart was going to beat out of your chest.
For a long few seconds the two of you stood there, daring the other to make the first move. Your resolves broke at the same time, surging forward to join in a heated, desperate kiss. He lifted you up onto the desk behind you, the hand on your hip dropping to grip your thigh as he stepped between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You needed him as close as possible, your body was calling to his. You felt like your heart was pulling him in, a golden string almost tying you to him. You saw it in your mind as he kissed you, feeling that string tighten in your chest.
No, not a string.
A bond.
You gasped, pulling away from the kiss. You were rendered speechless as the bond snapped for you, your eyes wide with shock. Azriel looked panicked for a moment, looking at you with concern. “Are you okay? Was it too much, I understand if you’d-“ You cut him off with another kiss.
“Mate.” You whispered against his lips, his body stilling under your touch. Oh gods, did he not know? Did he not want the bond? Did you just fuck it all-
All thoughts were interrupted by Azriels mouth pressed hot against yours. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it.” He growled into your skin, biting your bottom lip. You moaned at his touch, at his kiss, at your mate. The one thing you were convinced you would never find. He’d been right in front of your eyes all this time, both of you too wrapped up in yourselves to truly see each other.
You tightened your hold around Azriel, one of your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned into your mouth at your touch, a sly smile on your face. You felt whole as his hand slid under your shirt and up your back. You didn’t flinch when his scars touched yours, embracing the vulnerability you shared. The scars that had haunted you now a connection to the one who was made for you.
For the first time in your life, you felt truly safe.
***
I hope this ending was satisfying for you all!! I am blown away by the amount of support on this mini series. I really enjoyed writing it, challenging myself to bring hard emotions into it. Please let me know what you think of this ending, I can’t tell how I feel about it! I rewrote it several times, I couldn’t figure out which direction I wanted it to go. I appreciate and love ALL of your comments on this, and I hope you come back to read some of my other works too <3
954 notes · View notes
tadpolesonalgae · 6 months
Text
Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 9
Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!reader
A/N: Giving something new a try here, absolutely terrifying
Warnings: different povs, (Smidge of angst…I think…?)
Word Count: 5,707
-Part 8- -Part 10-
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Silver eyes cut to cocoa. “Why not?”
Elain sighs, attention flicking away to the bookcases lining the walls of their home. Nesta had been the main designer, though bits and pieces are still missing—like the fireplace that will be put into the living room while they’re away, specially designed to contain the crackle and pop of logs as they burst upon the fire. Sure, she could have chosen to have a spell wrap it all up, but she enjoys having time away from magic. That small thread leading back to her old life.
“So many reasons,” she answers quietly, scanning the titles. Fatigue laces her shoulders, hands tucking into her lap, playing with the lilac fabric. “She’s just not… She’s not interested, Nesta.” The sharp eyed female sits in silence, staring blankly into the middle distance. Nails press into the arms of the cushioned chair, spine straightening. “She needs help. You heard her argument with Feyre— Has she at least spoken to you about it?”
Elain sighs again, shaking her head, leaning back into the seat. “No. And I’m not asking.”
Nesta studies Elain from across the room, the light half-circles beneath her eyes. She knows how Eris has been visiting the trio in the lower lands—how it strains on her mate, passing onto her. Part of her doesn’t want to push Elain further, noting the distance in her normally bright eyes, but she remembers her own silence. The pressure building in her head, on the cusp of shattering. What a mess she’d been.
“You’re the only one she talks to, Elain,” she says, hands lowering to her lap. “You saw how she shut us out over dinner. If anyone can revive her, it’s going to be you.”
“I know,” she snaps abruptly, eyes cracking open. Shifts in her seat, sitting upright, brining her feet up onto the cushions, tucking up neatly. Exhales heavily. “I know,” she repeats, softer this time, “but I’ve been trying, and she just doesn’t want to do anything. Pushing her won’t work, she’ll just retreat further.”
The two sit in silence, sun streaming in through the large windows, pooling in a golden square of heat upon the carpet. Outside, the roses sway in the breeze, climbing up the sides of the paprika-red bricks.
“And what about Bas?” Nesta asks, quietly.
“What about him?” She answers, still peering up at the bookcase. How many have already been read? “She’s close with him,” Nesta says, “maybe she’s said something to him.”
“How would you have felt if Amren spoke to us?” She asks pointedly, but quietly. “I’ve wanted to ask—either of them—but that’s not the right way to do this. She already keeps her distance from you. Trying to find an in through Bas would just push her further,” Elain argues. “Plus it’s an invasion of privacy,” she murmurs, an afterthought.
“Then what do you suggest,” Nesta asks, silver eyes piercing. “That we just let things continue? She already practically estranged from us.”
“She needs time,” Elain says quietly. “Just give her space. That’s all she wants at the moment.”
“That’s all we’ve been doing, and it’s not working. She hardly even comes to dinners anymore. The last time I saw her was over a months ago—a month,” Nesta mutters softly. Brows pull together, conflict marring her sharp features. “Az says she barely leaves her room up in the House.”
“But that’s where she wants to be, Nesta.”
The silver eyed female shakes her head. “I wanted to be left alone too,” she murmurs, hands tightening. “Maybe she likes being alone up there, but it’s not good. And don’t say she can manage on her own—I know you heard her argument with Feyre.” Nesta shifts in her seat, eyes lowering to the pool of sunshine on the carpet, splitting them apart. “That’s not dealing with anything. She’s just pushing it away.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Elain says quietly, not meeting her eyes.
“I know what I heard, and I know how I felt. It’s the same thing, she’s just quieter,” Nesta responds. “She always has been.” Elain shifts again, eyes joining Nesta’s in peering at the dazzling pool of sunlight—reflecting off the carpet, illuminating the room with a warm-orange glow.
“You’re suggesting forcing her into a place of discomfort,” Elain says at last. Inhales deeply, then blows it out, raising her fingers to her brow, rubbing lightly. “I needed time and space, too,” she says, almost a whisper. “I needed to be on my own. To have my independence returned. I needed the quiet to recover from the Cauldron.” Hands drag over her face, cool tips of her digits cover her eyes, soothing the ache at the back of her mind—not enough sleep.
Shifts again, straightening, hands returning to her lap. “While you needed someone to reach out.”
“We’ve given her time, and space,” Nesta argues. “Most of the time she has the whole House to herself. None of us bother her up there; she can come and go as she wants. And nothing’s changing.” Elain remains quiet, peering distantly at the carpet, the colour of fox’s fur. Drags her attention away. “If she won’t change, something else needs to,” Nesta says, voice softening again. “It’s not right,” she breathes, “we’re sisters. We grew up together, slept in the same bed, went through the same sufferings. We shouldn’t fall apart now.” Her voice is heavy, tired and worried. Not how she wants to be the day of her departure.
“Why not now?” Elain asks quietly. Silver raises to cocoa, brow raised in question. “I think now makes sense,” she says softly. “There’s no longer a reason for us to stay together.”
“What are you talking about? We’re family, that’s reason enough,” Nesta mutters. Elain shakes her head. “Think about it,” she insists. “Growing up there was nowhere else to go. There was no choice—we’d do what had to be done to live. You were going to marry Tomas, I would marry Graysen, and Feyre would continue looking after father,” she says heavily. “Then Feyre was taken, and eventually so were we. Then came the Cauldron. Then the war hit. Then Briallyn messed things up.”
Elain sighs heavily, closing her eyes for a moment. “We were finally in a spot of peace, and now there’s” —she gestures to Nesta in her state of departure— “this to deal with.” The silver eyed female stiffens, hands shifting in her lap. “For her, there’s no reason to stick together anymore. It’s over, it’s behind us. We don’t need to keep it together.” She swallows, eyes locking with her sister’s, “she’s free to let go.”
Nesta shakes her head, gaze moving to the window. Cassian will be pestering her to get a move on soon—they were supposed to leave an hour ago, but she wanted to wait. “So you don’t want to speak with her, Bas is out of the question, and getting her away from the House is wrong,” she states flatly. “What about Az?”
Elain stiffens for a moment, inhales, then relaxes.
“That’s the worst idea yet,” she sighs, smiling despite herself. “She’s out with Mor today anyway. Let’s just see how that goes.” Nesta turns away, sharp eyes flitting to the clock atop the mantel piece. “Fine. But things need to change.”
————
She’s been leaving her room less and less, coiling tighter and tighter in recent days.
He’s certain that’s entirely to do with the agreement they had come to almost a week ago.
The scent of gardenias flourishes in her wake, touched to the handles of mugs and the hilts of cutlery. She’s even taken to wearing gloves when she deigns to seek food, scurrying through the hallways on what she must think are quiet feet. It seems even the House is reluctant to encourage her reclusive behaviour. Quiet pitter-pats softly padding down hallways, cotton socks tip-toeing along floorboards, fabric fluttering as she whispers between walls.
He’s begun noticing unusual crooks in cutlery—subtly misshapen around the necks of the metal. Often accompanied by a dull warmth, like soft skin fresh from the sun, steadily cooling in dappled shade. Plates are usually clean: washed, dried and returned to the cupboards after use. Very few things are ever out of place once she’s made her bi-daily trips to the kitchen, as if limiting her marks on the space. Keeping her distance, even in the background.
Her sleeping pattern is sufficient for the most part, only occasionally is there no light coming from beneath her door by the time midday strikes. With the days becoming shorter, candlelight frequently flickers in the hallway once night has descended, generally winking out before midnight, though that’s also subject to change.
Why does he always get tasked with chaperoning?
Azriel nods his silent thanks to the House, a hot meal delivered to his desk, pointedly placed atop the book he’s been meaning to read. A habit that had initially been formed three centuries ago—close enough, anyway. Sleep is a rare delight, a luxury he’s rightly denied, often allowing him time to complete more reports, file new orders, map out future movements.
The book had been purchased with these long nights in mind, intended to help relieve the immense stress of managing his work, now manifesting as strain across his wings and back, often finding the trapezius aching, on the verge of cramping up. Supposedly, he would find himself restless, then turn to the novel for comfort, yet it would do nothing to assuage the guilt of not working. He needs to work to protect. He doesn’t need rest as long as he eats well and keeps up with training, pushing himself to the limit in every aspect of his life.
However, despite the self-indulgent purchase, completing these tasks; writing up reports sets him at ease. So long as everything is kept in order and regularly maintained, the fewer cold nights he’ll put himself through. He works to prevent events from tipping into unstoppable motion, to prevent opposing players being caught, finding themselves at the wrong end of his blade.
Those nights are bottomless. Spirals that have no pit, that he doesn’t always manage to escape in time.
There’s one kept away from the light now, slowly dying in the darkness he was born from. A sickness creeping into bones, softening minds to outer incisions. Plying apart willpower with contemptible cruelty.
Stares across at the pile of reports, paper bowing beneath the accumulating weight. Reaches for the first one, pen in hand, poised to take note of any changes mentioned. Steadily working his way through the pile, day draining to dusk, draining to night. Shadows swish and swirl, aimlessly flickering, freely crawling and creeping across the floor in search of things to report on. Catch the faint thumps of soft feet upon floorboards, pouncing on the sound.
Skitter beneath the doorframe, lurking at the threshold as the female figure approaches on pointed toes, tip-tapping over wooden boards, gliding past. Darkness observes dutifully, grabbing at details: lidded eyes, stray hairs loose, rectangular bags hanging regretfully from her forearms—handles biting into soft flesh. Watch as she passes, skirts swishing against brown paper with each step. Not fully present.
She passes by, keeping to the other side of the hall, giving the door an unnecessarily wide berth. Shadowed gaze strains ahead, tilted down to place her steps correctly, heading for her own chambers. Continues along, darkness stalking her steps, making sure she passes before moving to return to their keeper. Observe as she comes to a stop before a chest of drawers, bathed in moonlight. Atop is a large mirror, the frame intricately detailed. The surface is littered with little things: blown-out candles, burnt down incense, stray jewellery, a few lone arrowheads—probably misplaced.
Eyes wonder between the bits and bobs, attention not fully there, forearms marginally lower with the weight of result of her gifts. He keeps them from sneaking inside, discovering the contents. Notes as her gaze lingers on the candles, picking out their reflection in her eyes, moonlight contained within clear glass. Flick up to the mirror, shoulders sloping with fatigue, lips pursing.
Nib scratches across paper as he copies a sentence down, setting the parchment to the side, shadows already having slid the next one to his desk. Still-full plate pushed closer to the centre of his desk, encouraging him to eat. Seven more, he thinks, eyeing the steep stack of reports. Seven more, then I can eat.
Arms shift, evening out the weight of the bags. Relieving pressure from indented flesh as her eyes dart away at last, finished analysing. Skate over the metalwork of the frame, flora sculpted to each corner, in bloom. Rise higher, tracing the pristine blade mounted atop the mirror. Looking how her younger sister does at scenes she likes, the urge to put them onto a canvas itching at her fingertips.
Muscle snaps tight, a flinch zapping against her skin as feet stutter in their stillness. A faint green light sparks from beneath the gloves, teeth sharply clamping together, like the clink of porcelain.
Silence settles, limbs held taut as moments pass. Counting down, plummeting. Arm shifts slightly, then handles snap, the edges of the paper singed. Heart kicks up, lips parting in a choked inhale, lids widening marginally. Bags hit the floor, thudding dully as she winces, cottoned foot stuck out to muffle the sound, teeth clasping her lower lip.
Breathing quickens, shallowing as she hastily fans off her hands, as if cooling the skin before dipping down. Carefully scoops the bags back up into her arms, shoes pulled to her chest as she scuttles away to her own room, not sparing a look back. The smell of sweetened gardenias wafts in her wake, mixing with something smokey—like singed paper.
Pen pauses its movement, nostrils flaring delicately, throat rolling.
Shadows recede from the hallway, coast now clear.
Seconds tick by, before ink is scratched into parchment, resuming his task. A few more, he promises. A few more, then I can eat.
But minutes later, a few having passed, and the next report lies upon his desk, hazel eyes scanning the concise letters. Food untouched.
————
Midday hits, and you’re fidgeting outside the door, hand raised for the handle.
It turns before you get a chance to twist it, harshly stepping back, making room as it swings open.
Silky, golden hair gleams beneath the sunshine, a dazzling smile already in place as warm eyes latch to your own. Something stabs across your chest, and you have to ease a deep breath into your lungs, feigning surprise. “Gosh,” you murmur, a little breathlessly, “you startled me.”
Soft, pillowy lips widen in an even brighter smile, cheeks rounding with laughter as apologies ring from her mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here already,” she smiles, opening the door wider as she steps out. “Hardly anyone in this family is ready on time,” she mutters playfully, as if exchanging a secret. You flush at the murmured tone, the look of playfulness, as if part of an inside joke shared between the two of you. Lips part in a helpless smile, a little shaky around the edges as nervousness burns your throat.
The door clicks shut, and she’s briskly walking down the steps, arm already linked below your own. The pale yellow dress floats about her ankles, heels the colour of golden straw lacing up her feet, the tea-coloured shawl prettily wrapped over deceptively slim arms. She waltzes over the cobbles as if it’s flat ground, the points of her shoes moving as she wills, dodging the dips and cracks as she pulls your with her.
“Is there anywhere you want you visit first?” She asks, steering you down the street, taking a right at the bottom of the front lawn, the sidra peeking between earth-toned buildings. Swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Not really…” you answer—you should have planned this in advance. Why hadn’t that crossed your mind? Clear your throat as you walk together, side by side. “We’re doing this together, right?” You manage, feeling as though your feet are slamming into the cobbles, stumbling over your shoes.
Honey-warm eyes flit to you, sparking with life. “What do you mean by that?” Avert your gaze from her gleaming features, the smooth skin and the perfectly plump lips. “It’s not just… You’re going to be getting things too, right?”
Her smile doesn’t falter for a second. “If that’s what you want, then I’m sure I can find something to spend money on,” she laughs, squeezing your arm lightly in a surprisingly familiar gesture. You manage a tight smile, one you hope looks regular. You’d settle for believable. She laughs again, attention returning to swiftly scanning shop windows, flitting about each front, effortlessly making her way through the street. “We’ll tell Amren it took more convincing than that, won’t we?” She says, again in that intimately secret tone you’re having trouble understanding.
“Amren?” You ask, confused. There was no mention of Amren joining this trip over the dinner. Stomach plumes with anxiety. Would it be too obvious to feign a stomach ache? Mor doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed by your bewilderment. “We had a bet, of sorts. She bet that I’d end up coming home with at least three bags of clothing,” she elaborates. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?” Manage a stiff nod, scrambling to keep up with the conversation, thrown off by the brightness of the sky, how crisp the wind is, how noisy background chatter can be.
“Right,” you say in response.
“Wrong,” Mor corrects, making your skin flush with embarrassment. “I have never once managed. Any less than five and something’s gone wrong.” She smiles at you, then her attention flicks over your head. “What about that one?” She asks, nodding to a store. Turn to peer at the shop fronts—none of them containing books. Throat rolls, scanning again. “Which…one?”
Mor only laughs, already dragging you toward an open door. “Come on, it’ll be fun, I promise,” she smiles. “Besides, you said you wanted me to do some shopping too, right?” Reluctantly nod your head, because yes, you had said that.
Ease a heavy breath, stepping into the large store, filled with clothing, the aisles thankfully wide enough to accommodate multiple bodies without becoming packed.
Beginning the long day.
————
“What about this?” Mor asks pulling out pale yellow dress, a few shades darker than her own. Clear your throat, nodding, “looks nice.” Her eyes sparkle, pushing it onto your hands, “go try it on then!” You blink, peering down at the dress that’s been pushed into your gloved hands. Quickly shake your head, trying to push it back to her. “I thought you meant for yourself,” you hastily clarify.
Rosey lips lift into a charming smile, “I’ve got way too many in yellow and gold. Besides, you said it looks nice, right?”
“Well, yes…”
“Then try it on!” She encourages, nodding toward the changing rooms. But you shake your head, “it’s autumn already, I wouldn’t be able to wear something like this until next summer.”
“Perfect! We can look for a jumper— or cardigan,” she corrects, noting the cozy wooden piece you’ve wrapped yourself in. Already her eyes are scanning the racks for something complimentary.
Shake your head, “really, it’s fine. I have enough.”
Her hands still from sorting through the hangers, fingers pausing, before settling on the wooden pole. “You know you can get things that you want now, right?” She asks gently, gaze resting on the rack. Lick your lips as apprehension builds in your shoulders. “I know I can,” you reply slowly, “I just— I don’t— want anything.” She looks at you then, and you swear you catch something flicking through her gaze, but it’s gone too quickly for you to be sure.
A beat of silence passes, tension coiling your stomach, muscles contracting.
“Okay,” she says at last, softer than before. “It’s not for everyone, I suppose.” Warm-honey eyes flick down to the dress still clutched in your hands, “would you at least try it on? To see what it feels like?” Your lips purse, hesitant to do something so deeply indulgent, but… She’s compromising here. You should respect that. Throat rolls, nodding, “okay.”
The edges of her mouth soften into something that’s not quite a smile, but it’s reassuring. “You’ll look great,” she says, “I’m sure of it.”
————
A few hours have passed, food eaten, Mor trying on clothes here and there. At least ten different items from each shop, and you’re relieved. Relaxed enough that she’s managed to coax you into trying on a few other things here and there. Nothing that would even compare to some of the clothes you’ve seen the others in, but it’s a start. Nothing you would have cared even think about a few years ago. It still makes you a little sick to think of the steep gap in wealth.
What would have happened if Feyre hadn’t killed that wolf?
You’d probably still be there now, dreading the onset of icy winter, the early morning bite of cold that would seep beneath the thin blanket. The dirt and grime beneath nails, skin tacky with dried sweat, hair smelly and matted.
Swallow thickly, moving your gaze around the large shop—another clothing store. Locate Mor in the far corner, having wondered off of your own volition to peer at a pair of earrings, deep blue set in silver. Thumb the empty slots on your ear absently—it would be nice to have some jewellery. Something thin and elegant, not too chunky, but subtle and dainty. Run the pads of your fingers over the cool glass of the pendant at your neck, feeling the reassuring weight.
“See something you like?”
You nearly choke on your tongue, releasing a surprised sound as you snap your attention to the side, Mor having snuck up on silent feet to peer over your shoulder. Inhale deeply, pressing a hand over your chest, feeling the rapid flutter of your heart as you attempt to even out your breaths. Manage to shake you head, “just looking.” Her eyes catch on something, pointing through the glass case, “what about that?” Turn to see what she’s talking about. “The rings?” You ask.
Goodness, rings would be lovely. You’ve see the ones Feyre sometimes wears—silver with slices of gem encrusted along the surface. The ones Rhys sometimes wears—flat, thick bands of sterling, a single one carved into a feather, wrapped around his fifth finger. Then the ones Mor wears, shifting between different metals depending on her mood—todays she’s feeling golden.
“Look at that one,” she gushes, pointing at the band containing a small ruby, polished to perfection. A smile creeps onto your lips of its own accord. “That’s very you,” you say, a hint of a laugh surprising both of you. She nudges you playfully, “I’m more than just red and gold, you know.” Lips part in a more open smile, corners quirking as you hum back, “of course, my mistake. Too few jewels for your taste.”
Mor blinks for a moment, a beat passing, then a ringing laugh spills from her rosey lips, eyes closing for a second to conceal her surprise. Palm coming over her mouth in attempts to muffle the joyous sound. Dip your head in slight embarrassment, a shy smile playing on your mouth as she tries to recompose herself.
“What were you looking at?” She asks once she’s pulled herself back together, golden hair silkily cascading over her shawl as she runs her fingers through the soft mass, sending it spilling in new directions. You shrug, hastily averting your eyes again, head dipping away. “Nothing in particular.”
Mor hums, laughter still bright on her features. Her hand suddenly clasps your forearm, making you tense. “What about that?” She asks, sounding somewhat breathless. Raise your gaze to follow her direction, spotting the dress that’s hung at the end of a pole. “It’s perfect for you,” she says, excited, already pulling you gently toward it. Reluctantly, you follow.
You can tell why she thinks you’ll like it. In terms of practicality, it seems to be excellent, the dress made of a creamy-cocoa coloured wool, looking like it would be soft against your skin. The neckline itself is a gentle v, the curve not too steep, an elegant suggestion instead of blatant showcasing. Both the sleeves and the skirt of the dress are modest, looking like you’d be able to tuck your hands beneath the wool should you become too cold, the hem of the dress nearing the floor.
For the first time that day, you allow Mor to push the dress into your gloved hands, allow her to convince you to try it on, even to convince you it looks nice over your shape. The wool is as soft as it looks, almost sending you to sleep from the warm brush, soothing as it contains your heat, like being swaddled in feather-soft cotton. It’s a little close-fitting around your ribs and stomach, pressing comfortably but not tight—a little too revealing, but it can be hidden by a cardigan or cloak. Spin in a small circle, watching as the skirts flare at your ankles, then falling back against your legs, cosy and soft.
“You look lovely,” Mor says from your side, and you turn to face her, a helpless smile lifting the edges of your mouth. This is something you wouldn’t mind having. It’s warm and practical, comfortable without compromising appearance. There are no intricate details, no sequins or jewels to make it particularly astonishing, just simple and plain. Absolutely perfect.
“Do you want it?” She asks quietly, having moved closer. Throat rolls, gloved fingers running over the wool—how lovely it would be to feel it properly. You do want it, but… “Let me get it,” she says, hand lightly clasping your wrist, turning you toward her. Eyes flick down at the warm wool, taking in its soothing comfort. The redirection is on your tongue, prepared to deny yourself further. “That’s what this whole trip is for,” she reminds, tone quiet. “You like it, don’t you?” She asks, and discomfort squirms beneath your skin—you can’t lie to her.
Her lips part into a wide smile, hands pressing together. “That’s great,” she reassures, “let me get it for you. As a belated present.” Eyes dip lower, pressing into the floorboard, brows tightening ever so slightly. This isn’t something you need…
You can’t quite bring yourself to look at her as your head dips. “Okay…”
You feel more than see the air shift, brightening as she eases a breath out, smile widening into sunshine. “Perfect!” She signs, “I was beginning to doubt we’d find anything.” You manage a tight smile, still unable to go fully look at her, but—it’s going to be yours. How long has it been since you’d been in a situation where you were allowed to pick something you liked, instead of a hand-me-down?
Naturally almost an entire new wardrobe had been offered upon your initial transportation here, but those were plain in a different way. The idea of having a cupboard full of clothes explicitly for yourself seems wildly indulgent, bordering on selfish. What could one person possibly need so many clothes for? Yet the way the wool sits soft against your skin has you beginning to understand the want, why it’s so important to some people. Throat rolls, touching gloved hands to your waist, feeling the wrap of warmth around your skin. “Thank you.”
A weight settles in your chest, but you can’t quite bring yourself to regret the purchase.
————
After being taken from shop to shop, you’d finally reached one of the many bookstores in Velaris—the point your discipline had taken a heavy hit.
Peer down at the brown paper bag on your arm, one of three. The first containing the dress, the second containing a comfy pair of slippers Mor had managed to convince you to allow her to buy—there had been an ochre yellow jumper too, that you’d had to beg her not to buy because you’d caught sight of the price tag. And this third bag, containing two new books. You’d taken your time deciding on them—books don’t last you very long, generally being finished anywhere between a few hours and a week depending on your interest.
Darkness has fallen thanks to the days becoming shorter, a wave of fatigue washing through your mind as you glance out through the windows, peering down at Velaris, lit by dotted faelights—appearing as little, bright stars spotted amongst inky blackness.
Shoes are held in your arm, not wanting to tread dirt into the floors, the three bags weighing on your forearm as you behind quietly making your way to your room. You don’t know who else is about, and while the days hadn’t been as straining as you had anticipated, any more interaction threatens to send you spiralling.
Cotton socks tread lightly as you make your way through the halls, trying to keep from kneeing any of the bags in case it disturbs someone.
The corridors seems darker than usual, something ineffable about his presence affecting the surrounding area as you raise to the points of your toes, keeping volume to a minimum. Heart picks up as you keep to the left of the hallway, creeping at the edges like an unwanted creature, keeping to the darkness in fear of being caught and squashed. Keep your gaze on the floor as you try to move past as quietly as possible, peering along to the end of the corridor, a single wide window illuminating the floor. Moonlight spills through it, pooling on the wooden boards, reflecting onto the short set of drawers pushed against the wall.
You pass by his door as quietly as possible, hardly breathing until you reach the piece of furniture. Peer at the small trinkets scattered across its top, momentarily distracted. Some stray jewellery glints against the wood, little tea lights and incense sticks, a few arrowheads that have been discarded. It’s unnervingly simple to find various little weapons lying around, short daggers accidentally thrown in with cutlery, or things like arrowheads that have seemingly been forgotten this far into the House.
Eyes inadvertently lift to the large mirror, locking with your reflection. Something shifts just out of your vision, but you remain latched on. Stare at your hair, the set of your mouth in relation to your eyes, the corners aligning with your pupils. Look lower, shifting over collar bones and tense— You relax your shoulders, untighten your jaw, releasing the lines of tension that have been carved into your body.
Stare at your mouth again, tempted to raise the pads of your fingers to skate across the skin—test to see if they’re as pillowy as Mor’s appeared. Throat rolls, pressing down on the urge. Why bother comparing yourself like that.
Gaze breaks from the mirror, shoulders sloping further. The day was fun. Fun.
She’s enjoyable to be around. Almost enough for you to want another day. She knows how to speak to people, how to set them at ease. Brows tighten as you recall her smile, dazzling like sunshine, practically spelling you into response. Once again peer at the downward tilt of your mouth. Who would want to kiss such a sad looking mouth?
Look away before your thoughts go any further.
Lift up, settling on the mounted blade. Moonlight grins along its edge, hanging tauntingly overhead. Like a guillotine poised to snick down on your reflection. Throat rolls, the point of the steel twinkling like starlight, tongue flicks out to wet your lower lip.
Mindlessly wander how sharp it is, if there’s some tale behind it—maybe an heirloom. Either way, it must be special, to be put on display like that.
Again trace the smile of the curved blade, following the gleaming edge of steel.
(Would its slice would be faster than pain?)
Pain splinters up your knuckles, breath catching int your throat as fingertips burn. Jaw clamps, muscle locking as violent aches cramp your palms, lacing beneath the sleeves of your dress.
Keep still, eyes squeezing shut as you ease breaths into your lungs. The pain subsides to a dull itch, and you move to turn. Nostrils flare at the smell of smoke, eyes flicking down as the handles of the bags snap, singed and burnt away. Heart picks up at the books plummet to the floor, ready to thud intrusively on the boards, crack through the silence. Socked-foot sticks out before you can think, just needing to muffle the sound before it hits.
Teeth sink into your lower lip as one of the corners hits the bridge of your foot, undoubtedly going to bruise later, but you keep the noise of pain to a minimum. Heart pounds in the silence, and you’re swiftly ducking down to scoop the bags into your arms. Humiliation burns in your throat, shame twisting in your gut. If you had been less greedy…less hoggish… So stupid.
The gifts weigh in your arms like burning coals, clutched to tightly, desperately, as you scurry away down the hall. Crawling away into the distance.
————
Unscrew the pot of hand cream as soon as you’ve finished shoving the bags into the dust beneath your bed, pushed as far back as possible.
Peel back gloves, their tips singed open, already dipping your fingers into the cooling balm.
The sickening smell of gardenias floats up to you, skin burning as you rub the cream in, stinging from the aftermath. Fleetingly peer at the blank paper atop your desk, taunting but unadded to.
Feel control slipping out from under you, like the world is moving without you. Just a few steps behind. Heart picks up, a light, panicky feeling setting in. Fingertips crackle, glowing bright and tears slip out, teeth biting into the raw pain of your lip.
Swallowing down a single choked cry.
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thelov3lybookworm · 6 months
Note
I have a request!
Can you write something where Cassian is tasked with “babysitting” Azriel’s very pregnant mate? Like she can’t be alone for medical reasons and Rhys really needs Azriel for something and Cass is the only one not busy? I just think it would be hilarious. 😂
Babysitting
Summary: Cassian's day doesn't go as planned.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: this was so funny my baby anon 😭💀i love it so much❣️
•○🌑○•
Rhys's pov.
"I can't leave her here alone Rhys! You know how moody and clingy she's become these past few weeks. She has also become extremely excited. She can't sit still for more than an hour or so. She can't stay alone." Azriel ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly as his anxiety built. "Hell, can you believe I found her trying to climb into our closet because she wanted to clean it the other day?"
"I know brother, and I wouldn't have asked you to come unless it was absolutely necessary. Keir is once again planning something, you know it. Your presence is needed."
Azriel sighed heavily, settling into one of the chairs in his brother's office. "Tell me again why I'm needed?"
"I want you to snoop around hewn city while I distract the court."
Azriel cursed. "And no one can stay with her? Because she will not be going to hewn city, no matter what."
Rhys contemplated for some time. He wished he didn't have to do this. He didn't want his brother to worry too much about his mate. But this trip to the hewn city was also important.
Mor was visiting Miryam and Drakon. She was not in Velaris. She was out of the question for taking care of Y/n.
Feyre and Amren would be coming along to hewn city. They couldn't help either.
Nesta had training with the Valkyries.
Rhys sighed. Nuala and Cerridwen would be spying g along with Azriel. Elain was on her trip across Prythian.
Just when Rhys was about to give up, the door to his office burst open and in stumbled Cassian. He grinned when he found both his brothers staring at him as he tried to regain some semblance of balance.
Rhys glanced at Azriel, a smile crawling onto his face.
Azriel's brows furrowed, and then his eyes widened with understanding. "No. No. Absolutely not."
Rhys's grin turned feline. "Come on brother, there's no other option."
"What are we talking about?" Cassian questioned as he dropped into the chair next to Azriel, the chair wobbling for a moment.
"Nothing much brother. Just discussing the oncoming trip to hewn city."
"Oh?"
The next few moments went with Rhys explaining why they were going and who all were coming along.
Cassian heaved a relieved sigh when he realised that he was not accompanying them.
"Don't get too happy brother. Because you are free on that day, we were hoping you could stay with Y/n. Look after her.take care of her. She is nearing her delivery date and Az here is a little concerned."
"You want me to babysit her? That's alright! She is after all like my little sister. I can take care of her."
Azriel looked skeptical, but a little more persuasion was all that was needed for him to agree.
Now all they had to do was wait for the day.
•○🌑○•
Cassian's pov.
Y/n's lip quivered as she watched her mate get ready for his trip to hewn city. Cassian felt bad as he watched her. He wished he could comfort her, but didn't know how.
Azriel stood from where he was tying his boots while sitting on the couch, giving Y/n a soft smile. He walked up to her, cupping her face in both hands. "I'll be back soon, hmm?"
Y/n nodded, tears forming in her eyes. Azriel pulled her in for a hug, rubbing her back. Azriel glanced at Cassian, who simply stood there awkwardly, trying not to intrude. He grinned before pulling away from Y/n.
After Azriel was gone, Y/n turned to Cassian. He smiled at her.
"What do you want to do today sister?"
"I was hoping you'd bake with me."
Cassian blinked at her. "What?"
"You always say you have good skills in the kitchen. Bake with me."
Cassian, dumbfounded, simply nodded. He followed her into the kitchen, staring as she pulled out whatever was needed. "I'm thinking we can make cookies. What do you say?"
"Alright."
Y/n was quiet for a moment, then she pulled out a small stool from nearby and began climbing onto it. A panic gripped Cassian as he jolted into action. "What are you doing?! Get down!"
Y/n glanced at Cassian, confused. "I need to get the flour. It's up there."
"I'll get it for you." He gently tugged her down, his heart beating in his throat. "Cauldron, you scared me."
He reached up for the container, but he didn't realise how light it would be. He pulled it out, thinking it would be heavy, but it was lighter than expected. The container jerked in his hands, and then the lid flipped open.
Before he knew what happened, Cassian was covered in flour. He turned to a laughing Y/n, clutching at her swollen stomach and leaning against the counter nearby.
A Shadow floated next to her head, and she grinned at it. That was what made Cassian suspicious.
"Why was the lid open? Was it even open?" He questioned, shaking his head to try and get rid of the flour.
Y/n grinned. "Come on Cass. Can a female not have some fun with her brother?" She again glanced at the shadow. Cassian sighed.
"Is there anything else needed?"
"Eggs."
"Where is it?"
She grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. "Above you."
Cassian was a second too late as he tried to step away. The egg cracked over his head, running down his face.
Cassian groaned. "Y/n. Please stop. This is not funny."
"It's funny to me." She laughed.
"Get out. I'll make the cookies. Go sit on the couch over there."
Y/n pouted, but at Cassian's glare, she sulked away.
Cassian sighed and set to cleaning.
•○🌑○•
When he walked out of the kitchen, he nearly dropped dead because of the fright he recieved.
There, near the fireplace, standing on a chair, was Y/n, dusting a shelf.
"Y/n. Can you please get down." He mumbled softly, trying not to scream in case he frightened her and she lost her balance.
She turned to him, a pleasant smile on her face. That smile faltered when she saw the expression on his face. "What is it?"
"Get down Y/n."
She grumbled but climbed down slowly.
"What is wrong with you?!" He burst out the moment she was on the ground.
Her lower lip wobbled, and Cassian immediately felt guilty. "What is wrong with you?"
Cassian dragged a hand down his face. "I'm sorry. You just scared me. You know it's not safe for you to be climbing on things around the house, right?"
"The chair isn't that high. And the house needs cleaning. Azzie hasn't been letting me do anything since I got pregnant. It's been irritating me."
Cassian pulled her in for a hug, cradling her head gently. "I know sister. But let's wait until after the babe's here to clean the house, yeah?"
She nodded, sniffing.
"I'm bored." She suddenly murmured, looking at him.
Cassian blinked. "Um... is there nothing you can do? We can play something. While sitting." He gave her a look, and she nodded innocently.
"We can play cards."
"Fine."
•○🌑○•
Cassian was on the verge of tears.
The two of them had played cards until the cookies were ready to eat, and after that Y/n had insisted he read to her. Apparently, Azriel always read to her when she was bored.
And Cassian, being the arrogant little prick he was, had wondered how hard it could be. Surely, a warrior who had conquered battlegrounds and men far stronger, one who was one of the best warrior prythian had seen in centuries, could read a book to his brothers wife?
Wrong. He could not read the book without wanting to crawl into a hole and never show his face again.
Y/n had insisted that he read the book she picked.
She sat munching and nibbling on the cookies he made as he struggled to get even one of the filthy words out of his mouth. Sure, he had done these things with Nesta, but reading of them in front of his someone... it felt like his soul was leaving his body.
All the while she remained oblivious to his plight.
Finally, when she took pity on him and told him to stop reading.
"I want to take a nap. Then we can cook dinner."
Cassian had never gotten rid of something in his hands faster.
She settled down on the couch, her head in his lap. He smiled softly when a sigh left her.
Then he asked her the question buzzing in his head. "Where did you get the book from?"
He phrased it casually, and thank the cauldron, she answered him without even a hint of suspicion.
"Oh, Nesta lent it to me."
Cassian's eyes practically bulged out of his head. "That's great."
Y/n hummed, already drifting off.
Cassian shook his head, smiling.
•○🌑○•
Azriel's pov.
He opened the door carefully, trying not to make any noise.
As he stepped in through the threshold, he found the home to be pitch black. His brows furrowed in confusion. Had Y/n not lit the faelights?
As he turned them on, his heart melted.
There on the couch, his brother and wife slept.
She was stretched out on the couch, her face relaxed. Her mouth was sightly parted.
Cassian was sprawled out on the armchair near the fireplace, his arms wrapped across his chest. His legs were stretched out, and he looked like he would slip off the couch any moment now.
Azriel slightly shook Cassian's shoulder, causing him to jerk awake.
He blearily blinked at Azriel, a crease between his brows. Then his eyes widened in relief, and he scrambled to stand.
"Thank the mother you are back." Cassian whispered, finally stable on his feet.
"Why?"
"Oh my. This female made me wonder if i needed more training. I'm so fucking tired." Cassian suddenly clutched at his back, groaning.
"What happened?" Azriel questioned, concerned.
"Don't ask, brother. Don't ask."
"Okay." Azriel made to turn away, and Cassian gaped ay him. With a small smile, Azriel turned back toward him.
"She took a nap in the afternoon. And then she was unstoppable. Creating trouble left and right. More so than Nyx."
Azriel chuckled. He glanced at his wife and mate. She looked so peaceful. Like she was the calmest person in prythian.
"I'll take my leave now." Cassian mumbled, stretching.
Azriel nodded. "I owe you one."
"Don't worry about it."
Cassian walked to Y/n, bending to press a kiss to her forehead before he left.
Azriel smiled. As much as Cassian complained, everyone knew he would do anything to make his family happy.
He was nice like that.
Y/n blinked her pretty eyes open, looking up at him through her lashes. "Hello Azzie."
"Hello my love. Let's get you to bed."
Y/n nodded, holding her arms out to him. "I think we should make a cake or something to thank Cassian for keeping me company today."
"That's a great idea." He spoke as he helped her stand.
"Tomorrow then?"
Azriel smiled at his mate. "Tomorrow."
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife
Azriel taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings
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lullabestie14 · 1 month
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Found this comment on Reddit. Couldn’t explain it better than this.
“It’s clear from Mist and Fury that the original ships were: Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, and Mor/Azriel. Like it’s so obvious the way she wrote Mor and Azriel; Mor even seems vaguely interested/torn about Az. Looking at interviews, SJM even talks about Elucien as a couple (eg where would they like to travel together, etc).
Flash forward to ACOWAR. For whatever reason (lack of chemistry with Az, wanting more diversity) SJM has Mor say that she prefers women. This time the Az-pining-for-Mor is more desperate/feels like a zero chance of being requited. SJM also introduces Az as a potential love interest for Elain because she loves throwing a wrench. Just because Elucien are mates doesn’t mean they’ll have it easy; SJM’s whole thing is angst. She had to throw in a love triangle to make it uncertain. This is the first couple where mate status is confirmed upon meeting.
But there’s a problem now. If Az and Mor are no longer endgame, who will they end up with? is it not suspicious that the two new characters introduced in SF (Gwyn and Emerie) just HAPPEN to be potentially be good partners for Az and Mor? Like it’s not a coincidence that Emerie looks at Mor and blushes, remarking how pretty she is. It’s not a coincidence that Az and Gwyn have so many interactions in the text. It’s not a coincidence that a “random side character” shows up in a bonus chapter.
When SJM created Gwyn and Emerie, it wasn’t just to give Nesta friends. These characters clearly didn’t exist when she wrote MAF. SJM wanted new characters that would solve her retcon of ending Az/Mor. She wanted to solve the Mor/Az retcon so bad that she created a NEW RETCON of Az going to Sangravah. Like why bother to add that detail if it’s not important.
Also: poor Lucien. His endgame heroine was supposed to be Nesta until SJM realized they would be terrible together and that Nessian had better chemistry. So she gives Elucien the mating bond. Like is she really going to fuck Lucien over TWICE? She loves him as a character and has put him through the wringer. Yes, I agree that SJM can change her mind and maybe is open to mate rejection, but Lucien has already switched love interests from Nesta to Elain! Who else is he going to switch to, considering that Jurian and Vassa are “at each other’s throats?”
Finally, please think about the number of books left. Ignoring novellas (which are probably gonna be fluffy ones like ACOFAS where nothing happens), there are two main books left. Two couples.
Option A:
• ⁠Gwynriel (Valkyrie growth, Illyrian rebellion, exploring Ramiel, Gwyn’s autumn heritage and maybe lightsinger?? powers)
• ⁠Elucien (Helion secret baby, defeating Koschei, freeing Vassa, fixing spring court)
Option B
• ⁠Elriel (mate rejection storyline, potentially some stuff above)
• ⁠?????
Literally WHO is the second book in this equation? Lucien and Vassa?? We barely know Vassa and there’s barely any connection to Night Court. And Lucien’s book is going to be depressing as fuck dealing with mate rejection; does anyone want to read two heavy books of rejection? Jurian and Vassa: again, we barely know them! At least with Tower of Dawn, Chaol had been a main character for a long time with POV. SJM will not do a full-length Emerie/Mor book as much as I would love for one. She’s very cognizant of criticism re: Mor bi rep in the past; she doesn’t want to open a can of worms and be accused of writing bad sapphic rep. If anything, I can see a fluffy Emerie/Mor novella with little angst (or them getting together in the background of other books).
So from a meta structural level, I don’t understand who the second couple will be if Elriel is endgame. Lucien/Vassa is the most plausible answer, but 1) we barely know Vassa, 2) she’s human and Lucien is immortal. So are we going to toss her into the Cauldron to make her immortal? Serious question, and 3) I don’t want TWO books about mate rejection, it’s depressing as hell. I can see one but not two.
But with Gwynriel and Elucien, you have enormous fan and audience interest in ALL FOUR CHARACTERS. They’re directly tied to Night Court and SJM so far has no intention of staying away from the core group.”
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olenvasynyt · 1 month
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I could write an entire essay on why I don’t think Elriel is endgame but I think I just need to say one thing (besides Elain and Lucien are mates):
We didn’t get to see their lust and feelings develop on page, and more importantly, in their POVs. We get Feyre seeing glances and blushes from across the room. Absolutely. I’m not denying that. But a romance book immediately starting with two characters already in love? That’s not SJMs way. She has ALWAYS made her couples struggle with their feelings before accepting and officially falling in love, even when the couples had secret attraction for each other.
Elriel has tension, but that’s already the peak of their relationship. It can’t get any higher, and in fact, it’s already going downhill with the bonus chapter.
It’s also not SJMs way to do a secret romance / cheating trope which I see a lot of people suggesting, because with a cheating trope, it only works if the person being cheated on is a bad person and did wrong on their partner. Lucien is not that man, you guys. Not at all. And what I’m getting from Elriels is they want Elriel’s book to be Elain and Az in love even though Rhys forbade it and Lucien either accepting it and going with Vassa because he loved her the entire time anyway (despite everything going against that) or him getting mad Elain went for Az instead and he calls for a blood duel.
I’m so sorry but Elriel just makes no sense to me. They have no struggle, no growth, no substance.
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grandwretch · 1 year
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"I know you have a joint in your pocket," Steve said, throwing what he hoped was a casual arm around Eddie's shoulders. "You don't wanna make a quick buck? Take your girl out somewhere nice?"
Eddie shot Steve an unimpressed look. "My girl owes me a quick buck or two, actually, leaving me with you all night."
Steve shrugged. "She'll make it up to you."
With a hum, Eddie said, "If she knows what's good for her," and Steve couldn't suppress the shiver that trailed along his spine.
this was originally so much kinkier but i made myself erase it because i was like oh if you don’t Know it makes eddie sound like a fucking serial killer 
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On Mate Behavior: Elriel
So, when it comes to Azriel's mate behavior, I would say the most commonly discussed point (which I definitely agree with) to *disprove* that Azriel displays any mate behavior towards Gwyn is his overall calm demeanor and focus on Eris when the Valkyrie are kidnapped in the middle of the night and dropped into the Blood Rite.
However, there is another example that additionally highlights the lack of "mate behavior" in the bonus chapter, and I truly don't see it come up that often, though I think it is even more telling!
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When he meets Gwyn's gaze, and that bloody memory of when he first "met" her (if you would like to call that their meeting) flashes, he is otherwise completely unruffled. He simply reflects on Gwyn's growth, and two seconds later, is snorting and having an easy, playful conversation.
While this certainly points to their comfortability and fun banter that they share, it does not scream *mate behavior.*
ToG and CC spoilers ahead
I think about Rowan seeing Aelin's ruined back for the first time, and being so overcome with anger at discovering the violence that had been enacted on her that he took to the skies to get control of his violent instincts:
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I think of Cassian in his bonus chapter with Nesta- going into a rage as he smelled Nesta's fear while she recalled Tomas's attempted assault. He would have gone to kill him right then, I have no doubt:
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I think of Ruhn hating Lidia, being sick over discovering the female he had fallen for was The Hind. And yet, when Pollux lays a hand on her, he was ready to rip out his throat for hurting Lidia. He couldn't understand how he could hate her and need her and want to kill for her at the same time:
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So I do think it's interesting that in comparison to the to the other mated males who get a POV and an inside look into their heads while they reflect on trauma their mates have been through (even before knowing they are mates, which is the case in all three of these examples) they are completely unhinged. And yet we get this pointed moment where Azriel actively reflects on Gwyn's trauma, the absolute horrors that had been done to her and... nothing. A snort, and a little bit of form correction and teasing.
Meanwhile in this same book, Elain gets called boring and Azriel's shadows are like hoe who do we need to mf-ing end right tf now:
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Azriel has already established that he believes the Cauldron could be wrong. While I personally disagree that there is foreshadowing to Azriel and Gwyn being mates, even in trying to give it a fair and unbiased look and say okay- could they be mates? I still wind up drawing the conclusion that even if they are, it would mean as little to Azriel as Elain's mating bond currently means to her.
I am personally super open minded about whether or not Azriel and Elain are true mates. I think a reveal that they are could be lovely. I also think them choosing each other above all, even fate, would be lovely.
But there is simply no denying that these two already have a set up plotline of questioning the Cauldron, and the only two characters *acting* like mates in this scenario are Az and Elain.
As always, I am Lucien and Gwyn positive even though I ship Elriel, so be kind in the comments! But I just really don't see how this could possibly play out any other way. Azriel has had too many on page opportunities, even from his personal POV, to display mate behavior towards Gwyn and there is nary a lick. It's just... not how a lead up to a mate reveal typically goes. So the pure, undiluted facts are that even if you think Sarah is a "fated mate" author above all, she is not treating these characters as she usually does. And that is noteworthy.
Thank you for joining me on this dissertation!
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months
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Pretty like the sun
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Previous part / Next chapter
a/n: the follow up chapter AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ We have Az pov in this😌
warning: mention of labor, past trauma that's all. I think...
They are of age in this story. Young adults!
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Nyx's POV:
The side lake cabin was where Nyx had taken her. He wasn't sure why that place was the first thing that came to his mind. But it was the furthest place from Velaris and something deep within Nyx screamed that they had to get away. Wrong choices you are making, my boy. Nyx tightened the muscles in his jaw. It was an odd feeling. Having her here was both a relief and a worry.
Zofie was, as Nyx had come to learn, pretty out of it. Most of the time, when her power flared up, she would be left drained and emotionless. Just starting at something ahead of her, till her mind regained enough strength. Nyx still remembered when Rhys brought both her and Axel from the sanctuary. She whined from the pain her body had been in. When Madja and everyone else had left, Nyx had reached up to take her hand. His veins had turned inky black as an overwhelming wave of emotions crashed into him. He had pulled away at first, worried that he had done something wrong, but the frown on Zofie's forehand had eased. It had taken him one look at his palm to know. So he sat there for hours, holding her hand, till his bones ached. Till the light pink sheen returned to her skin.
Nyx had taken her straight to the bathing chamber. With one flick of his wrist, the hot water was pouring out of the installations on the wall. He shrugged his jacket off, not too keen on getting the leather wet. But... Nyx, you're walking on eggshells. But you felt like a cube of ice in his hands. He had tried to keep a conversation going as he flew, but she didn't respond, not even once. So he let her listen to the sound of the wind without any distractions. Now he pushed Zofie backwards carefully. Hands holding her forearms to steady her. The warm water crashed over her. Soaking her hair and body. She let out a deep breath. As if coming up for air. Her hands clasped his biceps. "Nyx," she breathed out, and fuck if it wasn't the prettiest sound. He hated when others called out for him. But not her. He could listen to... Nyx! He carefully brushed some of her black hair away from her face, tilting her head up so he could see her eyes. She blinked up. The black still rimmed the very edges of her golden eyes. "I'm here, Sunny; I've got you," he muttered, bringing her closer to his chest. Zofie's arms snaked around his torso as warm water crashed over them both. Their clothes stuck to their skin. Nyx's shirt cringed to his toned body, leaving very little to the imagination as the white material got translucent. His hands made quick work of Zofie's skirt. Her soaked skirt had to be heavy. So his hands made quick work of the buttons and string before the material hit the floor with a thud. Nyx, for fuck sake... His eyes didn't linger. Well, they did. But only for a moment as her toned legs came into view. Self-induced torture—that's what this was. But he pushed all of his thoughts aside. Letting the water drown it out too.
Neither of them had an idea of how long they stayed there. The room was fogged up and so humid that water was trickling down the walls. Their fingers had grown pruney, and Nyx managed to shift in the meantime, with no wings on display now. Zofie blinked a couple of times, pulling her face back from Nyx's chest. Her findings trailed down his side. Side. She could see the ink covering his ribs. Ink she hasn't seen before... And then the most beautiful golden eyes finally met Nyx's purple ones. "When did you get this?" Zofie's dainty fingers touched the damp material, right where you could just about make out the new tattoo. "Are you checking me out, Zof?" , Nyx teased as his eyes too fell on the new addition. Zofie let out a huff, "I'm not, but..." her eyes didn't leave the somewhat flower-resembling line work. "You used to tell me about things like this." And he did. They talked a lot when they could.
It of course changed a lot when he had to go to the camp so they could train, but... How was he meant to say that he was miserable the second time they had to go back? He was so fed up, and all he could think of was her and Axel had laughed at him and...
"We stole a couple of bottles of wine in the camp and woke up with these," Nyx admitted. Zofie's eyes grew big. "We... Axel and you?", she questioned. Nyx's lips curled upward. Zofie didn't need to hear him say it; she knew that she was right as it was, "Mom would freak out if she knew." Her voice was low as she shook her head. "Hence why you won't say a word," Nyx booed her nose, making Zofie pull back slightly with a scowl. "Are you okay to step out?", Nyx asked softly, his hands still holding her. He watched as Zofie slowly realized where they were. Water. Steam. Her frozen body feels limber. So she simply nodded her head.
They separated to change, but not before Nyx pulled out some of his clothes for Zofie to wear. "We can go back", her soft voice filled the main room of the cabin. This had to be the smallest house his parents owned. All it had was a rather big bathing chamber. A tiny kitchen and the rest of the place was occupied by the bed and huge windows. Nyx said nothing at first as he tossed some more wood into the fire.
"We're not going", his voice was calm and collected. Zofie crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I need to go home. Papa will be mad, and my mom just gave birth; it's not...", she rambled on, clearly getting frustrated by the situation now that her emotions had settled.
"Then why were you by the bank?", Nyx cut in quickly, making the girl in front of him stutter. Her eyes grew wide for a split second before she narrowed them down, "I could ask you the same thing." Here she was. His little flicker. Nyx smirked slightly, "Don't argue with me, darling." Pushing Zofie's buttons was one of his favorite things to do, ever since he learned that he could rile her up enough to make her cheeks heat with crimson he had used it to his advantage. She huffed at the nickname she hated. "Or what? You'll stomp your foot, and your dad will come running," she snarled. That line of frustration took over, but her soft heart was too gentle for this, so the moment the words left her mouth, her palm came up to cover her mouth.
"I'm sorry," Zofie muttered through her fingers. She knew that there were times when the princeling hated his relationship with Rhys. The court. The high lordship had put endless pressure on him while he was left to smile at it all. "My dad has been barking in my head every since I got you here," Nyx admitted as he walked closer to her, "But I ain't bringing you to anyone until you tell me what happened." His tone was soft. It was always soft when he was talking to Zofie. The girl let out a sigh. A deep one. A painful one and Nyx couldn't help but frown.
"Hey, you and I, remember?" The line had been a joke when they were little. The two had plotted to steal the rest of Nyx's birthday cake. It was a ride-or-die kind of deal. But the line stuck. And ever since, it has been Zofie and Nyx. She nodded at his words. But her mother stayed silent - still too exhausted to talk it out.
"Come on, lay down with me," Nyx muttered. He sounded desperate. Zofie shook her head immediately, "We can't. We shouldn't." Nyx knew that she mostly feared his scent mixing with hers. Their parents had lived long enough to catch them if they weren't careful. "Why not, as if I'm going to undress you and kiss you all over?", Nyx muttered with a smirk. Zofie let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Nyx," she muttered with a chuckle. "I made sure my dad heard that too", he whispered, and Zofie huffed in return. She knew that the high lord's family had mind-to-mind communication. "Nyx, for the love of mother, what sick joy do you have of pissing your uncle off?" She was well aware that both Azriel and Nyx had been snarling at one another for as long as she could remember. But in the past couple of years, it has grown increasingly worse. "Someone needs to keep him on his toes. Uncle Cass and da-Rhys had gone too soft," Nyx shrugged his shoulders as he tugged at Zofie's hand, pulling her closer to the massive bed.
"Come on, I don't bite," he said, urging her to follow him. "I can smell your magic on you," Nyx muttered as she climbed in next to him. She had always been a massive cuddle bug. He had always hated it. His mom had smothered him without stopping. Rhys was no better. The older he got, the more suffocating it became. "Is that bad?", Zofie asked, pushing her long black hair over one shoulder. Nyx loved her hair—not just her hair, but...Nyx, composure tactics?
"You're stressed and sad, so you smell like a rotten grape," he breathed out jokingly. Zofie gaped at him. "Oh, fuck you," she huffed, turning to get out of the bed she had only settled in, but Nyx caught her hand with ease. "I'm kidding, Sunny", he breathed out with a chuckle, she didn't fight him on it. "You're so childish...", "I thought you liked your boys wild," Nyx winked at her, making Zofie shake her head.
"Can you at least let your dad know that we are okay so my mom doesn't have to worry?" His lover girl, aways think of others. Nyx tugged her one more time, enough this time for her to settle against his chest. "Believe me, he knows." Nyx was rather surprised as to why Rhys hadn't shown up. It would take him no effort to winnow here. His wards were triggered when Nyx entered the cabin, so the high lord wouldn't even have to spend time wondering where they went.
"When are you going back?", Nyx drew his attention back to the girl when her voice filled the quiet space. He also knew what she meant. Back to the camp. If not for YN going into labor, they wouldn't have been back at all. They still had a week there before the break. "Not sure; family emergencies can earn you a couple of days," he breathed out. The weight of Zofie against his chest felt so soothing. She nodded against his chest. Her eyes were no longer open. Her body slowly eased, and once her last bits of self-restraint began to fade, Nyx felt that overwhelming pinch, and the emotions that slipped past her shields poured right into him. Nyx closed his own eyes, letting the sensation ease. "That will do," Zofie muttered, her hand moving to lay on his side, right over the tattoo she had discovered today. "It'll have to, sunshine. We will have to make it count," Nyx muttered, leaning to press a loving kiss to her forehead before the two drifted off to sleep.
Azriel's POV:
He had been on edge for a while. You had been laboring for the past two days before the baby was finally here. No one had prepared Azriel for the fear that would be eating him alive while he watched you labor. You were a fighter. Always had been, but even you couldn't hide the agony. The white, cotton-like snow fell heavily on the grass outside. Such a calm season for such madness to be unfolding. Never had he thought that he would have a winter baby.
Azriel felt so fulfilled as he held Novie in his arms. A father. He felt so blessed to be in a position where you two could conceive. You both knew your chances of getting pregnant were higher based on the fact that you both had Illyrian blood running through your bodies. At least partly. Hence practically no trouble doing so, and well, the practice weeks, as Azriel loved to call them, hadn't stretched all that far.
Now she was here, and she was perfect. Another perfect girl. Her tiny, black-feathered wings were tucked against her back. She was a perfect mix of you both. Azriel had held her for hours before he made his way downstairs. With you asleep and the baby in Axel's arms, he needed a moment to breathe and eat, considering that he hadn't swallowed a single bite in quite a while. That's when he found his mother with troubled eyes. Cassian was standing there too. The protector within the spymaster stirred. And all hell broke loose when Cassian finally spoke.
"Rhys, I swear to fucking holy mother," Azriel had winnowed straight to the river house. "Pour yourself some scotch," Rhys pushed the glass bottle toward his brother. He would celebrate the birth of his daughter if his first daughter wasn't missing. "Fuck yourself with your scotch," Azriel growled, leaning forward. Rhys held his gaze before bursting into fits of giggles, "Well, aren't you a walking ray of sunshine?"
Azriel growled. He wondered how he would cover up the murder of the high lord if he had to and who would side with him when his last straw would break. "Tell him to bring her back," Azriel pointed a warning finger at Rhys. His nephew had gone too far. Way too far. It was one thing to bump into Zofie. Another thing was to kidnap her. Well, he hadn't kidnapped her exactly, but it was close to it. Semantics.
"Azriel," Rhys breathed out. "They are safe," the high lord said reassuringly. "She's safest with me," Azriel bit back, feeling the anger simmer. Zofie had never done something like this. Hasn't just taken off running. What if she couldn't control her powers? What if something bad had happened? And what had happened to make her do something like this?
"Well, considering that she ran away," like a bull's eye, Rhy's words hit the target. "Don't you give me shit for it," Azriel growled every word in a warning, his wings spreading behind him, and Rhys instantly stood to match him. God, if you were here, you would call them fucking peacocks.
"Yn is asleep; she won't know that Zofie isn't spending a night in the house," Rhys said firmly. And fucking thankfully, you were asleep because there was no way Azriel was going to let you worry about this. This had to be fixed. Fixed before you felt that something seemed off.
"Rhys," Azriel pleaded this time. "Azriel, Nyx will never do anything to hurt her, and you know it," Rhys said in his deep, high-lord tone. No more games; he was just as pissed. "They are too young," Azriel muttered. Yes, they were almost certain the two of them were mates. Rhys had said that he saw the bond flicker a couple of times. But they were too young. This was moving too fast. Zofie had just had her first bleed. No way was Azriel letting that boy toy snatch her off like that. And who even knew if he was serious enough about her?
"They are young, yes, but they are both of age to start exploring," Rhys muttered, "Or are you planning on keeping that poor girl in a cage?" The room died down in a heartbeat. Azriel could see that Rhys regretted the last words as soon as they left his mouth. That topic was always gonna be painful for him. The way you were raised. The way you were hurt was always gonna be painful him. And to know that Rhys. Rhys of all people was referring to him in that way. Suggesting that Azriel was off doing the same thing... "Azriel, I'm", but before Rhys could even start to apologize, Azriel was gone.
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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi if you asked to be tagged and I forgot do let me know. ✨🤍
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