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nikethestatue · 3 months

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A Match Baked In Heaven

fun fact about this chapter: I had no plans to write this fanfic at all. It wasn't something that I had thought about or nurtured. All I wanted was to write a scene where Azriel baked Elain an ugly birthday cake that collapsed in the middle. That's it. That was the scene that I really needed to get out. Somehow, and I am still unsure how, this whole fic was born kind of around this one simple scene. Well, here it is. The scene that started it all. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter XIII

I’ll Be Your Man

Elain’s birthday was on a cold, blustery day, as it happened to be most years. At least Feyre’s birthday was on the Winter Solstice, so there was something special about the day. The longest night of the year. It was mystical and mysterious. There were Druids and Stonehenge rituals.

Elain’s birthday was uninteresting. No one cared about December 23rd.

No one, not one person, especially when everyone was reeling from Feyre and Rhysand surprise wedding, cared about Elain’s 28th birthday. Piglet might have cared, if he knew about it. But he didn’t, so that left the one and only person who gave a shit–Azriel.

Azriel was secretive, but adamant. He told her that they would be celebrating and that she was to come to his flat. Finally! Took long enough. He virtually moved in with her, and yet here she was, going to his place for the very first time. She was curious about how and where he lived. Canary Wharf wasn’t a place that she went to frequently–it was beautiful, spotless and soulless. Like the most perfect version of NYC. There were shiny skyscrapers, brilliantly green lawns, vividly blue water, a glittery mall, and none of it was Elain’s cuppa, because while there, you wouldn’t even know you were still in London. But it seemed like the perfect spot for a wealthy bachelor who spent a lot of time on the road and had more money than he had sense.

Elain dressed warmly and without fanfare because Azriel didn’t tell her to bring anything special and besides, she was feeling…out of sorts. She was restless, which was another word for ‘envious’. But she wasn’t envious! Of course not. She wasn’t envious of Feyre, who was MARRIED!!!! To Rhysand. It was something that Elain still couldn’t wrap her mind around. Feyre. Married. After 16 hours of knowing her now husband. Elain wasn’t envious. She wasn’t like Feyre, and she wouldn’t be able to take such a drastic step anyway. Not after 16 hours. Probably not even now. Though, she had to admit, when Azriel dropped to his knee before her, she felt…joy. Terror. But also joy. Mostly disbelief and happiness. But it was just a little game. Nothing more. That’s what people did with her–they played games.

She put a puffer coat and a bear hat on Piglet and off they went to the Tube station. He didn’t like the cold and attempted to turn back, but she tugged on his lead, making him walk.

“Don’t even start with me today!” she warned and he pouted, but ended up walking.

She was kind of in a bad mood, she supposed.

She was forgettable: the little, pretty, but pointless Elain. Her father rang her, and she received the usual £50. He wished her a happy birthday and told her to ‘make the right decisions’--whatever that meant. Nesta rang as well and informed her that she was going out on a date with Cassian. That was a surprise. Nesta tried to play it off, but Elain could feel that her sister was excited. Nothing from Eris. What a douche. She couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t even text her. They never even broke up officially. For all he knew, she was still his girlfriend. And yet, he didn’t even bother calling her on her birthday. Boorish oaf. Maybe she should just sleep with Azriel? She’s been putting it all off, the whole sexual part of the relationship, because of Eris. Because of her misguided sense of loyalty to him. But after Azriel’s kiss, she wasn’t sure if she could continue denying herself the pleasure that she’s been craving and also withhold affection from Azriel. It wasn’t fair to either of them and especially not because of Eris.

They got on the train and Piglet sat on Elain’s lap. Some people did a double take, thinking he was an ugly baby, but of course once they realised that he was a dog in a hat, riders started taking photos of him. Sometimes, having a celebrity dog was a pain in the arse. Then some girl told Elain that Piglet was ‘cute in an ugly way’ to which Elain snapped ‘well, I think he is cute in a cute kind of way’. The girl made a face and moved away. Good.

It took a while to get to Canary Wharf and by the time Elain and Piglet got off the train, it was just them and it was pristine and desolate here. She’d have to find how to get to Azriel’s building, and she wondered if she’d have to get an Uber. She had no idea where the hell she was and it was cold, and she was in a shitty mood. She was 28 years old. It all came down to that. She was 28 and except for her business, she had nothing to show for it. Well, that, and rescuing Piglet. There wasn’t a whole lot else to brag about. A failed engagement and a semi-ex-boyfriend who didn’t bother to wish her a happy birthday and from whom she’s not heard in ages. She was feeling so salty about it, so angry, she was surprising herself. She didn’t think of herself as such a bitter person, but she absolutely resented Eris lately.

She stood on the platform, figuring out where to go, when Piglet began to bark and pulled on the lead hard enough for her to let go. Before she could yell at him, she turned and saw Azriel Night standing by the doors, smiling. He held a huge bouquet–a stunning selection of pale pastel flowers which probably cost 500 quid.

Elain's birthday bouquet

“There is my beautiful birthday girl!” he greeted her.

And just like that, Elain’s unhappiness dissipated. Because there he was, the one who never abandoned her, the one who caught her every time even when she thought that she was falling, the one who never forgot about her.

“I am going to be like Feyre and say ‘give me hugs!’” Azriel joked, while receiving some serious side eye from Piglet. Chuckling, he added, ‘lil lad, we’ll discuss your hat later. You sure are ready for that snowstorm. But first, let me give my girl hugs!”

It wasn’t a hug that Elain received the moment she stepped into Azriel’s arms. He cupped her jaw in his cold hand and pressed his lips to hers, not allowing her even a moment to reconsider. It was an ‘Azriel kiss’--heavy and dirty, possessive and domineering. He didn’t do anything other than mould her lips with his, and rather gently pry her teeth apart, allowing his tongue full access and swiping in boldly, but as soon as those warm full lips of the slightly cruel mouth enveloped hers, Elain’s legs refused to cooperate. The gorgeous bouquet got half smashed in the crook of her elbow, as she clung to Azriel’s shoulders, holding on to him for support. His arm landed on the small of her back, pressing her tightly to himself, and the other squeezed the back of her neck, while he kissed her hotly, his mouth firm, taking from her, while filling her lungs with his breath.

She pulled back a bit and moaned, “Az,” but he shook his head stubbornly and reminded her,

“You said I can kiss you any time, anywhere. This is it. I am kissing you when I want to.”

“Okay,” she nodded frantically and he returned to her lips, kissing her with needy urgency, like she was the finest thing he’d ever tasted.

Piglet meandered in between their legs, bored, and kept giving them judgy looks. But not as judgy as some old woman who walked past them and hissed, “there is a time and a place for these things!”

That pulled Elain back and Azriel glowered at the woman in a manner that had her skittering away in a speedy manner.

“Let’s go, birthday girl,” Azriel draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Let’s go lumberjack pug,” he whistled to Piglet, who trotted happily next to him, eager for less kissing but more adventures.

“So, what are we doing?” Elain asked, as she dared to wrap her arm around his waist. Azriel chuckled and said, “I am not telling you all my secrets, pretty girl. There will be surprises,” he promised.

Elain winced and he laughed at her reaction.

“Have I ever disappointed you?” he inquired.

Elain thought about it. Actually thought about it for a moment, before realising that he never, in fact, disappointed her at all. He was impossible, hair-raising, incorrigible at times–more times than she cared to admit, but he was also never disappointing. He loved Piglet. He was good with her sisters. He was good around the house. He cooked well. He had a hilarious sense of humour. So basically, he was great and she loved him.

“No,” was all she answered.

Azriel hummed, like he suspected that there was more to her laconic answer than met the eye, but didn’t push.

They walked through what looked like an office building lobby–this place made no sense to Elain!--and then outside. Azriel pressed a key fob and a Range Rover came to life across the street.

“No Dev?”

“Nah, it’s just you and I today, sweetness,” he promised and for some reason that made Elain blush a bit.

He always managed to make the most innocent comments sound titillating.

“Are you excited to be all mine for the day?” he asked, opening the car door for her.

“And what are you planning to do to me all day long?” she quipped, while he cupped her bottom in his hands, completely unnecessarily, and helped her up.

“You know, I can do it myself!”

“I am a gentleman after all,” he winked at her. “And it’s your birthday. If you need help with anything, you just let me know! I am excellent at assisting with bathing for example. Dressing, oh, and undressing. Tucking in. Tucking out.”

“Oh lord, this is going to be a long day,” she moaned, while Piglet struggled to get up into the large vehicle, and was getting more and more agitated by the moment. Azriel was laughing softly, watching him struggle.

When Piglet was about to ram the car with his head, like an angry bull, Azriel swiftly grabbed him and said, “Calm down. You think you are one of the Avengers because you go to the park, bark at big dogs and small childs, but you are just Pinky the Pug.”

Elain snickered, but then gasped, when Azriel placed Piglet in the back seat, into a new, lavish doggy car seat.

“Is that for him?” she exclaimed, wide-eyed. Azriel deposited Piglet into the seat, attached his harness and pushed him closer to the window, so he could look outside.

“Well, it’s not for Cassian,” he shrugged, “so I suppose it’s for him.”

Azriel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed of the praise and Elain’s excited reaction.

“You love him,” she murmured.

“Who, Cassian?” he tried to deflect with a joke. “Yeah, he is my brother.”

She didn’t respond but only watched him get into his seat and start the car.

“You are a good man, Azriel Night,” she said quietly, as they pulled into the thin traffic. There were hoards of people going into the mall, and Azriel drove away as quickly as he could.

“Yeah, well…” he shrugged, “only for you, I think.”

“I don’t think so,” she argued absently, looking at the shiny skyscrapers outside. “I think you are very nice. To everyone.”

“Ha! Not true, but I’m enjoying this rosy image of me that you’d painted in your head.”

She looked at him, but didn’t say anything. Because she knew what she knew, and this was a remarkable man and no one was going to change her mind about that.

Azriel drove away from the river, ably navigating between cars and holiday shoppers, and getting away from the modernity of the towering buildings and into more industrial and residential areas.

“So, what are we doing?” she asked eagerly.

“Not gonna tell you.”

“It’s my birthday! You have to,” Elain complained. “Are we going to go to dinner?”

“No, that’s predictable. And it’s not even noon yet. What dinner?”

“No dinner?”

“No dinner,” he confirmed.

“Am I going to get presents?”

He bubbled his lips, but then said, “yes. You will get one gift.”

“That’s it?”

“What if it’s a diamond ring?” he mused.

“Eh, it’s not! You aren’t Rhys, who is out of his mind.”

“I am not sure it’s a compliment,” he glared at the road ahead, miffed by her comment. “You make it sound like I don’t have the bollocks to propose to you?”

“Oh I think you have all the bollocks,” she assured him.

“I am wondering if you have the bollocks to say ‘yes’.”

Elain bit her lip and didn’t answer.

But for Azriel, it was answer enough.

He drove in silence–the atmosphere a bit tense between them. Piglet was panting in the back, obviously enjoying himself tremendously in his new seat, feeling like he was part of the gang.

“You can have two gifts,” Azriel suddenly said, interrupting the silence. It was as if he’s been thinking about this second gift for a while.

Elain turned to him, and smiled happily, “yeah?”

He shrugged,

“Yeah, I suppose, since it’s your birthday. You can have two presents.”

“Oh, very generous of you,” she joked and then added, “I like it here,” her head swivelling this way and that way, as she beheld the older buildings, the rougher, less modernised and glitzy part of the Wharf. Azriel already knew this about her–Elain loved London. Loved it. She knew it extraordinarily well, always peppering their walks with fun facts about various odd buildings. She loved old London especially, and he recalled how on the way to Camden the other night, she kept pointing out things that none of them knew anything about. It fascinated him–how knowledgeable she was, and how much she appreciated and loved this town. For someone who didn’t drive, she sure navigated the place with ease. She also knew all the old timey places to eat, old pubs, pie shops, obscure stores and places where they still required a smoking jacket, and where they made bespoke items. Of course after meeting her father, it wasn’t terribly surprising. The man wore a dinner jacket even if he dined alone.

They stopped at a red light.

“Az?” Elain said softly.

He turned to her, “yeah, baby?”

Without warning, Elain reached over the console and cupped his jaw in her hand. She leaned deeper into him and pulled his face close, her chocolate brown eyes skimming over his features with quiet, genuine admiration. And then she pressed those sweet, pillowy lips to his. The honeyed taste of her, with a hint of vanilla hit him hard. Because she kissed him like she couldn’t wait anymore. As if every moment that they’ve been driving, she just waited to kiss him, to taste him, to be as close to him as possible. As if he was a compulsion that she needed to satisfy. Her palm held his face tightly, steadily, the thumb stroking his cheek with possessive gentleness, but also urgency. Azriel fell into the kiss like he was a teen tasting his first woman–wholly and without hesitation, in an uncontrolled, wild way that Elain always made him feel. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but he literally felt their souls click together every time the two of them kissed. They fitted together like a key and a keyhole.

An irritated honking pulled them apart. Azriel was panting a bit, his eyes darker than their normal greenish-hazelnut colour, his gaze unfocused.

Elain licked her lips, blinking rapidly. She looked like she just woke up.

The light had long turned green.

“I couldn’t wait,” she confessed breathlessly.

He looked at her, not making any effort to actually start driving.

“I couldn’t wait,” she repeated, while he cupped her face in his big, gnarled hand. Rubbing his thumb over her lips, he murmured, “for what?”

“For us. To kiss you.”

A soft, pleased smirk touched his lips.

“You kissed me at a red light,”

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?”

“Do it again!” he ordered.

Elain laughed.

“The people behind will beat you up!”

“I don’t care. We have a vicious dog in the back,” he turned around and looked at Piglet, who blinked his big buggy eyes at him.

“Or not,” he concluded and then sped up down the street.

In about five minutes Azriel pulled to the curb and parked. Elain looked around, noticing some kind of Christmas market.

“Are we going to have hot cocoa?” she asked immediately and Azriel smiled at her. She really was a big baby sometimes.

“We can have hot cocoa,” he nodded, getting the dog from the back seat. Piglet snorted with displeasure, especially when he felt the cool nip of December on him and Azriel told him,

“You can stay here, if you’d like.”

To which Piglet immediately jumped out of the car. The enticing smells of fried foods, and the scent of a whole pork roast didn’t hurt either.

Azriel pulled his flat cap lower on his forehead, hoping that no one recognised him. Elain threaded her arm through the crook of his elbow and he took Piglet’s lead, and smiled to himself.

His little family.

He felt proper and genteel with Elain next to him. For someone like him, who wasn’t used to dating proper ladies and usually stuck with football groupies, walking around with Elain–his actual girlfriend–was a bit of a mindfuck. How did he even get Elain? That was still mind boggling to him. Whatever good he’d done in his life, which he felt wasn’t even very much, somehow got him rewarded with Elain. And he wasn’t going to question it or think too hard about his luck.

They queued in line for hot cocoa, which Elain had located incredibly fast and when it was their turn, Azriel ordered her the most elaborate concoction that he could find.

“Baby, don't fall into a diabetic coma,” he warned, handing her the drink. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she absolutely disregarded his cautionary reminder. For Piglet, he got a pup cup, because god forbid they’d be enjoying something and their chunky pug was left without a treat.

“So, why are we here?” Elain asked, though she insisted on stopping at every stall. In less than fifteen minutes, they already had a box of creme brulee doughnuts ‘for breakfast’--Azriel was doubting that the doughnuts would make it to tomorrow’s breakfast, but sure, hope springs eternal and all. They bought seven varieties of cheese–for some mysterious charcuterie board that Elain was planning on making. Azriel suspected that they’d eat the cheese between the two of them, with Piglet’s help, and without any board. She stopped by the oyster shucker and watched him with sadness in her eyes, because raw oysters and hot cocoa with whipped cream and caramel…well, even Elain couldn’t pull that off.

“Well, if you would stop pausing at every food place, we might actually get to our destination,” Azriel told her, before artfully sidling to her and licking a bit of whipped cream off her lip.

“Ugh,” was all she managed to huff before Azriel wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Elain was…effervescent today. Bubbly and happy and full of excitement and Azriel was feeling quite proud of himself. Granted, it didn’t take a lot to get Elain happy and smiling, but she truly came alive when they were together.

“My sweet girl,” he groaned against her warm, chocolate-scented lips. She was holding onto his neck, her grip tight and secure, because she wasn’t going to let him go.

“You kiss…” he mused, rubbing his nose against hers.

“What?!” she gasped. “It’s bad? I don’t kiss well?”

“No. You kiss wonderfully. Best kisses,”

“You lie!” she complained, but he shut her up pretty quickly with another kiss. Cradling her head in his palm, he moaned, a quiet and masculine groan escaping his lips as he guided Elain’s mouth with his own. He devoured her as he tended to do, hungry and intimately, knowing that he would probably never get enough of her deliciousness.

“You kiss with a desperation of love,” he told her simply.

Elain looked up at him, her hands wrapped around his neck.

“See, like this,” and he ran his fingers over her upper arm. “It’s genuine. It’s real. You are the most real person I’ve ever met, Elain.”

“I,” she began but he interrupted her.

“You are the only one who’d never needed anything from me, except for me. Don’t want my money. Don’t need my fame. Not even sure if you remember that I am a footballer,” he chuckled at that.

“I remember,” she pushed his shoulder playfully. “But it’s a job. It’s not who you are,”

��And for some unfathomable reason, you like who I am,” he told her.

“Why unfathomable?” she wondered, stroking the back of his neck gently. “Maybe you are just the one for me. My one and only. The one who was made for me, for whatever reason,”

“For whatever reason,” he echoed her, looking down at the lovely face, and then long locks under her knit hat, where fat snowflakes landed and disappeared just as quickly. “And you believe this? That I, a bastard born nobody, was made for you?”

“Is that what worries you?”

He shrugged, and said quietly, “Maybe.”

“You are a made man. That’s what matters to me. You achieved your own success and carved your own path due to your talent and your tenacity. Not inherited money. And believe me, we’ve had some bastards in the family as well,” she winked at him. “Ask me to tell you about my great-great-grandmother Miss Elain Archeron and the Duke of Velaris.”

“Oh yeah, the Banging Granny Elain!” Azriel laughed. “I do want to hear more,”

Elain cocked her brow at him, “Is that what we are calling her?”

He gave her a peck on the lips and said, “Seems fitting. Come on!” he pulled her alongside him and in the next moment, Elain ended up standing in front of rows of Christmas trees.

“No!” she gasped.

“Yes,” he grinned. “I told you that you will be getting a tree this year. So, let’s go and choose one and then we are going home to decorate.”

Piglet felt that dad’s flat was pretty nice.

Piglet offered his opinions on which tree to get, which were unequivocal, especially because his Elain couldn’t even make a decision! She walked from tree to tree, touched them all, tried to reach the top, and did all kinds of other silly things. If he was going to be honest, Piglet felt that his Elain was spending way too much time next to every tree, and even more time kissing dad. Frankly, now that they started kissing, they just did it too much and wouldn’t stop. It’s like they’d rather kiss than do anything fun, or play with him. Which obviously made little sense, because why would you even need this many kisses and any normal human would rather spend time with him, or any dog, than kissing. Clearly, they also needed help choosing a tree, so Piglet did his due diligence–unlike them–and after an unnecessary long time spent in the cold, they finally packed the tree, wrapped it and then dad and his Elain took the tree back to the car.

Doing the Lord's work. Piglet choosing a Christmas tree.

Piglet had no choice but to walk in front, dodging endless admirers, who wanted to take a photo of him, and lead the way back to the car. This market was nice, he had no complaints, but it was cold and he was ready for some snacks and a snooze.

Watching the two humans wrangle with the tree once they got to the car made Piglet think that in fact, they weren’t very smart at all. Dad was holding the trunk, hauling it up to the roof, almost succeeding, until the tree slipped from his grasp and almost clunked dad on the head. Then Piglet, being a good boy and sitting quietly and calmly on the cold ground, watched his Elain climb on top of the front of the car, almost falling off, because it was slippery, but then grabbing the top of the tree, while dad picked it from the bottom yet again. Piglet was a two year old dog, and even he knew that his Elain was bound to slip and fall on top of the car’s hood, since she wore booties with heels. You didn’t need to be human or smart, to know that. But these humans weren’t very smart. Humans also didn’t care that the tree branches cut them and slapped them in the face–apparently, they were having so much fun, that his Elain almost fell off the car again, though dad was there to catch her this time. She fell into his arms, laughing uproariously and then there was even more kissing. Dad pressed her into the side of the car and his hands slid under her jacket and he definitely squeezed her titties, while he kissed her, but…she seemed to like it and didn’t protest at all. After what seemed like an eternity of kissing and sucking on each other’s necks (about four minutes), Piglet had no choice but to bark politely, reminding them of his existence. Also, he had balls, and they were about to freeze to the ground, which he wasn’t too excited about. At last, they wrapped the tree with ropes, and Piglet was able to finally, finally get back into the warm and comfortable seat in the car.

“This is impressive,” Elain marvelled, once they stepped into the glitzy lobby of the skyscraper which Azriel called home. There was something to be said about living in a place like this, with all the amenities and a concierge downstairs, who attempted to make a face at Piglet’s presence, but seeing Azriel, thought better of it.

“Mr. Night, good evening. Pets aren’t allow-,” the man began, but Azriel waved him off and said, “he is her emotional support dog.”

That made Elain sound a bit nuts, like she couldn’t step away from her dog, but if that allowed Piglet to get into the building without much trouble, then so be it.

The two of them were dragging their tree between them, which caused the poor, snooty man to wrinkle his nose at the mess of pine needles that they were leaving behind.

“Mr. Night, we can have maintenance personnel bring the tree up to your flat,” the concierge offered weakly, watching with alarm how the shiny floor was now stained with their footprints, Piglet’s little paw prints and pine sap and needles.

“No need,” Azriel told the man, his tone blase.

“Can you at least take the maintenance lifts?”

Azriel paused and then slowly veered away from the lobby lifts.

At that, Elain dug in her heels and stopped.

“Pardon me,” she asked dryly of the man, “isn’t Mr. Night a resident here?”

“He is, Miss…”

“I am Lady Elain Archeron,” she said imperiously. “And I believe that if Mr. Night is a resident, who owns his flat in the building and probably pays a considerable amount in monthly fees, he shouldn’t be directed to a maintenance lift, as if he were a cleaner or hired help?”

“Miss, I did not,” the man stumbled, but Elain interrupted him,

“It’s Lady Elain. And I think that you did mean it. You didn’t want to clean up a few pine needles, so you thought that it would be appropriate to direct a resident to some shitty, as Americans call it, elevator!”

Azriel gawked at her and her indignation. Piglet stood there, head raised up, looking pretty proud of his Elain.

The thing was that no one, except for Cassian, really ever stood up for Azriel. Azriel had been severely abused as a child, the burning of his hands not even the worst–though the most visible–reminder of his awful upbringing. Not until Lord Darling stepped in to adopt his wife’s blood nephews that anyone gave two shits about Azriel.

But his girl–she gave a shit. She cared. Azriel began moving where he was told to go out of habit. He hated that about himself, but it was ingrained in him–to be treated as someone lesser, as someone insignificant and unworthy of respect or attention. But Elain grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

“Of course, Miss…Lady,” the concierge was flustered. “I apologise. Happy Christmas. I hope not hard feelings,”

“That’s up to Mr. Night,” she cut him off.

Azriel finally took pity on the bloke and said, ‘no hard feelings’.

They dragged the tree to the lift, and Piglet parted ways with the concierge by letting out a loud fart.

“Wow,” Azriel laughed, shaking his head, once the doors closed, “that was cold, Pink. Real cold.”

Then, he cupped Elain’s face in his hands and asked, “are you my girl?”

Elain gave him a quizzical look and said, “I suppose I am.”

“Because I think that you are. And I think that you are fucking amazing, matchy. Also, when you started dropping ‘I am a Lady’ down there, I got hard.”

“Oh my god. You are a psycho.”

“A hard psycho,” he agreed.

They carried the tree out to the hallway and Azriel stopped by the door and said,

“Well, home sweet home, babygirl.”

He swiped a fob and the door opened for him. Elain almost made a step, but he caught her around the waist and said, “nope!”

Piglet had no such qualms and ran inside the flat, while Azriel lifted Elain in his arms, surprising her and then carrying her over the threshold. She felt like a soft, pale, golden mass in her arms, and her golden-brown hair resembled golden threads against the blackness of his coat. He kissed her gently, before setting her down.

“It’s almost like I am your bride,” she said shyly, holding onto his hand.

“You are my bride. You just don’t know it yet,” he said firmly and kissed her again.

Piglet was zooming around the massive open space that was the penthouse. Because that’s where they’d arrived, into a dimly, but artfully lit penthouse on the 37th floor. There was almost a 365 degree view and floor to ceiling windows. Elain let go of his hand, mesmerised by the stunning views of London outside. She dropped her bouquet on the chair and rushed to the windows. It wasn’t a beautiful day–the skies were the colour of wet cement, thick clouds hung so low, the top of the Shard was completely hidden, as was the magnificent dome of St. Paul’s.

“I cannot believe this!” she cried out, running from window to window, while Azriel dragged the tree into the house. “Look, look! You can see Tower Bridge! You can see the Gherkin! You can see Greenwich!”

Azriel smiled at her wild enthusiasm, which only rivalled Piglet’s, who already got himself acquainted, sniffed everything, easily found the kitchen and took a stroll there, examining whether it had fun and tasty things in it.

“Pinky, come here,” Azriel called, while removing his coat. “Let me undress you.”

The moment Piglet’s hat and coat were off, he made his way to the dog bed by the window, climbed into it and curled comfortably inside, looking like he wasn’t about to leave any time soon.

“Sweetness, may I take your coat?” Azriel laughed, because Elain paid him no attention, as she kept poking her finger at the glass.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said absently, and Azriel actually had to come and pull the coat off her, because she was not interested in disrobing.

“Well, whenever you are ready to turn around, I am here,” he called out and went to unload all their food stuffs from the fair. He already had a stand for the tree, which he prepared in advance, and now he placed the trunk inside, securing it well, because somehow, he suspected that Piglet would try something stupid–like topple the tree for fun.

At last, once everything was in its place, he took out a bottle of Bollinger from the fridge and set two crystal coupes on the counter. Elain migrated to yet another window, unable to tear her eyes away from the view, as if he was charging her by the minute to look outside.

Azriel wiped his hands on his trousers and exhaled quietly.

He was a little nervous.

Okay. He was quite nervous.

It was Elain’s birthday and he wanted everything to be perfect.

He knew that Rhys’s and Feyre’s marriage rocked both sisters to their very core, and truth be told, both he and Cassian were also completely shocked. But he sensed that somehow, it was harder for Elain to accept. Elain, the romantic, the matchmaker, who sought love in all things and who thought that with love, all things were possible. He knew that she was happy for Feyre, but unsurprisingly, there was a kernel of envy in there too. He was a bit envious too–or rather, he was miffed–that Rhys beat him to it. He’s been with Elain for months now, and he should’ve been the one to pop the question first and to marry first. Now, that first was stolen from him, and it annoyed him.

But, whatever was done, was done, and he couldn’t worry about it. Rhys’s story was his own. Azriel had his own story to live and Elain was his priority, And he didn’t want to mess anything up, especially not today. Elain wasn’t expecting anything from anyone, having told him before that her birthdays were always low-key, half-forgotten affairs. Add to it her sister’s surprise nuptials, and…well, he felt that Elain needed to be loved today. Cared for more than any other day. And therefore, he was nervous.

He turned on some music–Dave Brubeck’s Take Five–and then popped the champagne, quietly, but still startling Piglet out of his blissed out state. The pug jumped up and barked at Azriel angrily.

“Sorry matey. Go back to sleep. This is for our girl,” Azriel told him, while Elain finally turned away from the window and looked at him. But Piglet let out another bark, and Azriel told him sternly,

“If you are going to bark, you will be evicted from here. Do you understand? We already smuggled you into the building because you are a contraband pug. If you want to go and sleep in the car in the garage, then please continue barking. Be my guest.”

Piglet gave a disbelieving huff of indignation at Azriel’s threats and the prospect of sleeping in the garage and burrowed deeper into his new soft bed, turning away very demonstratively.

Azriel smiled at the ridiculous pug and then turned his attention to Elain.

“Hey beautiful,” he smiled at her, walking with two champagne glasses. “Happy birthday.”

But instead of taking the coupe from him, Elain basically rammed into him, almost forcing him back a step and wrapped her arms around his waist, hiding her face in his chest. He stood there awkwardly holding two glasses, careful not to spill champagne all over her.

“Hey, hey,” he called out gently. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s amazing,” she sobbed into his chest. “Everything is. Everything is brilliant and perfect!”

“Well, that’s good innit? Better than everything going to shite?”

“Yes, but it’s the best day!”

“We didn’t even do half of the things I had planned,” he reminded her, while kissing the top of her head.

“I don’t care!!!” she cried. “It’s already the best birthday I’ve ever had!”

“Well, then that’s exactly what I wanted. Now, wipe your snotty nose and drink some champagne,”

“You are so rude!” she complained, while pulling away from his chest at last and wiping her nose with her fist.

“Oh you know I am!” he handed her the glass. “To the best birthday girl in the whole wide world!”

He clinked his glass to hers and they drank the cold, sharply tangy champagne.

“So…” Azriel asked like he was contemplating various options, “do you wanna make out? Or do you want to decorate the tree? Or do you want your birthday present?”

“Hmmm,” she thought and looked around.

Azriel’s place was predictably massive. It was all one enormous open floor plan, decorated in beiges, blues and greys. The colours of a modern bachelor who had a lot of money. He made the place his own with the addition of books, some photographs–mostly of him and his brothers–but it was definitely a place that was decorated for him, and not by him.

New money. Not the lived-in, comfortable, comforting luxury of Elain’s townhome. However, to her personal secret relief, Elain noticed that there were definitely no traces of any ‘woman’s touch’ in this place. She was sure that it was cleaned by a professional crew, but nothing that said that there was a female frequenting Azriel’s penthouse.

“Did you buy this for him?” she asked quietly, seeing not one, not two, but three dog beds all positioned in different corners of the flat. Each one had a different pile of toys around it. In the kitchen, there was a pair of dog bowls sitting inside a cleverly designed lower cupboard.

“Yeah,” Azriel followed her gaze, and pointed to a lever on the floor. “He just has to press it and it will pop out. Neat, huh?”

“No, you got all of this for him?” she insisted, looking up at him and forcing him to look back at her.

“Well, yeah…”

She didn’t say anything, but looked back expectantly, waiting for more.

“He is part of the family. He gotta be comfy too.”

“Thank you,” Elain took his hand and pressed it to her lips, causing him to shudder…because, well it was his hand, and she was kissing it like it didn’t matter that it was all covered in scars and burn marks. And it didn’t. Azriel knew with utmost certainty that to Elain, it didn’t matter. “Thank you for everything,” she added.

“It’s no bother,” he insisted stiffly. “Now then, what’s your decision, birthday girl?”

“I want my present,” she decided, “and then we are going to decorate the tree, and all of that while making out!”

Azriel grinned.

“Smart girl, matchy. Smart girl.”

She flipped her hair and nodded in agreement.

“Go sit down and close your eyes,” Azriel instructed, pointing to the sofa.

Elain skipped across the floor, making him chortle, and then plopped down on the sofa and closed her eyes.

“Is it a good present?” she asked.

“I hope so!”

Elain listened to Azriel shuffle something around and then the sofa dipped under his weight. He placed something on her lap. A box.

“Can I open?”

“Go ahead and open!”

It was a medium sized box, entirely too big for a ring. Though, maybe Azriel decided to go the Rhysand route and just get her a tiara. But, unless it was the crown jewels, the box was too heavy for a tiara. It was pink, beautifully, professionally wrapped with a huge bow.

There was a card stuck beneath the ribbon and Elain opened it first.

Hey my matchy,

You are my sunshine. You make everything better. You gild the world with joy. Never change. I only ask for you to love me.

Have a wonderful birthday and thank you for allowing me to be part of it.

Irreversibly yours,

Your footballer

And then Elain drowned in a flood of tears.

“Oh yeah, that worked!” Azriel snickered, as he began kissing her with a near abusive passion, ignoring the salt of her tears, his mouth indulgent and almost perverse on her swollen lips, which puffed up so very sexually from all the attention that he’s given them today.

“What worked?” she breathed, while he pulled her lower lip between his teeth, licking on it softly.

“The fancy words, of course,” he explained lightly, cupping her breast in his hand and squeezing tightly, making her whimper. “I know what works on you, pretty girl.”

“Asshole,” she hissed.

Azriel exploded in laughter and pulled away from her mouth, though his hand migrated under her jumper and he found the thin lace of her bra with his fingers, as he lightly caressed the warm skin of the top of her breast.

She didn’t tell him to stop, but only moved a bit closer, and then began to unwrap the box.

Hearing the ripping paper and seeing the ribbon woke Piglet up from his rest and he ran over, to see what was happening.

Once the box was open, Elain took out a beautiful cup. Not a mug. But a large round teacup, with a saucer, the rim gilded with gold. It was hand-made, she could see that, and if she had any doubts, the writing made it quite clear.

It said Elain on one side. Other other side, it said Fucking Lovely as Fuck.

All written in a beautiful cursive.

“Ahh-hh,” she stuttered, looking at the cup.

Azriel was grinning joyfully.

“You like?”

“Hmm. Yes?” she stated politely.

He laughed. Then he leaned and kissed her cheek, nosing into her soft skin.

“I love making my little princess uncomfortable!”

“That’s mean!”

“I am a mean bloke, what can I say?!” he shrugged. “But we’ll keep this mug our little secret. It will be your mug here. We won’t show it to anyone.”

She wrapped her fingers around it and asked, “Did you make it for me?”

“Obviously,” he chuckled.

“Okay. Well, I love it then.”

Only he. Only Azriel Night could make the most inappropriate gift somehow romantic and beautiful. And Elain loved him for it.

Azriel had seven boxes of Christmas tree decorations.

That’s more than Elain had. This was a Windsor Castle-level of the number of baubles, balls and figurines that the boxes contained. They were stunning too–expensive and gorgeously painted and decorated, some artisan, some antique, some clearly from other countries.

“I love Christmas,” he confessed, as they opened the boxes, looking a little bashful about it. “It’s the only bit of happy memories that I have from my childhood…Opening up the boxes once a year, and seeing the old ornaments–they were like family. They were my mum’s mostly…”

His voice trailed off and Elain did not press him for more information.

From what she could gather, his mother came from a good family, and had a sister, who ended up marrying Lord Darling, who apparently saved her from an attempted rape. Azriel’s mother’s fate was not as happy. She’d met his father, who was wildly possessive and abusive to her. Azriel was born soon after their meeting, and was used as a pawn in their tug of war. To keep being in Azriel’s life, his mother agreed to stay with her nightmarish partner. Cassian was the result of marital rape, and was born a year and a half later.

Today wasn’t the time for those memories.

Azriel had another bottle of Bollinger chilling in an ice bucket by the tree, and they cut up all the cheese that they bought at the fair, though Elain insisted that it had to be placed on a board. Azriel didn’t make cheese plates, because he was a MAN, but he did have a wooden cutting board, and that would have to do. So while he opened all the boxes, she busied herself with arranging the cheese, along with grapes–grapes? Azriel didn’t even know he had grapes!--and bread.

Piglet was partying so hard, chasing wrapping paper, diving in and out of boxes, going wild over tinsel, that at one point, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out for a moment. He stood there, dazed, for a few seconds and then collapsed on his side. Azriel had to go and pick him up and shake him until he came to. Then Aziel put him in time out, which Piglet didn’t particularly like, being cordoned off in the corner of the room.

“You need to cool off and think about your life choices,” Azriel told him.

Piglet didn’t want to think about his life choice at all. He ran in angry circles, until he exhausted himself and plopped down on the floor. Then Azriel brought him an amazing treat of banana and peanut butter, a ball and a chewy, and Piglet fell in love with time out. It was the best. All in all, as he considered his life choices, Piglet concluded that being wild is a good choice, since it resulted in banana and peanut butter treats.

Darkness was falling behind the windows by the time the tree was finally decorated. It was a gorgeous and gaudy monstrosity that Elain absolutely adored. She loved decorating the tree, loved the scent of fresh pine, loved stabbing her fingers with pine needles, and loved being next to Azriel the entire time.

Azriel, who was currently standing behind her, lightly rolling her thick, now-aching nipple between his thumb and forefinger, her breast nestled in his palm. He bit her ear, making her yelp, laughing low and hoarse against her neck, as he slid his cheek against hers, scraping her skin with his stubble before resting his chin on top of her head.

His other hand palmed her second breast, but this one was even bolder, as he slipped it under the jumper and beneath her bra. Those skilled fingers flicked her nipple, teasing it until she moaned so loudly that Piglet turned his head towards him.

“You like that, beautiful?” he asked.

“Yee-es,” was all she managed.

“It is a nice tree, innit?” he joked, squeezing her nipple mercilessly in his fingers.

“Oh my god,”

“Yes, Ellie. Your wish will be granted. What shall your god give you today?” he inquired.

“Oh shut up!” she tried to elbow him, but he easily twisted away, and then pinched her breast in punishment.

“If you are going to be mouthy like that,” he warned, his voice gliding over her skin like melted butter, “I will put you on your knees and will shut that smart mouth with a generous dose of my dick.”

Elain, unaccustomed to such talk–as if Eris would ever speak to her like that!--and loving it nevertheless, still gasped in shock.

“I…what? You can’t!”

“I can’t?” he challenged, squeezing the globe of her breast ever harder, smashing her soft flesh in his palm.

“You wouldn’t!” she tried again.

“Sweetness,” he dipped his face to her ear, and whispered warmly, “you will be sucking that cock like it’s your full time job. Those little knees will be bruised. You’ll be drinking milkshakes for a week once I am done with you. Choking and gagging and crying,”

She swayed against him and he caught her, banding his arm over her stomach and then declared,

“But first, I think we ought to have some birthday cake!”

Piglet was seething quietly.

How was it fair that he wasn’t allowed to bring one little stick into the house, but dad and his Elain brought a whole tree!!! And then they took out boxes of awesome shiny balls and wouldn’t even let him play with them. Not only that, they, for some stupid reason, put the shiny balls that he was supposed to play with all over the tree. How was he going to reach them now? He couldn’t climb a tree! He was a dog. Sizing it up, he figured that maybe he could knock it down, though that was kind of doubtful too. This whole situation was unacceptable. He wanted, no, he needed to destroy the balls! He wanted to run with them and then destroy them all. Like he did with balloons. Which he hated more than anything. Balloons and vacuums were the devils, the bane of his existence. Now, he had a whole tree of shiny balls to dismantle and he began plotting.

“Okay, don’t laugh,” Azriel warned.

Elain was still trembling, waves of arousal and desire sweeping over her entire body. Between her legs, she was sticky wet, hot and needy, and her nipples felt like they were as big as cherries, swollen and achy, poking at her sweater with pornographic obviousness. There was a decorative mirror tucked into a corner, and when she glanced at her reflection, she saw just how wantonly aroused she looked. There was no mistaking what was on her mind. And yes, her breasts looked bigger than normal, her nipples tauntingly obvious.

And Azriel, damn him, noticed it all. Oh yes he did. The insufferable smirk on his sensual mouth was all the evidence that Elain needed.

She squirmed in her seat, trying to adjust and crossed her legs tightly, in a vain effort to alleviate some of the pressure in her throbbing pussy.

“Something the matter, sweetness?” he asked casually. “You look a tad tense.”

“I am fine,” she snapped at him.

“Oh yeah? That’s good. Very good. But if you are, I can relieve some of the tension, should you ask me,”

“Nope. Nothing to ask. I am perfectly fine,” she assured him, her voice sounding a bit strangled. “Now, why shouldn't I laugh?”

He turned to her, and scrubbed at his chin, before explaining sheepishly,

“I baked.”

“You baked?”

“Yes. I thought it would be a good idea to bake…you a cake.”

“A birthday cake?” she guessed, falling in love with him all over again, even harder than before. He baked her a cake.

“Problem is, I am not much of a baker,” he admitted.

“I would’ve guessed.”

“The result is kind of,” he grimaced, “questionable. I realised too late that I don't know how to bake, that it’s harder than I assumed it would be, and that I am baking for a baker. So, if you don’t want it,”

“I want it!” she cried immediately. “I want it. Az, I want it more than anything!”

He gave her a doubtful look, but then nodded.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He took the cake out of the fridge–that’s what was under the cover–and shielding it with his body, he fussed with it a little, before announcing,

“Ready?!!”

“Ready!” she nodded excitedly.

He turned around, holding the platter in his hands, and began singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. The cake had a few lit candles in it.

He placed the cake in front of her and said, “make a wish!”

You.

Only you.

Only ever you.

Elain’s wish was simple. Him. She then closed her eyes and blew out the candles.

The cake was…fugly.

That was the kindest way to describe it. Chocolate, by the looks of it. It collapsed in the middle, had weird bulges and prolapses everywhere. Maybe he stepped in it at some point? That could explain its appearance.

“Sorry it’s so ugly,” Azriel considered the cake seriously.

“Don’t be silly. It’s fine!”

“You think it’s edible?”

“Only one way to find out,” she said enthusiastically. “But I am sure it will be great.”

‘Great’ was a strong term.

But it was edible.

At least around the edges.

That’s how they ate the cake. Azriel forgone plates and just gave her a spoon, while taking one for himself, a can of whipped cream, and they dug in, eating around the underbaked middle.

It actually tasted pretty good.

Maybe their match was indeed baked in heaven?

Because for a novice, he did very well on the taste. The chocolate was fudgey, pronounced, and he clearly dumped a healthy amount of rum into the cake, because it was boozy as fuck. But Elain loved it. They ate and ate, until there was nothing left but a congealed puddle of unbaked batter.

Leaning back in his chair, Azriel said, “happy birthday, Elain. I hope it was a good one for you. I tried.”

The tree sparkled and shone with hundreds of lights, mirroring the city outside. Snowflakes swirled behind the windows, falling into the darkness.

“It really was actually perfect,” Elain admitted.

He drummed his fingers on the table and pushed his tongue into his cheek.

“That’s good. There is one more gift I’d like to give you.”

“Oh yes!” she remembered. “The unplanned second gift. What is it?”

“I’d like to make you come,” he said simply.

Elain stared at him and then laughed softly,

“I mean, you don’t have to make me come. I can just come with you! It’s not a big deal.”

His eyes glittered with mirth.

She was something else.

“So, where are we going?” she asked again. “Are we taking Piglet?”

“Nah, sweetness. Piglet stays here.”

Azriel rose to his feet and extended his hand to her.

“Come with me, beautiful. I’ll take you to a place where you’ve never been before.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elain #A match baked in heaven #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #azriel and elain fanfiction #my writing #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #modern AU

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theladyofbloodshed · 3 months

Text

Chapter 20

It's super short but filled with drama to set up for the next phase!

With every hour that ticked by, Cassian urged Azriel to rip off the bandage to expose the wound so it could heal. He had always approached danger head on, never caring for the consequences but this was different. He had so much more to lose this time. Nesta would hate him for keeping this from her.

It was harder and harder to be near her without guilt strangling Azriel. That, and Cassian kept motioning that he’d tell her if Azriel didn’t get a move on.

On a quiet, sunny day where Elain had fallen asleep on top of the bed after lunch, Azriel led Nesta into the library although it felt like walking the gallows ready for the short drop. At once, she noticed a change in him and inquired after his wellbeing in that direct way of hers.

The flutter of Nesta’s pulse echoed in Azriel’s ears as she took a seat beside him. Sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, bathing her in a golden glow. Her knee knocked into his which he suspected was deliberate because she did not apologise or draw away, just kept it there, brushing his own. This unexpected ease around him would soon be fractured by his delivery.

With Cassian knowing about their mating bond, he was applying more and more pressure to tell Nesta before the poison was too deep to retract.

Her eyes were already weary, his summons setting off the alarm bell in her mind. ‘Is it Feyre?’

Nesta clung to the arms of the chair, knuckles white.

Azriel managed to shake his head. He swallowed, tongue catching against his dry throat. ‘I need to talk to you.’

This should have been a joyous occasion. In a thousand fantasies that Azriel had dreamt about sharing a mating bond, none of them left him so cold and afraid or bracing for rejection.

‘You are my mate.’

Nesta tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. ‘Mates?’

That silver stare pinned him to his seat even if every instinct was demanding he flee from the line of fire. His shadows knew to make themselves scarce for this. Nesta would make him say every damn word.

‘We share a mating bond. Just as Rhys does with Feyre. And Elain with-’

‘Do not say his name.’

Cowed into silence, Azriel dipped his head.

Nesta rose, a hand pressing against her rib, mirroring the pain he had felt for weeks before he’d realised. ‘How long?’

The temperature in the room dropped as she turned to face him.

‘It snapped the first time we met, but I swear I didn’t know.’ He rubbed his clammy hands down his trousers.

‘How long have you known?’

At his silence, Nesta reared back hard enough to knock the chair over. Azriel knew better than to reach for her.

‘All of it,’ she whispered. ‘All the kindness you gave to me. It wasn’t because you cared. It was because a damn faerie instinct made you do it. You care about consummating a bond, not me.’

‘That’s not true,’ he protested. Maybe at first that desire to see her fed and rested was initiated by the mating bond but he wanted a good life for her.

‘Liar,’ she snapped, venom seeping into her voice. ‘You only cared because you needed me whole for this ridiculous bond. Helping me, helping Elain… all because of a bond.’

This time, Azriel did stand. His head was swimming with dizziness from the power of the fury that leaked down the bond. A scarred hand reached for Nesta but she slapped it away.

‘Don’t you dare try and touch me again. The only motivation for you was to bed me – to breed me. That’s why I’ve been feeling this way. Why I ever let you in. Because magic made me.’ Her top lip curled from the anger running unleashed through her body. Face bone-white, Nesta stared at him. ‘You took me to your mother,’ she whispered. ‘She knew. She knew what we are. And you… you just played pretend. A sick fantasy where I was yours because magic deemed it so.’

Once more, he reached out a hand for her but it was slapped away again, this time with a screech.

‘Who knows? Who else knows?’

Azriel didn’t know how to fix this. He couldn’t let the bond fray. It was the only thing he’d ever wanted. Nesta was the only thing he’d ever wanted. When he stepped closer, Nesta hit him hard in the chest.

‘Who knows?’

‘My mother and Cassian.’

‘You told Cassian?’

The anguish in her face, her voice broke his heart.

‘He figured it out. He encouraged me to tell you.’

‘One of you has some fucking sense at least.’

Nesta hit him harder this time, the force likely stinging her palm. Azriel would take every hit she had for him if it absolved him of his guilt.

‘Don’t come near me ever again. I want nothing to do with you or your bond.’

‘Don’t say that,’ he begged, panic making his siphons flare.

‘We were made for each other. Fate has deemed me your equal.’

‘I am nothing like you,’ she said through her teeth. ‘I will never be one of you.’

The sound of the door opening hurriedly ruptured his disastrous conversation. Cassian wore his leathers, face readied for battle.

‘We need to go.’

Azriel was immovable. Nesta’s chest rose and fell rapidly like a beast waiting to strike to fight her way out. She was trapped there in the library with him beside her and Cassian blocking the door.

‘Az, now. Feyre is being hunted by the Vanserras in their court.’

Nesta straightened her spine and smoothed the down her skirts with both hands. She held her head up proudly as she held his gaze. ‘I will cut off my hands before I ever reach for you again.’

***

Even after the two pairs of black wings were winnowed from the skies, Nesta remained at the window, breaths coming shallowly. Each one sawed at her ribs, cutting at the strange knot she’d been feeling for weeks. It was a bond. A faerie mating bond. And all this time, Azriel hadn’t cared for her, hadn’t really been looking beneath the surface at who she was, all he had cared about was that his promised bride was shiny and whole again.

She raced to the bathroom to vomit.

All of the men that Father had trotted through the home to stare at her had been easy to put off. Not one of them had intrigued Nesta and it had brought great delight to be vicious and vindictive to them to put them off. This was all wrong. She had liked Azriel’s company, his attention. It had felt special when she’d been near him. She’d craved his intimacy, even. How many nights had she gone to bed thinking of the delicate touches he offered? He had her dreaming of quiet days spent with him and his mother at peace.

It was a lie.

All he had ever been driven by was a bond tying them together. He did not want her. He would never choose her. Fate forced him towards her. All she was to Azriel was the prize at the end of his magical bond - and Nesta didn’t know how to break it.

When she stopped shaking, stopped gasping over the toilet bowl, Nesta gathered herself and returned to the library. There had to be something amongst the stacks to free her from the bond. She would find a way to severe the mating bond.

#nezriel

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lorcandidlucienwill · 2 months

Note

Hi!! read some of the beaf that you had with some anons and honestly, i can kinda agree and kinda not agree.

(Let me first establish that I don't write lucien but if someone wants to diss him i will throw hands)

Okay, Azriel: Azriel's character and morals on a whole are questionable and not that great and a lot of shit that he's done especially with Elain is not...ugh just not it. Which is honestly why 70% of fanfiction I write is just ignoring canon or using his shitty character to create angst. He's hot, and the main reason I like him is because he's willing to risk his life for people he cares about. Does that excuse him from being biased and favouritism towards his brothers and Feyre? no. That's where delulu comes in and I erase that part of his character from my mind. So Azriel is the kind of character where since he does not exist I choose the parts of him I want to acknowledge and which parts I don't want to. Also, yeah, Elain should not be with him that dynamic is just...no.

Rhysand: I understand anti-rhysand just as much as I understand pro-rhysand. Both don't make sense to me, tbh i kinda ignored his existence his death did not affect me whatsoever and neither did his revival.

Cassian: He's...interesting. See I like the parts of his character where he's a goofy and funny dude but where it starts going downhill is he does his job with no questions asked and the way he treated Nesta is an ick. I'd like to be his bestfriend when it comes to his blatant sense of humour (not including when he pushed Nesta cause that's just plain messed up) but I would not want to be his lover. Not for a billion years.

In conclusion, get rid of Rhysand, teach Azriel and Cassian to have a backbone (or at least more of one), teach them how to have a guilty conscience, and also we need an Eris POV because I need to start justifying why I love Eris so much T^T My fics are honestly always reader leaves Azriel for Eris.

It's the Fae world. Everyone is "hot" so Azriel being "good looking" doesn't mean shit to me. If you mean his personality being hot? He has no personality aside from being delusional and crazy. Cassian I was cool with mostly until ACOSF. UGH I hate that SJM did that to Cassian because she wanted Nesta to wind up part of the Inner Circle. Rhysand? He's a dick in every sense of the word. The only way Cassian and Azriel could redeem themselves to me is if they destroyed Rhysand and his shoddy system, treat the Archerons right, and bow down to the king Lucien. For fuck's sake it's impossible to find a character who hasn't done Lucien dirty. Except maybe Tarquin or whatever. As for daddy Eris, this man could make Azzy PAY for how he treated Lulu. Lucien is too nice to do it himself. But Eris has no such qualms. Lucien and Eris together have too much power, that's why SJM hasn't had them made up yet 🔥🔥🔥 Anyway, the bat boys should just drop dread and Lucien should become High King. Eris can be his right hand man. Elain can be his High Queen and Nesta can be Eris's wife. Tamlin gets on his knees for Lucien who forgives him and adopts him as his pet dog. Feyre can go to therapy sessions with Thesan.

#i know this is probably not where you were going with this anon #but i love this #anon asks #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #tamlin #feyre archeron #thesan #elain archeron #neris #elucien #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti azriel #anti ic #anti inner circle

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witch-and-her-witcher · 19 days

Text

nessriel | E | hurt/comfort, modern AU - magic/CC inspired

Aux officer Cassian brings a stray home with him and he doesn't want to let her go. Lieutenant Azriel, and his life partner, thinks he has a bleeding heart and an undiagnosed mental health condition - until he meets Nesta Archeron for himself, sweating and vomiting through a self-led alcohol detox, and decides ... yeah, they should keep her. Nesta is at an all-time low, all her bridges burned, but she's going to pull herself together and try to keep her mess from spilling into these ridiculously gorgeous, kind-hearted Auxie's lives.

ao3

(Thank you @popjunkie42 and @thesistersarcheron for the support read throughs!)

For Day One: Beginnings of @polyacotarweek!

Chapters 1-3/9

Preview Below

~*~

Everything fucking hurts: Cassian’s knees are jammed up, his spine crackles along each vertebra, his balls feel like tenderized meat, and his godsdamn shoulder. Ripped out of the socket by a feral leopard shifter, high on pixie dust.

As if the hit that knocked him off of his feet wasn’t bad enough, the amount of paperwork he’d had to fill out because of the right hook he’d landed out of self-defense driven instinct afterwards was even more painful.

Cassian can feel the impact from his wing meeting with the concrete just as much as the strain in his neck from standing bent over the counter at the Aux.

Like the asshole knew how low tech they are.

“Mother fucker,” he mutters, slamming the unit door shut behind him.

He waits to hear the double beep of the lock before shoving the keys in his black jean’s front pocket and shuffling for the stairs to his apartment.

All Cassian wants is to get out of this fucking oppressive bullet-proof vest, kick off his boots, strip off his pants and sprawl on the couch with one hand down the front of his briefs and the other holding a cold beer. Put a game on. Maybe mess around with Az by sending him some dirty pictures.

An image of high cheekbones splattered with a dark flush, hot to the touch, flashes in his mind. Pupils blown wide and hand covering that seductive mouth to hide embarrassment.

Yeah, thinking about the pretty blush that will spread over his partner’s face? The way Az will jerk his head up to make sure no one saw … and then sneak another peek, maybe find an unoccupied room that doesn’t have cameras in it for some privacy?

Cassian grins wickedly.

He will definitely send dirty pictures.

Maybe after a beer or two, his shoulder won’t hurt so bad either and he can send a video tease. Get Az all worked up so he comes home in the morning ravenous, like a male possessed, ready to put Cass in his place for winding him up so tight —

A loud clatter right as Cassian rounds the stairwell to head up to the second floor cuts off his train of thought.

Engrained Aux training makes him hesitate.

Voices rise up behind the closest door.

Shit.

Apartment 132. A real sleazebag.

“— I’m a dirty whore? Yeah? Have you seen your fucking bed sheets?” A female’s voice becomes clear, growing louder along with heavy, slightly muffled footsteps on a carpeted floor. Drawing closer. “Learn how to do the laundry, you infantile asshole!”

The doorknob jiggles a few times along with a few incoherent curses before the door is wrenched open. Unsure what kind of scene is about to spill into the bottom floor of his apartment complex, Cassian holds still aside from his hand edging closer to his holster.

The female has her back to him, still yelling into the apartment with her middle finger in the air. “Your cleaning skills match the size of your cock, unsatisfact- ow!”

Cassian is braced for the collision course, but the female hasn’t been paying attention to anything but lobbing insults at the vampire arguing back half-heartedly from somewhere deeper in the apartment. She jumps as her bare shoulders connect with the kevlar covered metal plate on Cassian’s chest.

She whips around, hellfire seething from her. “Watch where the fuck you’re —”

The words die on her lips as she cranks her head up: taking in the uniform, the badge, the fucking Aux uniform aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of Cass’s crooked nose.

With his polished talons gleaming two feet higher than his nearly six-and-a-half-foot height, he knows he looks intimidating as hell.

Her gaze lingers on the breadth of his shoulders, the swell of his biceps under his shirt sleeves, the thick column of his neck.

Cassian also knows he looks fit as hell.

“Shit,” she curses, but it’s breathy enough to sound unintentional.

The vampire is quicker than a whip, tossing a purse onto the concrete and slamming his door shut. The contents spill out of the purse because he hasn’t bothered to close it: chapstick, a pack of gum, various IDs and brightly packaged condoms ‘ribbed for her pleasure.’

Sleazebag.

The purple-colored veteran Aux ID in the discarded pile catches his attention, but Cassian doesn't give away his recognition.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks, cocking one brow up.

The hallway is open-air, but it does nothing to reduce the scent of chain-smoked cigarettes and strong alcohol coming off of the female.

The drop-dead gorgeous female.

#poly+acotarweek2024 #nessriel #cazriel #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing #nesta x cassian x azriel

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

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Like Good Neighbors Do

A/N: It's officially the last day of @nestaarcheronweek. It's definitely sad to see a great week of content come to an end, but I hope everyone has enjoyed it as much as me :) @dustjacketmusings and the bookclub get full credit for this idea, and I would like to thank all 200 of you who voted in my poll to decide who should break their face. In the end, I did decide maybe they both should be shirtless after all ;) Enjoy!

Link to AO3

Cassian tugs at the waistband of his shorts, shifting and maneuvering the fabric until it lies just how he wants it across his hips. Low enough that it shows off his v lines, but high enough that he won’t get any angry calls from the Neighborhood Watch Group. He turns slightly in front of his bedroom mirror, examining how the hem of his shorts fall, admiring how the red fabric sits on his thighs. His quads are definitely on full display. It’s perfect. Maybe he’ll have to thank Mor for this Solstice gag gift after all.

He grabs a hair tie from his dresser, scraping back the curls of his hair and pulling them into a messy bun away from his face. He pads down the stairs and grabs his shoes next, lacing them up quickly and heading for the door. Before his hand closes around the doorknob, though, a thought strikes him. He quickly drops to the ground and does a dozen push-ups, rolling onto his back and doing a quick set of crunches next. He hops back to his feet, glancing down at his chest, his abs, flexing his arms to look at his biceps. It definitely did the trick. He’s ready now.

With a determined nod, Cassian yanks open his front door and jogs down the front steps of his porch. He turns right when he reaches the sidewalk, keeping his pace light, almost slow. He makes sure he keeps his head forward, doesn’t turn to look, doesn’t give himself away, no matter how much the desire to thrums beneath his skin. But he still checks, out of his periphery. He still waits to catch a hopeful glimpse of her staring.

Maybe today her jaw will slacken at his apparel of choice for his run. Maybe he’ll even get to hear the sound of her gasping softly floating on the breeze as he runs past her house. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, she’ll call out his name. He’d love to hear his name fall past those lips again. They can chat again. Start with menial stuff like the warm weather. Cassian can ask her what book she’s reading today. She’ll ask if he wants to come inside and—

Cassian is so caught up in the web of images his mind has begun to spin that it takes him a moment too long to realize that the porch next door is actually empty. She’s not there.

Nesta Archeron isn’t there.

Cassian stops and turns to face the house completely, frowning. It’s near identical to his own, pale blue siding to his yellow, and on her porch, a swing dangles from two chains hooked to the ceiling. And every Saturday, ever since the days have gotten longer, ever since the weather has turned from cold and biting to warm and breezy, Nesta has spent her afternoons sitting on that swing with her legs curled up and a book balanced on her knees. It’s given Cassian the perfect excuse to see her recently, to talk to her, to continue their neighborly games.

To say that Cassian has been a goner for Nesta Archeron since the day she moved in last fall, would be an understatement.

He still remembers that first day. He had seen the moving truck pull up first, and then he’d seen the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on. Her face was all cool and cutting angles, eyes piercing even from his window next door, a willowy dancer build clear beneath her sweater, as she strode up the front walkway of the house, shoulders back and head held high. Her hair looked like burnished gold in the low, autumn sun, braided around her head like a crown. And she had looked like a queen, barking orders to the movers about what to put where.

Cassian had walked next door the next day, ready to use being a good neighbor and welcoming her to the neighborhood as the perfect excuse to talk to her, to learn her name. She’d taken one look at the plate of cookies in his hand and asked him what was wrong with him, informed him that no sane person actually liked oatmeal raisin cookies. It had lit a fire that blazed through Cassian’s veins that he still had yet to douse, that left him going back for more. He lived for the spark that glinted in her blues before she rolled them. Lived for the way the corner of her lips would twitch up with a hidden smile before she scoffed. Lived for the teasing and the taunts and the way his chest felt the first time he made her laugh.

And now, she’s not even here to appreciate his outfit. Or lack thereof.

Cassian’s eyes dance around her porch, looking for a clue that maybe she just stepped inside for a moment, but there’s no book sitting on the swing, no glass sitting on the small outdoor side table. The only thing on Nesta’s porch is a small package placed just beside the door. It has Cassian’s frown growing. Maybe she’s not home?

With a soft sigh, Cassian turns back on the sidewalk, prepared to finish his run regardless, but he barely makes it a step before he recognizes the small, dark colored sedan in the driveway. It’s Nesta’s car, which means she’s definitely home. He glances back toward the front door again. Should he wait her out? He doesn’t want to look like a creeper, doesn’t want her to step outside just to see him standing here dumbly.

He huffs and shakes his head, picking up the pace and starting into a full run after all.

The entirety of the eight mile loop Cassian does on the weekend, he thinks about Nesta. Maybe she’ll be back out on her front porch when he heads back toward his house. Maybe it’ll be better if she sees him after his run anyways. He’s certainly worked up a sweat under the afternoon sun. He just hopes his hair hasn’t gotten too unruly and frizzy from the exertion. But of course, the entire idea relies on Nesta being on her porch when he gets back.

So as Cassian starts on the final two miles of his run, he starts to formulate a backup plan, starts to think about what he’ll do if Nesta isn’t on her front porch. It would be so easy, an easy story, an easy lie. She’d never know, and he could still talk to her today. By the time he’s jogging past Nesta’s still empty porch, the decision is made.

He takes a moment to breathe, to cool down his thundering heart after his run. One last deep, heaving breath, this one more for nerves than anything, and he rolls his shoulders, walking up the front path and the front steps to Nesta’s house. He glances over both shoulders, ensuring there’s no neighbors lurking, watching, and when he’s sure the coast is clear, he bends down and grabs the package waiting for Nesta. He tucks it neatly under his arm, clears his throat, and raises a fist, knocking on her front door.

Hello, Nes. Your package accidentally got delivered to my house.

Hey, sweetheart. Looks like the mailman got the address wrong.

I have your package. Can I come in?

As the seconds continue to tick by in silence, Cassian frowns. He tries knocking again, but still, there’s no answer. He leans over to peek in one of the front windows, squinting through the pane and trying to spot any hint of golden brown hair, of blue eyes.

“Nesta, it’s Cassian. Are you here?” Cassian tries calling through the door.

He waits another minute before stepping back down off the porch. He follows the large, round pavers that are inlaid in the grass around the side of the house. He’s just reached the fence that winds around Nesta’s backyard, reaching over the gate to unlock and open it, when he finally spots her.

Nesta has a blanket strewn out in the grass under the sun. She’s laying on her stomach, knees bent and legs swinging back and forth aimlessly while she reads the book perched between her hands. She has on a pair of black biker shorts, the fabric tight and short where it rides up her thighs. Cassian’s eyes trace the line of her body, along her legs, over her ass, up her back.

His attention snags on her hair, on the fact that her hair is down. It’s the first time he’s ever seen it this way, falling in soft waves over her shoulders and down her spine. It’s beautiful and steals the breath straight from his lungs, his heart skittering between his ribs. He wonders what it would take for Nesta to let him run his fingers through those strands.

Before Cassian can truly spiral about seeing Nesta with her hair down, she pushes up onto her left hand. She uses her right hand to brush her hair over her shoulder and to her back, and Cassian realizes that she isn’t wearing a shirt. She isn’t wearing anything other than those black biker shorts. He takes in her full breasts, the perfect size to fit in his large palms, and his mouth goes dry. He wants to feel the weight of them in his hands, wants to knead them, wants to get his mouth on those dusty rose nipples.

The next thing that Cassian knows, he’s losing his balance. He must have unlatched the lock without realizing, must have put too much weight onto the gate in his dazed state, because suddenly the ground is coming to meet him. He tries to splay his arms, but with the package still in his grasp, he can’t quite brace himself. His face smacks straight into one of the stone pavers, and Cassian swears that he can hear the distinct crunch of his nose. Pain flares and radiates across his face, and he lets out a pained groan, rolling onto his side and clutching at his nose.

“Cassian?”

Cassian blinks open his eyes to find Nesta now standing above him. She has one arm crossed across her chest, covering herself, her face bewildered as she stares down at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nesta demands, face twisting into a scowl.

“Package?” Cassian wheezes out, just the one word sending another jolt of pain through his face. He pulls himself up into a sitting position, blood beginning to trickle between his fingers.

“You’re bleeding all over my patio.”

“So sorry, sweetheart,” Cassian drawls, pressing against his nose to try and stop the bleeding. “Any chance you have a towel handy?”

Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she vanishes inside her house. When she steps back outside again, Cassian is only slightly disappointed to see that she’s thrown on an oversized tee, but she tosses a dish towel at him. He balls it up and presses it against his nose, mopping up the blood as best he can.

“So, do you plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing in my backyard?” Nesta asks again, crossing her arms.

“I was just bringing you your package…” Cassian starts, pulling the towel away enough that he can see how bad it is.

“The package you stole, you mean? I have a Ring camera.”

Cassian winces and instantly regrets it. “Was just trying to help, sweetheart.”

Nesta hums, but it’s clear from the sound that she doesn’t quite believe him. Her eyes narrow, eyebrows dipped low, as she assesses him, as her attention sweeps over his frame. Cassian watches the exact moment she realizes his current state of dress. Those blue eyes widen slightly, lips pinching together for a moment. The smallest dusting of pink scatters across her cheeks, and her throat works as she swallows.

A smirk starts to tug at Cassian’s lips, pride swelling in his chest at his having an effect on her, at his shorts working after all, but it’s another movement that he instantly regrets. Slowly, he lifts his fingers to his nose, carefully pressing and feeling along the ridge.

“I think it’s broken,” Cassian murmurs, dropping both his hands back into his lap. “How does it look?”

“Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to lie?” Nesta taunts, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow. “It’s certainly an improvement to your face.”

“What if I wanted you to be honest?”

Nesta scoffs and shakes her head, but even with the pain making his eyes water, Cassian can see the barely concealed amusement in her face. The way her eyes glint extra blue under the sun, the way she presses her lips more firmly like that will fight back the fond smile.

“Glad to see that despite breaking your nose, your ego is still fully intact.”

“I heard women like a rugged man with scars. Isn’t that what’s in all those smutty books you’re always reading?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I’d certainly love to help you reenact one.”

Nesta throws her head back, and there’s Cassian’s favorite sound. Light and breathy, her laugh is truly his favorite melody. It takes the pain of his broken nose to stop his wide grin in response, but there’s no stopping the way his heart swells, the warmth that blooms through his veins, twining like vines around his limbs just like that sound.

“You’re insufferable,” Nesta teases, although there’s no real bite behind the words.

“Any chance of you helping my insufferable self to the ER? I don’t think I can drive.”

“Fine, but if you bleed all over my car too, I’ll kill you.”

Carefully, Cassian pushes himself back up to his feet. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Thankfully, the ER isn’t too busy, and they don’t have to wait too long before Cassian is taken back. They reset the bones of his nose and splint it, the nurse carefully taping and bandaging everything in place once the doctor is finished.

“The doctor prescribed some painkillers, and you can ice it for the swelling, but you should be all set,” the nurse explains, handing over the script to Cassian. “You just need to sign the discharge papers, and then your girlfriend can take you back home.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Thank you,” Cassian cuts Nesta off, nodding to the nurse who offers one last friendly, if not a bit awkward, smile before vanishing to grab the paperwork. He can feel Nesta glaring at him now, but he lets her stew another few moments before finally turning to her. “I should thank you too, for driving me.”

Nesta’s gaze softens then. “Well, I couldn’t just leave you to bleed out in my backyard, could I? I was being neighborly.”

“You should let me properly thank you too,” Cassian dares to push, smiling when Nesta fondly rolls her eyes.

“Why do I have the feeling your idea of ‘properly thanking me’ involves some sort of innuendo?”

“Oh, no. We’d save that later. I was actually just thinking dinner? I’ll cook and everything. You wouldn’t even have to leave your house.”

Cassian watches, entranced as Nesta’s eyes narrow slightly, as her bottom lip finds home between her teeth. Say yes, say yes, say yes, echoes like a chant, a prayer, inside his mind. It’s a plea that thrums in time with the pounding of his heart. With every second that passes, he feels like he can’t breathe, anticipation prickling along his skin, squeezing inside his lungs.

“Alright, but I expect dessert too.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nestaweek2023 #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

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bubybubsters · 6 months

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The Best Friend

a/n: I changed the title but still. This is based off my life, please, this is the one fic I ask for no constructive criticism. It still hurts like hell, but it’s whatever at this point. No one cares

wc: 1100

⚠️- unrequited love

masterlist

*****

ever loved someone who your best friend also loves? loved someone who will never love you back because they’re with your best, best friend? the friend you are loyal to and has been through so much, and deserves the his love more then you do? Ever backed off from a possible relationship because of the feeling of guilt eating you alive? Because you know your friend loves him, wants him, has him? I have and I can tell you right now, it sucks and it hurts like hell.

I glanced across the training ring and my heart clenched as I spotted Azriel and Gwyn training together. A flash of light caught my eye and I barely blocked Emeries’ sword from cutting me open. She throws me a pitying look and I pin her with a threatening look. She glances over my shoulder, a grimace on her face as she looks at our friend and the shadowsinger Their positions haven’t changed. What had she been grimacing about? Shit. My brain caught up and I was suddenly knocked to the ground with a sword at my throat and Emerie grinning down at me.

“Yield?”

I grin at her, the only warning before I knee her in the stomach and this time I’m on the top. with correct positioning so she can’t do anything to my stomach.

“Yield?”

“Yield.”

I forget about my heartache for a moment as Nesta and Cassian cheer. The two of us bow sarcastically at our audience of priestesses and Emerie holds two fingers over my head to make bunny ears. I swat and her and she chuckles before Rhysand sweeps in and they start the journey back to windhaven. Gwyn comes over and claps me on the back, handing me a two cups of water. I dunk one back as I see Azriel come over.

“Jeez Y/n, slow down a bit.”

I smirk and splash the water at him. It hits him in the chest and he growls.

“You’re done for.”

I laugh, sprinting down the stairs leading into the House of Wind.

“HEY, you didn’t cool down!!”

Cassian’s warning goes unanswered as I winnow out to meet Madja. The old healer eyes me up and down, shaking her head.

“You can’t take your lessons like this girl.”

*****

Two hours later, I’m in the library reading a murder mystery in a little alcove. Footsteps echo around and I can tell Gwyn is approaching fast. I put on a smile as Gwyn comes running in, books under her arm, a wide smile on her face.

“We kissed! We kissed!!”

I gasp and the painful ache in my heart expands as Gwyn sits down and talks on and on about her kiss with the spymaster.

I know she deserves it, after all she’d been through, there was nothing she didn’t deserve. And I smile because I am happy for her. Even if my heart breaks at the thought of them together, I will stay and support my friend.

“— then Cassian came back up to get a dagger he forgot and Azriel’s shadows didn’t deign to tell us. So Cassian ended up standing there awkwardly for so long until we noticed him. I was so embarrassed!! We’d just been kissing with so much passion and CASSIAN WAS JUST STANDING THERE, WATCHING!”

I bite my bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh as I meet Azriel’s wide eyes through a bookshelf. He puts a finger against his lips and I nod with a smug smirk.

“Anyway Y/n. What should I do?? He asked me out and it’s tomorrow at 7pm!!”

My heart stops, they’re really going to be together. My body tenses of its own accord and I clench my fists to stop from punching something.

“Uh well, you’ve got to pick something to wear that’s not too formal. Maybe a cobalt shirt with black leggings? Don’t think about it too much, just pretend you’re with me. Talk about things you love, your eyes light up and it looks really beautiful. He’ll be to shocked to respond.”

I smile at the thought of Azriel at a loss for words and Gwyn squeals, tackling me in a hug.

“Thank the cauldron, you’re a life saver! But Merrill’s gonna skin me alive if I keep her waiting any longer! Thanks y/n!”

She runs off and soon her footsteps disappear down the hallway.

Azriel comes out from his hiding spot and grins easily at me. “Thanks for not ratting me out, sunshine.”

I blush (as always) at the nickname and shake my head at him.

“What were you even doing??”

“Oh um. Just wanted to make sure she enjoyed it as much as I did and doesn’t have any regrets.”

I nod in understanding; Azriel has opened up to me about his insecurities a few times and ask me for advice on Gwyn. The thing is, I can even be mad at him for only talking to me about Gwyn. No. He asks me questions and listens when I talked without end about my troubles. God damn nice shadowsinger.

I’ve got to tell him. I can’t do it after he and Gwyn start, that would just be worse.

“Azriel… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” At his raised eyebrow I continue nervously. “Thank you for talking and listening to me, it means a lot and I will always appreciate the time you put aside for me. It means too much, too much to be friendly — see Azriel, what I’m trying to say is that, I like you, more then friendship, I love you.” I awkwardly watch him as he stares at me. I wait, and I wait, and I wait.

But he turns around and leaves, not looking back once.

And I feel my heart break

*****

A year later

I watch from the corner of the living room as everyone exchanges gifts for Solstice. I watch as Azriel gets on one knee. As he opens a box, and asks the word I always wished would be directed to me.

“Gwyn, my darling, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

My not so best friend squeals with delight and I smile for her. Because even though she rarely speaks to me, I still love her with all my heart. My heart that is currently rebreaking after it just healed. I’ll heal again, I always do. That’s my greatest strength, or maybe my greatest weakness.

A flash of red hair appears in my vision and I spot Lucien. He smiles at me, handing me a small, beautifully wrapped box.

“Happy Solstice y/n.”

*****

a/n: hope you enjoyed, I’m not a big fan personally but yeah. Like, reblog and comment!

taglist

@thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination @stargirl1714

#bubybubsters #acotar #fanfic #acowar #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lucien x you

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aquanova99 · 8 months

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕞

Azriel x OC

Part 2

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➽───────────────❥

Cassian leans against the wall as Nesta paces across the stone floor, knowing better than to interrupt when shes upset. Nesta was not blind she knew he was just as worried, if not more so for their friend. She stopped to go to him grabbing his shaky hand that was anxiously tracing over one of his syphon.

“I’m sorry.”

“I assume he’s still not saying anything.” When she shakes her head Cassian just takes a deep breath, “So, whats the plan now?”

“We could ask him for help. Have him join us to the town house. Maybe seeing Nyx will help. It has to be his choice, but…” Nesta shakes her head and presses her lips together, Cassian just brings her into him. Neither of them understanding what it was they had done to let their friend feel so isolated he couldn’t even speak to them.

Azriel for his part tried a bit more with Nesta, both of them having an understanding. After Luminia Grove, after Callista he found himself furious. Furious…and doubtful. He saw everything that had happened to him and questioned why? Why couldn’t his father simply leave him and his mother somewhere? Why did his half brothers hate him so much? Why did he agree to an alliance with two boys who beat him just as bad as anyone else in his life. They hated eachother until one day they simply didn’t.

He had pushed down all of his anger and it was as if it couldn’t be contained anymore. Never had he understood Nesta more. So his yelling was reserved for Cassian. Rhysand. Mor and Elain received silence. He no longer had the energy to try and untangle his feelings. Especially when, during his brief moments of lucidity, he only thought of Callista.

He can hear Nesta outside of his door. Waiting for him to be finished with his food, he sighed pulling out his pendant for only a second before speaking, “Nesta, you may come in. I wont bite your head off.”

“Yeah, that’s the issue I’m having. Can Cassian come?” Azriel’s lips tightened but he nodded. They both sat on a lounge chair, directly across from the bed Azriel sat. The shadows seeming unnervingly still.

“Az. He’s going to demand we go visit him soon if you don’t get out of this bed.” Cassian starts

“Maybe I should hike an entire mountain until I snap out of it.” He grumbles, he takes a deep breath at Cassian’s flinch. He knows he’s being too harsh when Nesta squeezes his hand, “I don’t want to see him.”

“We understand. I don’t like seeing him either.” Nesta shrugged, “But, we can see Nyx.”

Azriels chuckles, It has been awhile. Really he hasn’t been talking because its easier to talk about anything besides what happened those days he was gone. It seems ridiculous, he pines for his friend for centuries, then tries to be with someone because somehow each of his so called brothers are with her sisters, now all he could think about another woman who offered him a home, no stipulations or trials required. Apparently that was all it took. It was pathetic. He needed to forget the small hideaway he had found. And at the same time, he needed to figure out the protection spell. Why did he even want to help? His mind was racing nonstop, his headaches worse than ever. He couldn’t talk about it… So, instead, what does he do? Lash out.

“I—

“We won’t talk about it.” Nesta says

“Its not that. I don’t—I don’t understand whats happening…”

“Because your brain is reacting. As if you’re trying to survive something.” Azriel and Cassian stare, “When I was angry, and before I went on that…uhm mountain trip. I—Well it was like I was telling my mouth to stop talking but everything that came out was…mean and cruel. Like a part of me wanted everyone to either feel how I was feeling or make them leave me alone so I could stay miserable.”

The two ilyrian men stared at her. Cassian ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness again, Azriel ready to tell them everything. He did everything to hold his tongue. He quietly says he will go. Neither Nesta nor Cassian argue, and quickly lead the way out. First he had to get over this, and talk to Rhys about the spell. Talk to Rhys about the spell. He repeated in his head over and over. He repeated it so much he wasn’t even aware he had made it to the town house he used to reside in. The rooms that once held so much warmth and safety now made him anxious. Though he never took it off he still patted around his neck to make sure his amulet was still there, still hidden. The long corridor to where he knew he would encounter Feyre and Rhysand filled him with dread, the shadows warned him of the upcoming interrogation, which truly, he expected. Nonetheless… how much would he be able to say. How much should he reveal?

Feyre greeted him first, enveloping him in a warm hug he felt safe to return, “Azriel…We’re happy you could come see us.”

“I really just wanted to see Nyx, if that’s okay?” He could see the hurt in Feyre’s eyes, he was told how Elain’s face turned into a scowl, he could hear Amren scoffing as she sat on the floor across from Rhys, but he could also feel how Feyre was willing to accept his answer.

“Of course, its not okay.” Rhysand said, “You’ve been missing for months, then you decide to ignore your friends, your duties. Need I remind you that Bryaxis is still out there?” Of course not. Along with his order to stay away from one of the people he was friendly with, the fact he couldn’t find him so easily infuriated him. Nothing had ever stopped his shadows from discovery. It was as if whatever that thing was, the creature that seemed to haunt Cassian every time it was brought up…it terrified even the shadows that kept him company.

“Don’t you dare imply I haven’t been doing everything I can for this court.” No. Stop. Take a breath he told himself,

“I have continued my duties. There is nothing to report. Everything has been silent. I would request you not question my abilities.” Rhysand lips tightened, Feyre glaring at him screaming at him mentally to play nice. He mentally distanced himself, shutting down any emotion threatening to spill over.

“Stop. Please,” Rhysand’s voice softened, “You don’t have to speak so formally. I—we’ve never spoken to each other like that.”

“Right.” Azriel scoffed, “I think it’s best I remember my place. You are my high lord. I am just your spy master, and I will continue to do my duties for the Night Court. As I have been.”

“Rhysand…” Feyre use of his full name caught everyone’s attention but it did not deter her mate. Nesta glared, for someone who always judged how she reacted to others he was always quick to act just the same. Saying things, sometimes hurtful things, to mask his own hurt. Hypocrite. Nesta sneered when Rhysand glared in her direction.

“Very well, then you can tell me exactly where you were for those three months.”

“Rhys. Stop.” Cassian pleaded

“No. We deserve to know. Something happened while he was gone. If he was only doing his duties he should be able to tell us, right?” Amren said with a pinched smile

“He left because obviously someone doesn’t know when to leave things well enough alone.” Nesta glared at Rhysand, “He has never once proved to be disloyal to you or the rest of the Inner Circle you claim is your family.”

“I think I agree with Rhys…” Elain spoke up, “Its just—it does seem strange. And my visions, they couldn’t see you coming back or at all when you left.”

The shadows seemed to grow darker around him, hugging him, enveloping the space around him. No one missed this, everyone watched what he would say next. “I apologize, but I fail to see how that’s my fault. Since the last time you used my blade, you hadn’t used your ability as seer. Even then, I do not report to you.”

“I wasn—”

“Don’t talk to her that way. My abilities aren’t working with you either. Something happened, or you figured out how to protect yourself from daemati, which makes everything rather suspicious, does it not? I don’t need to remind you how delicate everything is right now.”

“No, you remind me very well.” Nesta and Cassian looked between each other. Of course, Feyre knew. In fact, everyone knew because Rhysand had been trying to convince everyone that this was how they could all help their friend.

“You found something.” Rhysand stated, he had yet to move from his seat.

“I found nothing!” Azriel voice rose higher than anyone had ever heard him speak, the shadows circling him, nervous at the amount of doubt aimed towards him.

“Az, could you tell us what happened…please. Whatever happened out there…if its bad we can help.” Rhys returned to pleading, trying to dig his friend out of whatever wall he had built up so strongly. Had he pushed him that far?

Azriel laughed dryly, they were getting nowhere. He was getting nowhere near any answers that could help his own personal quest. “Nothing happened. I was not lying when I say I found nothing. Are you so desperate to find something wrong?”

“You could just show me. Whatever you did to block me out—”

“Was not of my doing. And if I had the ability to block you, I would have done that long ago. Instead of you commanding me when its convenient for you or finding things I likely never wanted you to see.”

“Is that why you left? Because I ordered for you to do something to keep the peace between the autumn court?” Rhysand stood up taking a couple steps toward Azriel who remained immobile. Enough is enough, these kinds of cracks could not begin to unravel at the center of his realm. He did his best dammit. Is doing whats best for everyone around him. Azriel’s stubbornness helped no one.

“It is ironic how you always say we have free will until it is something you deem wrong, is all I’m saying. Lord Rhysand.” There was no expression on Azriels face, no fear. Just more indifference. “I don’t know where I was nor how I got there. I found nothing.”

“Az, you don’t have to…” Nesta reached out, but Azriel shrugged her off.

“He wants to know.” He turned back to face Rhysand and Amren who was now staring him down. “I don’t know how long I flew for, I just kept flying well past the faerie realms that seem to hide from the rest of Prythian. My wings froze after several days and when I woke up…it was in a strange place I have never heard of. It has protection spells similar to our own Velaris, but much stronger. The people there nursed me, fed me and then told me to go home. I traveled back the normal way.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell us about them?” Mor squeaked out, sneaking in after listening into the heated discussion, “You think we would hurt them?”

“We all have things we do not wish to speak about to others, do we not? You still do not talk about some of the events of the Autumn Court, and when Eris contradicts you neither I, nor anyone else question you.” Mor immediately stomps out, muttering about everyone needing to mind their business. No one could argue his point. Every one of them kept something deeply hidden within themselves. Rhysand refuses to talk about what he had to do to appease Amarantha. Nesta still hides why she was so hurt after the battle with Hybern, Elain sees things no one else sees, Amren was an entirely different being who gave them no information. While Azriel mostly wanted to keep Callista and her people safe, it was also better for his friends to know nothing. If something were to happen and they were to encounter more daemati, more people who had the ability to torture peoples thoughts.… they would have no information. And so long as he could somehow keep his amulet hidden he would be safe. Not that anything really contained him anyhow not since he was a child, not again. Never again.

“We would never—”

“I may not be daemati, but I know when someone is lying. Unless you know how to lower centuries of protection spells stronger than Velaris had, theres no point in trying to find them. The people there…they’re stuck. They cant leave and no one whose visited has been able to find it twice.”

“You actually believe that?” Amren snorted, “They told you that so you’d leave them alone.”

Azriel became silent. He wasn’t about to argue any further. A few weeks ago, he might have agreed with Amren, but the people there. They were prisoners, their cell was lovely and they’ve made do with what they could but regardless they were stuck. Never able to leave. Stagnant. He bowed his head and turned to go back to the house of wind. At least there he could get some peace and quiet. Nesta put her hand on his shoulder to stop him for going any farther.

“Did you get your answer or not?” Nesta demanded, Rhys was silent. His eyes landing on all of his friends waiting for an answer, waiting to take a side. A house divided would not stand, and he was only making it worse. He needed to time to think. Maybe listen to his High Lady and just apologize…no. He only need to apologized if he made a mistake, and the original order was not a mistake. Was Feyre right, he thought, is he only trying to preserve his pride? Should he leave his friend alone. How else could he help? Is that what he was doing, helping? Trying to maintain control of something just to keep his family safe? Feyre stared at her mate with both empathy and fury mixing inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to make up for hurt words.

“Azriel, would you still like to see him? Nyx should be awake from his nap any moment.” Feyre asked

“If that’s okay with you.” Feyre smiled and led Azriel away.

“Well, that went well.” Amren chuckled at the chaos

“Whats your fucking problem Amren?” Cassian spat out

“You don’t think its weird?”

“You think everything is weird. You didn’t like Nestas powers either. But you and Rhys apparently always have the last word, right?” Cassian stared at Rhys daring him to argue. Nesta just grabbed his hand and followed Feyre. When they found her and Azriel they both stared at silently at the interaction between the Ilyrian and Nyx. Silent but so soft, so loving. Azriel sat him on his lap, staring at the boy with eyes that had been cloaked in misery for weeks, the shadows finally growing dimmer around him. The little boy seemed to be playing with how the shadows swirled and danced around him, both completely taken with the other.

“I still cant believe he likes you more.” Cassian joked, finally earning a smile from his friend

“Just wait, once he can fly and run around. He is going to prefer you. He’ll need someone to match his energy.” They all smiled at the thought of it. Feyre looked at the people in this room and her eyes began watering. Not so long ago the group was voting on what to do with Nesta, then they did the same when they were deciding to tell her about Nyx’s wings, now again here they all were voting, debating, on whether or not Azriel could be trusted. Azriel of course, noticed. “You all can agree with him if its easier. I don’t hate him, but right now…I need space and this is easier. You don’t have to fight him for my sake.”

This of course, only solidified who they were standing behind. “Please, I like arguing with Rhys. I’ve been doing it since I was dumped in the cauldron.”

“I’ve learned not to side against Nesta.” Cassian joked, Nesta pushed him and he brought her into him wrapping his arms around her from behind, “Besides, I get it. You cant control who you fall in love with. And the whole Autumn court thing…”

“Well, if it makes everyone feel better, since I’m sure they can hear. I’m leaving Elain alone. I thought I could have been her…but I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I am trying to figure everything out. Whats real and whats a result of me being alone? Thankful someone notices me, maybe? I was made aware of where I stood with Rhys that night. And I cant—I cant get over that right now.”

“You don’t have to.” Nesta says, “And you don’t have to figure out how you feel right now either. If that’s why you needed space then take the space. Let us know if we can help.”

“If Lucian had a choice between Elain and the woman his father killed, he would have chosen the latter. Being mates…it doesn’t always mean the two are a good fit. I mean look at Rhy’s parents.” Feyre says lowly, thinking about the sadness in Lucian’s eyes, the way he remembers how happy he had been. The pain that never left him, the guilt he would always carry over the weight at being the reason the love of his life had died. Now… well she never saw him, he wanted nothing to do with any of them. Probably trying to untangle his own feelings from what the mate bond placed on him. “Did you care for her then? Before you left?”

“Yes. The way she noticed my headaches, even if Nuala and Cerridwen told her.” He took a deep sigh, “I’ve been pining for Mor for centuries, she’s never once thought of that. No one had. She had shown me time and time again, she didn’t reciprocate… and that medicine….That medicine is what shifted things for me. Someone noticed me, but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Well. I’m not in love with you.” Nesta shrugged as everyone looked at her, bewildered, “I’m serious. The last solstice we were all together you got me that book light. And it was so simple but that gift meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do that. But you’re kind. Elain is kind. If no one has shown you kindness like that its bound to bring up some emotions. And Elain is well… anyway shes kind. That’s who she is. I don’t know why she’d side with that guy but…just…just try and figure out what would make you happy.”

“They’re right. Being mates doesn’t mean much, I don’t think Nesta and I particularly liked each other when they forced her into the House of Wind. She became happy long before she came around to me at all, and even then I almost messed everything up.” Cassian thought back to when everyone was meant to keep Nesta’s real power quiet, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not now. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Azriel smiled at his friend, happy after so many years of suffering plagued him. He could find something similar in Elain, if he wanted. Now that Feyre was on his side. So where did that leave Callista. Why was she still on his mind? Because they had unfinished business. “Nesta, you worked at the library for a bit right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think theres any way I could find a way to undo a spell like the one we had here?”

“I don’t know… Gwyn would know better than me. I can ask her.”

Azriel can only nod. His energy depleted from the days events. The second Nyx is out of his arms he feels like retreating into himself. Nesta is quick to excuse herself and Cassian as she wants to start looing into the research, bored for something new to read. Feyre nodded ready for sometime alone with her mate, ready to figure out how to compromise without forcing everyone to choose sides again. Not again.

➽───────────────❥

“I forgot how big this place was.” Nesta grumbled, “We haven’t even touched a quarter of all the books having to do with Velaris.”

“Poor Azriel. This must be driving him crazy.” Gwyn said as she quickly scanned through another book before putting it back on the shelf. Nesta and Gwyn were the only ones still allowed to search after Azriel lost it after a couple months of finding nothing. He slammed one book down and Clotho made it clear he wasn’t welcome until the book was found.

“I think it bothers him more that Cassian is the one stuck babysitting.” Nesta joked.

“A lot of sparring I assume.” Nesta exaggeratedly nodded and the two had to stop themselves from laughing too loudly. “Has he told you why he wants to figure out the spell so badly yet?”

“Ugh, no. I mean I know the whole being stuck really you know…resonates with him. But theres something else.”

“You mean someone else?”

“You think so too?”

“So does Emerie. Is she visiting soon?”

“Yes, I asked Azriel to ask her to come today. Her family is still hounding her for the shop. I get worried about her.”

“Me too.” They both work for a couple more hours before they head back to the house of wind to deliver the unfortunate news once again to their friend.”

Nesta’s heart breaks at the small glimmer of hope she sees in Azriel’s eyes dying every time she steps back into the room. She shakes her head and he nods in understanding. Then as always, excuses himself. Cassian and Emerie run to meet them. The reunion momentarily takes precedence.

“I’m helping tomorrow.” Emerie states.

“The three of you at once? Nothing will get done then.” Cassian joked.

Nesta pushes him, “Anything to report?”

“He is going out for a couple hours and then we both go to see Rhys to tell him the same thing, nothing. Its too quiet. Even Eris reached out to see if everything was alright.”

“I guess when you live forever, you have time to wait.” Nesta frowns

“Until then, lets try and have a good time. We can all play some games, get Azriel to participate. Maybe cheer him up.” Gwyn offered

“Sounds like a great idea.” Cassian agreed, “He listens to you, Nesta.”

“Well come with me. You two make yourselves comfortable, okay.” She squeezes her friend’s hands and goes off to find the shadowsinger. She knocks softly at first, “Hey, Az?”

When there was no answer Cassian knocked more urgently, but it pushed open easily. They couldn’t breathe any sigh of relief as they found Azriel standing in front of some kind door made of pure night. He didn’t move. Seemingly entranced by the shadows that he had always followed. A gentle hand startled him, causing him to bring his knife out immediately.

“Its just us.” Nesta whispered

“Put the knife down. Now.” Cassian words were filled with venom. Brother or not, no one was going to do anything to Nesta as long as he was around. But Azriel was quick to sheath his weapon.

“So-sorry. Its just…Sorry.” The shadows dispersed.

“Are you going to go back?” Nesta asked

“I don’t know if I can. I didn’t summon them. It’s like a door that shows up every day. Like something is calling me back but I can’t step through it.” Truth was he was desperate and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Have you tried?” Cassian asked

“I don’t want to be wrong. Or end up somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

“Only one way to find out right?” Nesta asked, “If you end up anywhere else, you should be able to come back right away, right?”

“I guess.” Azriel said, still dazed

“Go find her. Maybe she can figure out how the spell around Velaris works.”

“What?” Azriel asked, not completely shocked but still surprised Nesta had figured anything out.

“You said the spell is strong there, but you were able to travel out your usual way. If all they do is practice magic maybe she can figure it out for herself. I’ll deal with Rhys.” Nesta took a step back, and Cassian nodded moving as close as he possibly could to his mate.

“Go. We’ll come up with something.”

Azriel blinked. Slowly facing the shadows reaching towards him. Pleading with him to step through. He took a deep breath before taking a few steps forward, disappearing from his friends sight. They both looked at each other, hoping he would come back much sooner than the last time he disappeared.

When Azriel opened his eyes, he was back in the room he had woken up in last. It was dark, as if no one had been here since he left, if this place was as difficult to find as Callista had said he supposed it made sense. But the air was cold, immediately he felt something was wrong. The pendant seemed to thrum against his chest. He threw the door open, expecting to find everyone gone or worse, hurt. Perhaps his presence had attracted an unwanted visitor. He suddenly couldn’t breathe and he scrambled to escape the small room that seemed to be shrinking the longer he stayed in there. His could see every breath as he stepped through the frosty air. The tree seemed to light up the otherwise pitch black area. Azriel suddenly remembers Callista telling him about the evenings there and beautiful it was. She was right.

Small orbs of light spread throughout the trees seemed illuminated the intricate design of snow encasing every branch and leaf. The wind seemed to whistle through the ice like crystals, the sound of bells tinkling through the air. The ice swirled around the homes of the faeries living inside, several of them lit up themselves as the people inside moved about, completely unaware of his presence. He looked down to the forest floor, children were having a snowball fight. His heart hurts at the thought of missing his own tradition several months ago. Still wondering if he had made the right choice then, wondering if this was the right choice now? He surveyed the people, the older fae were waving their hands, bending snow into shapes around them.

Azriels eyes stopped when he saw the wings. The pinks that melted into the wing. The softest sunburst gleam that made her stand out. She belonged in the dawn court, he thought. He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He pressed his eyes shut, forced himself to breathe before he would go down to talk to her. When he opened them again she was gone, he heard the fluttering behind him before his shadows had a chance to warn him of anything.

“Azriel?”

“I did say I would find a way back here.” Callista tackled him into a hug, almost unseating his footing. He found himself burying his head into her hair, breathing in her perfume that brought him a surprising amount of comfort. His arms gently went around her waist, his hands resting on her shoulder blades, so delicate, so careful to not ruin her wings.

“I cant believe you actually did it.” She laughed as she pulled away.

Azriel smiled, trying to hide his disappointment at the distance Callista creates as she pulls away. “How long has it been here?”

“Here? Its been years?”

“Years?” Azriel assumed time would continue to drag here. He wondered how long a day would last here, “I’m sorry. Its only been a few months where I’m from. I was trying to find a way to figure out the spell surrounding this place.”

Callista’s face grew distant. When she could finally look away she cursed whatever was holding them here, “I hate this place.”

“I cant stay. I don’t understand it, but I had been missing several months when I went back the first time. Will you come with me? Maybe we could figure out a way to get everyone else out of here.”

“We do not know if I will be able to leave.”

“That’s true. But we wont know until we try.”

“I suppose not.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face, “Come with me. I need to alert some of others.”

“Syra?”

Callista’s face darkens, “No. Not her. Come on.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand this time and flies down to where most of the children had gathered. She lets go only to whisper to one of the kids who quickly flew off somewhere Azriel couldn’t find. The second he’s out of sight Callista comes back up next to him and continues to hold his hand.

“Scout is our fastest flier. He likes delivering important messages. Should I get you some warmer clothes?”

Azriel quickly shakes his head, unaware how stiff his fingers are becoming or how the tip of his nose began reddening ever so slightly. In fact, he felt rather warm, his cheeks deepening due to the mix of sharp wind and his own blush at how openly affectionate Callista was. Perhaps it was in her nature. He noticed several other faeries not shying from the touch of the fae around them. Scout was quick to come, followed by several more faeries, all much more weathered than Callista and himself. She squeezed her his hand before letting go to address them.

“What is this we hear of you leaving?” One of the oldest there began

“No one has ever made it back, Tommin. This is a good sign. We could figure out how to get out of here.”

“We are perfectly fine here.”

“It could be better. Its not to say as if we can never come back.” Azriel studied every elder intensely yet only one seemed nervous. The others all strangely stoic, unworried about one of their own. They didn’t believe she could leave. Tommin continued to angrily speak at Callista. For her own part, she seemed indifferent to his ranting. As if shes used to all the irades around here.

“And if you cant leave? What if you get stuck in some kind of limbo in your attempt to leave?”

“That’s better than being a prisoner.”

“If we cant figure out how to lower the shield I can continue teleporting in. I’ll take as many as I can.” Azriel chimed in hoping to help.

“Not all of us feel the need to leave.”

“Great. Then you wont mind letting the ones go that do want to leave, right?”

“Callista. You have to stay, he can try with anyone else first.” Tommin turned to pleading, Azriel could hear his heartrate increase. He was hiding something. The elders eyes the stranger as the shadows seemed to grow around him, circling him in preparation for escape. Callista couldn’t understand the hesitation with her being the one not being allowed to go. No one had ever stopped her from trying before, why now? With so close of a guarantee. With so close of an answer.

“I’m leaving.” Callista walked back until she reached Azriel, she looked at him and he nodded. Wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Hold on tight,--”

“Callista. Stop!”

“Don’t.”

Several voices began to protest, but Azriel ignored them, “Don’t look.”

His voice was suddenly gravely serious. It was not a request, but a demand. AN order not to look at whatever was about to happen. Callista nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and hiding her face in the crook of his head. Azriel had his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. The darkness enveloped them, the screams growing fainter by the second. She remained silent, not daring to hope for anything short of a miracle. She could only grip tighter, comforted by Azriel’s reassuring squeeze. The shadow traveling literally took her breath away, it was to induce panic inside of her, her stomach seemed to be sinking deeper into her body. Suddenly, everything stopped. Her hair finally falling back down around her. She didn’t move, afraid that when she opened her eyes she would be right back where she started.

Azriel pressed his lips against her temple, trying his best not to overwhelm her, “We’re here.”

Callista releases the air she was holding back in her lungs. Prying herself off of him in disbelief. She immediately wants to rush to the window but Azriel is quick to grab her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Not yet. You remember the friend I told you about? He’s almost here. You have to wait just a little longer. It will be very overwhelming. Believe me, please.”

She knew he was right. It didn’t make things easier but he was right, “How do you know?”

“I have some help.” He smirked, “Stay here, I will have some friends get you some more comfortable clothes. They will lead you down to meet everyone. I would like to show you around, if that’s okay…”

“I’ll wait to sneak a peek.” She pauses as he begins to exit the room she was left in. Callista begins feeling incomplete. Whatever help she had offered him couldn’t compare to what he had done for her. Nothing would ever compare to this. Freedom. She was finally free. The very air she breathed felt different, lighter. “Azriel!”

He freezes, worried she wants to return already. “Is everything okay.”

“Yes…its just…thank you.”

He offered her a smile and slightly bowed his head. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he readied himself to face his friends. His high lord. This was not going to be easy. Everyone was there. Even Gwyn and Emerie had come back.

They all stared as he entered the room. Before Rhysand could even begin questioning Azriel turned to Cassian. “How long?”

“Only a few days this time.”

He breathed a sigh of relief thanking whatever entity was out there that nothing happened while he was gone. It had only been a few days, no wonder the Valkyries were still here. No war, no deaths. Otherwise, Rhysand would have made his presence known immediately. He was still unhappy, but his curiosity got the better of him. That and he was glad that Azriel decided to come back at all.

“We hear you brought a visitor.” Rhysand starts.

“Yes, she will be joining us soon. She’s getting some new clothes. Nuala and Cerridwen are helping her right now.”

“Good, we want to make our guests feel welcome. Right, Rhys?”

He gritted his teeth but agreed, “Of course, Feyre darling. Of course, we still have some questions for her.”

“Are you planning on interrogating her? She has never known anything outside her home. Do you have to do it now?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Nesta said, “You went to get her to learn more about the spell around Velaris. Right? Shes done nothing to warrant an interrogation. We are simply going to meet her. Shes a guest.”

“Why don’t we all eat dinner? We can just meet eachother.” Feyre agreed

“We should ask why the hell she kept him there for months. She could have enchanted you? Are you seriously that dense?” Amren scoffed, “Why cant Rhys use his abilities on her?”

That was news to Azriel. “I told you her whole kingdom was shielded even more heavily than Velaris. It probably extends to the people there.”

“Then you should take us all there.” Amren glared, trying to get a rise out of Azriel. “To be immune from those powers would be very beneficial to our cause, no?”

“And if when we come back the war has come and gone? I was gone for days and when I returned it had been months. I wasn’t even there a full day this last time, and its been days. Callista said it had been years since I had left. Its too big a risk.”

“And the only way there is through Azriel.” Rhys states, “Unfortunately, he is right. But there’s a chance this Callista knows more than she lets on. We will try and figure out how much she knows.”

“Well, where is she?” Mor asks, very clearly annoyed. “Lets get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Callista walks into the living area, the presence of her magnificent wings drawing gasps from most everyone, Nesta and Mors eyes widened, Cassians mouths dropped, the only one who maintained an uninterested poker face was Rhysand and Amren. Callista for her part was shocked she was the only one among company with wings at all. She stepped beside Azriel, he noticed she wore a soft, pale pastel green dress. It was adorned with flowers: pinks, yellows, and purples to compliment her wings. It flowed out at the skirt, with the sleeves swooping around her shoulders. Her long hair almost flowed to her waist. No one had so effortlessly been born a High Fae. Azriel couldn’t stop staring. She looked as ethereal as the first day he had seen her.

“What?’

“You look lovely.” Azriel said softly, a small smile growing on Callistas face.

“Thank you.” She turned to face everyone else, she slightly curtsied in their direction. “And thank you for having me. I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly.”

“Lets eat, theres a lot to discuss.” The high lord stands up, “I apologize if this seems like a lot on your first day here.”

“You must be Rhysand. I don’t mind answering any questions. I have nothing to hide.”

Another scoff from Amren, still sitting on the floor, “Yeah. Right.”

This shakes Nesta out of her daze, “I’m Nesta. Will you please join us?”

Everyone stares at the interaction between Callista and Rhysand. Neither of them backing down from each other. Rhysand had no power to keep the newcomer in place. She was a threat. And almost every person there could agree that they would need to watch her. Nesta’s request brings out a dazzling smile from their unexpected guest.

“I would love to. Can I help in any way?”

“The food will be ready by the time we walk into the dining room.” Nesta assured her, “Can I sit by you?”

“Yes, I think I would feel safer that way actually.” This response gets a good laugh out of Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian. Azriel moves quietly, suddenly feeling like no longer speaking. Exhausted. He made sure to tell Nuala and Cerridwen to ensure all of the curtains were not drawn. Tired as he was, he was anxious to show his world to Callista. He wondered when he would be able to talk to her alone.

“She seems nice, Az.” Feyre whispers as squeezes her arm before joining hands with her own mate. Azriel can hear the hushed ‘be nice,’ she hisses at Rhysand. Azriel stops when Cassian holds him back behind everyone.

“Don’t let them treat her like Nesta. I failed her. A lot. I’m still trying to make it up to her. But…just—don’t do what I did.”

“I won’t.” He realizes he doesn’t protest at the implications that Callista was his Nesta. This was not the time. Azriel decides to sit next to Rhys after seeing the other seat next to Callista. Amren was across from her, studying or glaring the entire time. Almost unblinking.

“So, Callista. How did you get Azriel to stay away for so long? Did he hurt himself that badly?” Mor asked in her most saccharine voice

“His wings were not in the best shape. He was asleep for several days. We didn’t want to rush the healing process or have it healed in correctly. He left the same day he woke up. But time does move differently where I come from.”

“And how would you know that? If you supposedly cant leave?”

Callista’s eyes seem to water for a split second, “I told Azriel once that we had a man stay with us for years. More than a decade. My friend he…he fell in love with him. One day the man became frantic, worried about his wife. A wife we had no idea existed. He left that day, but my friend demanded he write him. That he respond to a letter that would find him when he was home. According to one of the letters, when he returned only a week has passed. No one had even begun to worry about him. He had aged and his wife doubted he was the same person who had left for whatever battle he had gone to fight. The second time my friend sent a letter, it took him too long. He sent a long confession against our conservations. Three days passed…When we got a reply it was from a man claiming to be the son of the man who had found us. He had died three years prior. We never sent any more letters. I cannot claim to understand how time seems to move so curiously.”

“Did he fall through the sky too?” Amren pouted her lips as she asked, Azriel clenched his fists at her unnecessary cruelness.

“No. He was not fae. He was a human. Washed up in one of the riverbanks. We never know how they get there, nor how they leave. Except Azriel no one has come back to let us know personally. Up until he came back, I half guessed that letter was just a way of letting my friend down easily.” Not once did she seem even slightly bothered by the questions, impressing almost everyone and infuriating the main instigator.

“So, what do you know?” Amren pressed

“Enough.” Azriel voice cut through like a knife, “This is not an interrogation. Let her eat.”

“Its alright. I suppose it all does seem strange. But its all I know. All I’ve known. But if you plan on questioning me, I deserve the same courtesy, correct? Or are the people in this circle you speak of the only ones allowed to speak?”

“Wh—” Amren is about to begin yelling but Callista refuses to be talked over

“I’ll even ask the same questions. Where are you from? How did you get there? What do you know about that world? Please, I’m very curious.” She is only staring at Amren as if she knows exactly what Amren is. She is about to respond but Callista almost immediately turns to Mor, “And you, you claim I enchanted him? Could I not ask you the same? Why have you kept him so close after seeing the pain he was in, keeping him close enough to get his hopes up?”

Mor lips tightens as she suddenly stabs some food on her plate with her fork. Callista shrugs and begins eating. Cassian can only stare in shock, his hand covers his mouth. Hoping it stops him from saying some joke that would get either lady from the inner circle angry at him. Nesta and the Valkyries share a look, Elain is silent, never looking up from her plate.

“Ignore them Callista, I do.” Nesta said as she continued eating. “Emerie, tell me. Hows the business going at the Ilyrian camp? Is your uncle still bothering you? Should we just take care of him?”

“Oh Gods, no. Not yet. They cant do much anymore. What with Cassian constantly checking on the camp and making sure everyone is at least being respectful.” The conversation continues for a while to give the poor girl a chance to recover before more questions inevitably came her way. Soon after everyone introduced themselves and how they met eachother. Callista stored everything to memory, determined to show them that at the very least, she was polite enough to genuinely care. And she asked as many questions as she could. Their stories were interesting and it was nice to hear literally anything new after a lifetime of hearing the same stories over and over. Callista worried she would have to go back. She could never go back, not now that she knew there was so many things that were possible. She hoped Azriel would finally allow her to take a look at the world so far away from her own.

Azriel remained silent. Watching to ensure everything goes smoothly. Rhysand only asks one question, “Callista, Azriel said the magic surrounding your home was stronger than anything he had seen. What kind of magic protects it?”

“If I knew I would have figured out a way to remove it. My magic mainly lies in healing, and I can hide things quite well. Azriel called it a glamour? But I assume you’re asking because you also want to try and figure out why you cannot do the mind reading thing I’ve heard about. I don’t know why something would protect me from that.”

Azriels eyes shoot up at her. The words were deliberate. She was not lying but omitting very key details. She takes another bite of food and smirks at him flipping her hair to one side, a gleam of gold flashes ever so slightly. She had come prepared. Somehow, Syra had given her some kind jewelry to prevent Rhysand from spying on her private thoughts. The silence around them is almost deafening, only the sounds of silverware scraping echoes through the room.

Azriel lightly cleared his throat, “Well. This was great but if you’ll excuse me. I did promise Callista I would show her around for a bit.”

She couldn’t stand up any quicker, “Can we?”

“Az, you should start at the training pad.” Nesta nods in the general direction before standing up herself, “We will have to talk more tomorrow, Callista.”

“I’d like that.” Callista smiled warmly and wrapped her arm around Azriels as they exited the room.

Nesta returned the smile and grabbed Emerie and Gwyn, simply leaving the dinner and the guests that imposed themselves on it. Cassian only cleared his throat, “Well…that’s that.”

“She was nice.” Feyre tried to continue some sort of discussion

“Sure.” Mor scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Because you were so warm and inviting?” Cassian joked

“Wasn’t I?” She rolled her yes but smiled at her friend, she knew she didn’t make it easy on either of the Ilyrians special ‘friends.’ She wondered how long they were all going to ignore how close the two had become acquainted. Or if they were going to bring it up. She still didn’t like the outsider, but she could respect Callista standing up for herself.

“I don’t trust her.” Amren crosses her arms.

“You don’t trust anyone.” Feyre said, “No one can be trusted with information as far as your concerned. I think you’ve been wrong before. With me and Nesta.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.” Rhysand stood, “We will give them a couple days before we ask her to try and figure out the spell.”

“What if she wants to stay with him?” Cassian asked a little too seriously

“We will discuss that when it comes to that.”

“He’ll never forgive you if you don’t let her stay. He will leave.” Cassian stared down his brother, and got a nod in response before he headed out with Feyre and Elain. The latter still silent, still analyzing tonights events.

➽───────────────❥

Azriel led Callista to the stairway up to the training pad, stopping right before they headed outside. “You have one?”

“Yes. Syra made one for me right after you left. I haven’t taken it off since.” She pulled hers out, the metal string holding the small circular gem that almost looked too thin. As if touching it would cause it to crumble. The gem also looked completely different. It was a blinding white, that seemed to glow as she held it up. As if a star had been captured in the small circle. Azriel pulled his own out to compare, still pitch black. He could swear something was moving inside of his but quickly put it back. Not wanting to over think anything else right now.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She takes a deep breath as Azriel opens the door. Her mouth drops at the endless sea of stars. How he ever let her go on about her home being beautiful at night when this is what he fell asleep to should be criminal. She must have looked so foolish. She didn’t care. She would owe him the rest of her existence. Azriel could only stare at her. The stars shining in her eyes, he could only hope she would allow him to be the one who would show her the rest of Prythian.

“Our home is most beautiful at night too.”

“Theres no comparison. I cant believe you kept a straight face.” She laughed and reached for his hand, “They look so close.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, only takes her hand as she walks closer to the edge of the pad. “Have you ever flown with this much space?”

“No.” She says, completely shocked by her own lack of realization, “But I’m about to.” She squeezes his hand before running to the end and jumping off the mountain. Azriel has a moment of panic before she flies back up, laughing at how far free her wings could spread. Not having to worry about the thicket of trees possibly stopping or snagging her wings. She had become quite adept in maneuvering around all of the obstacles in her home. The lack of obstacles made her giddy. Absolutely filled with a joy she could have never imagined.

Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie eventually joined Azriel out on the training pad. Nesta stepped beside him, “Why aren’t you flying with her?” She hissed under her breath.

I don’t want to bother her, Azriel thought before Callista landed before them. “Fly with me! Is there anyway we can take Nesta and Gwyn?”

“Actually I cant.” Emerie said taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn—”

“No! I would love to but… I haven’t been able to for a while.” She turned to show her clipped Ilyrian wings. Callista’s face grew serious

“Who did that to you.”

“My father. Hes gone now, but…”

“But nothing. Do you miss it? The flying?” Nesta was ready to yell at her for pushing her friend but Cassian put his hand on her, gesturing for her to wait.

“Everyday.” Emerie replied

Callista turned to Azriel, “Be ready to catch me, okay?”

She walked up to Emery, placing one of her hands on her wing, and one on her arm. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Callista didn’t answer. She began murmuring under her breath, her own wings glowing a soft pink. Emerie’s own wings seemed to glow. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She suddenly let out a gasp, a slight moan leaving her lips as her eyes grew wide.

“Emerie!” Gwyn and Nesta cried

Callista released and took a shaky breath before stepping backwards. Everyone rushed towards Emerie before she spread out her wings. Nesta took a step back as her friend fully stretched her wings, not a hint of pain in sight. Gwyn immediately had her arms wrapped around her friends neck, still in disbelief that her wings felt whole again. Azriel could only stare in shock as everyone inspected Emeries wings. Cassian began asking him how it was even possible. He couldn’t answer. This kind of healing was unheard of. It was impossible to heal clipped wings. It should be impossible. He opened his mouth to ask her how she learned this kind of magic, how long would it last, did she ever have to do this before?

The shadows half whispered half screamed at him to pay attention, his head whipped to see Callista losing consciousness and falling to the ground.

Taglist: @bubybubsters @mich0731 @azziessidehoe @cleverzonkwombatsludge

#acotar #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #Azriel acotar imagine #acotar azriel imagine

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fawnandshadows · 9 months

Text

How You Get The Girl

Chapter 19

AO3

HYGTG Masterlist

Warnings: Language

“This is weird,” Nesta said with her hands on her hips, her sharp blue eyes narrowed as she looked to where Elain lounged on the couch. She brought one elegant hand up and motioned to them. “You guys being together.”

Elain’s back was pressed against Azriel’s chest and his arms were wrapped around her, their fingers intertwined and resting on Elain’s belly. His knees were up and Elain laid in the cradle of his hips.

Cassian stood in the kitchen, eating Lucky Charms straight out of the box, and smirking as he looked at the couple on the couch.

“I knew it.” Cassian stated, moving his brown eyes from the couch to Nesta, knowing that his words irked her.

“You did not.” Nesta said shrilly, turning on her heels.

Cassian’s shit-eating grin lit up his face. His hair was piled in a bun on top of his head, dark curls spilling out and flopping as he nodded his head.

“Bullshit.” Nesta ground out between her teeth. Cassian now taking up her complete attention.

“It’s true,” Cassian smirked. “Ever since he gave the tattoo.”

“The tattoo?”

Cold blue eyes cut through Elain’s ease as Nesta turned back to her. They flitted to Azriel and Elain was thankful Nesta was standing in the middle of the loft and not in the kitchen, surrounded by knives.

“The tattoo,” Elain clarified in a high voice, not looking away when Nesta looked her way. In fact, Elain lifted her chin up. “He did it while we were on tour,” Her tongue came out to wet her lips. “It’s on my hip. And I’m going to get another one. Well, two more.”

Nesta stared at her, frozen.

“Please,” Nesta said in a strained voice. “Tell me our mother doesn’t know.”

Elain shook her head.

“I won’t be able to hide the third one from her, though, and I don’t want to.” Elain said, enjoying the beat of strength that pulsed through her at the words, and tightening her grip on Azriel’s scarred hands.

Nesta looked between them again, knowingly, observingly.

“This,” Nesta motioned between them again. “Better not be just some type of rebellion, Elain, because you know what mom will do when she finds out, and it’d be pretty fucked up to risk Azriel’s job if you saw him as some cheap thrill. And you,” Her knife-like eyes shifted to Azriel. “Better be interested in more than just fucking her.”

Azriel’s body tensed beneath her back.

Elain felt fury buzzing through her blood.

“Yeah, I’d shitcan my career and break Elain’s heart for a fuck.” Azriel said, sarcasm dripping from his voice like acid.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Elain said in his defense. “And you should know that,” She leaned back into him and turned onto her side, so that her back faced her sister. “Everyone should.”

Azriel’s body moved with hers, and he shifted them so that Elain laid between his body and the back of the couch — hiding her from Nesta’s view.

“Do you want to go to your room?” Azriel asked in a low voice, and Elain started shaking her head before he was even finished speaking.

“No, I like it here.” Out in the open, in front of their family.

“They’re both adults, Nes.” Cassian said in a solemn voice, the rustling of the cereal bag stopping.

“I know that,” Nesta snapped, “But that doesn’t mean that he can take advantage—”

“For fucks sake,” Elain jolted upward, her arms propping herself up. “Azriel wouldn’t do that. You’re being insulting to me and Azriel, can you please stop? Maybe try and support us?”

Her arms were shaking under her weight, one arm in the soft couch and the other on Azriel’s hard stomach.

“I’m just trying to—”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Elain cut off her sister, vulnerability clear in her voice. “And I’m asking you to trust me. To support me. This is the one decision I ever made for myself and I don’t need everyone to second guess and belittle it.”

Elain dropped down into Azriel’s chest. His arms coming up to engulf her completely.

After a moment of heavy silence Nesta muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Elain twisted her neck so she could see her sister, her hair almost completely covering her eyes as her cheek pressed against Azriel’s chest. His large hand gently cleared away the hair in front of her face.

“I just really need your support. It’ll be comforting to know that we have you in our corner, especially when we tell mom and dad.”

Hurt flashed in Nesta’s eyes.

“Of course,” Nesta tilted her chin up, and determination solidified in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to — I didn’t mean to come off quite so aggressively. I just don’t want to see either of you hurt,” Her thin brows pulled together. “But I’ll always fight for you.” She brought one hand up to her hip and pushed her shoulders back.

“Thank you.” Elain said softly, allowing herself to smile.

Nesta gave a firm nod and headed towards the door.

“I have to get to the office, I have a meeting with Gwyn and Emerie, but you’re going to the tasting tomorrow, yes?”

Their family’s bourbon company, The Archer’s Bourbon, was having a tasting event tomorrow. One that was promised to be riddled with investors and celebrities with no fun to be experienced for any of the sisters.

“Yeah,” Elain confirmed. “It’s a good opportunity if I want that brand ambassadorship for Cartier.”

Nesta stopped in her tracks and turned around, looking seriously at her sister. “Yes, we all want that,” She raised a finger at her sister. “And you’re going to let your sisters wear all the pieces as well because you’re kind and generous and you know I have a soft spot for diamonds,” She continued on to the door, Cassian walking up behind her. His cereal box was left open on the counter. “Let's go, Lurch.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to Elain and Azriel.

“So,” Elain said, shifting so that her hands were flat on Azriel’s stomach, her chin resting on top of them. “What do you want to do today?”

Azriel looked at her, thinking for a moment before a small smile spread on his lips.

“I have an idea,” Azriel said in a lush voice. “But we’ll need someone to cover Feyre's detail, if she decides to go out. But how’d you like to go on a second date?”

——

tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565 @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #pro elriel #azriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #fawnandshadows writing #how you get the girl #how you get the girl chapter 19

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did-i-ever-ask · 1 year

Text

There aren’t enough angsts on this page:)

Acotar x oc Angst

So it’s not gonna be perfect, cause english isn’t my first language and I didn’t prove read it hehe but lots of fun!

Part 2

For your friends

I have been part of the inner circle for a long while, I have been close to Rhys from the very beginning and we grew even closer after the previous war and the death of his mother and sister, with whom I was very close. It was the same with Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren we all have been a family for so very long and I see all of them as my siblings. I couldn’t be more grateful for such a family.

And then Feyre joined us it felt like everything all over again, from the moment I met her she felt like a part of our family, a new sister for all of us. It was so freeing seeing Rhys light up with love for her after those 50 years of horror. I would lie my life down for each one of them but I didn’t know it was going to be this early.

The hopefully final battle with Hybern started and everything seemed to be going fine. They were strong but not yet overwhelming. I was doing my part as a commander, I fought on the ground, making sure no one broke the formation, but also making way for Amren, Feryre and Nesta.

Everything changed when I heard Nesta‘s devastating scream for Cassian. I looked over to her, confusion veiling my mind, then to Cassian who didn’t seem to have heard her. My gut wrenched, something was wrong, very wrong.

I winnowed to Nesta, grabbing her on the shoulder, whirling her around to look me in the eyes. She was afraid but of what? That unspoken question was answered after she sobbed a „Attack-… Cauldron…“ . Shit.

My head whipped to the main tent on Hybern‘s side and Nesta was right something wasn’t right. I started running towards them, towards Cassian, my best friend who always was there for me, the person I trained for hours with, the person who teased me about falling asleep with my mouth wide open and who then stuffed it full with marshmallows on which I almost choked to death on. My best friend. A person I wouldn’t risk on loosing.

The Cauldron fired. I winnowed. In the air. BOOM!

I had winnowed in between Cassian with his legion and the blast. I had thrown all my might against the blast to stop or redirect it anything so that he wouldn’t get hit. And he didn’t I made sure of that. I looked back into his face. He looked….horrified….why? Oh… I know… haha. I smiled at him. He opens his mouth but no sound. Then first every thing was white and then…. nothing.

Cassian POV:

No.

What? I don’t get it. What happened? That’s not possible. It’s not true. I didn’t see my friend just disappear in front of me. No not Lilith. That’s impossible she is strong. Stronger than I am. Maybe… it’s just a joke right?….

I think I’m screaming… I don’t know what I’m doing. She smiled. I hear a whooshh. And am whirled around to look into the eyes of my brother. Azriel. He has tears in hi eyes. He looks furious. „Snap out of it!“ he screamed in my face. „But…“ I hear myself mumble. „Concentrate! She didn’t di- do that for you to get yourself killed now!“ I don’t say anything. „Fight!“ he says this time softer I feel my head move. I nod.

The past few hours were a blur of blood and weapons but now I‘m standing in Hypern‘s tent next to Mor and Az in front of us our High Lady and sister crying over our High Lord, our brother. First Lilith now Rhys and Amren? It’s just a stupid nightmare right?

Rhys is alive, and Amren just came out of the Cauldron so Lilith is fine too, right? She should be right behind Amren. But no. Nothing.

Mor taps me on the shoulder „What’s the matter?“she asks me. „What?“ I ask her. She should know right? I look around for Azriel. I can’t say it, but he isn’t there. „Lilith-„ amped face falls apart „what-„ she mumbles „The Cauldron it-…she took the attack for us… for me..“ She wobbled first back and then forward. Mor‘s knees gave out and I caught her, she hugged me and stared to sob into my shoulder and I held her.

Do you guys want part 2… maybe a happy ending with time skip?

If you have any requests go for it! Stay healthy!

#acotar #cassian x reader #azriel #rhysand #feyre #cassian #nesta #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #angst #grief #loss

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unhealthyfanobsession · 2 years

Note

Don’t know if your still taking prompts queen but hear me out-

It’s acowar, Nestas just got her first period (as a fae) and it’s meant to be really different to a human cycle right? But what if aswell as it being super painful it also makes females WANT to be around there mate, touch them (even if it’s just touching their hand) be possessive of them but this is nesta who’s obvs very in denial about her crushing on Cassian so she really doesn’t understand this sudden need to be around him but also keeps finding little excuses to try and touch him then in turn it kind of awakens cassians instincts to protect aswell because she’s initiated it- the IC start noticing too (probs mor mostly because she’s always in their business) maybe even try’s to separate them which Cassian and nesta don’t react well too

I took a bit of liberty here but same premise! This one turned me SOFT ya’ll

Nesta assumed she would bleed at some point in this war. She did not assume it would be before anyone even set foot on a damn battlefield. Immortality and magic and superior speed and grace and blah blah blah but Fae women still had to bleed and scream and turn enemy to their own bodies just to produce life? Bad deal if you asked her.

“You should be in bed,” Feyre sighed.

“I’ve been in bed for 2 days,” Nesta glared at her sister from where she stood at the entrance to their strategy tent.

“And you should be for another 3 at least,” Mor piped up.

Nesta only continued glaring, “I can’t lay there anymore.” That seemed to shut people up for at least long enough for her to get into the tent properly. Every eye watched as she drifted across the tent, placing herself between Feyre and Cassian.

It wasn’t a conscious choice. Her body just … moved that way. “Please continue,” she waved a hand, resisting the urge to place it on her stomach.

Feyre spoke and Nesta slowly drifted backwards, moving without thought until she brushed against Cassian’s shoulder.

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered. When did she move so far back?

“Get as close as you want, sweetheart.”

Nesta turned around to glare at him but the twisting motion shot a spasm through her lower back. Without thought, she gripped Cassian’s forearm, holding to him like a lifeline as the pain split her spine in two.

“Breathe,” Cassian said quietly.

Nesta did, nodding her head and taking a hard breath in, letting it out slowly, and never once swearing at the male in front of her or loosening her grip.

When the pain subsided back into a dull ache Nesta straightened, but left her hand resting on Cassian’s arm … in case she needed the support again.

Rhysand made a shocked sounding noise low in his throat and snapped his gaze up to his brother.

Nesta wanted to beat him over the head with the nearest rock. Seriously? 500 years old and he couldn’t deal with a fucking period. Child.

Cassian seemed to sense her impending violence because he laid a hand on her shoulder and pressed softly down.

Oh.

Oh that … that felt good. The heat in his palm. Maybe that was what she needed. Heat and pressure.

“Do you want to lay down, Nes?” His voice was a silken whisper and she hated him for it. Hated him for treating her like she was a fragile little doll.

“Will a nap make my insides turn themselves back into their proper place?” Cassian faltered, “No? Then I think I’ll stay.”

“Nesta this is not something you should suffer through,” Feyre said quietly. “When I had my first cycle-”

“I’ll manage!” Nesta snapped, even as her knees buckled under the pressure of a new cramp. For the love of - someone was stabbing her. They were stabbing her and then slowly pulling the knife down inch by inch.

Cassian’s arms wrapped around her waist quickly, supporting her so she didn’t fall. Nesta could tell he was one bad shake away from slipping an arm under her knees and carrying her back to bed.

And that would be fucking mortifying.

“I’m,” she choked through another cramp, “fine.”

“Yeah,” Mor of all fucking people piped in, “you look fine.”

Cassian’s hands settled a little farther down on her waist and Nesta would never admit it in her right mind, but she pressed into him. The heat and the pressure, it helped. It was like … like he was the only thing holding her insides together beneath her skin.

“Let Cassian take you to bed,” Mor sighed, disgust flickering across her face before resignation.

“You know I’d never say no to that,” he grinned. Nesta pulled her arm up to smack him but the movement was so pathetic he didn’t even bother dodging. Just grabbed her palm and lifted it to his shoulder for more support.

“Feyre can take me,” Nesta panted. Giving up on pretending she could walk on her own.

Feyre stepped forward quickly but Mor’s hand darted out to grab her. “No,” she shook her head. “Cassian. Take her back to her tent.”

“What the fuck is your-”

“I am trying to help you,” Mor spat. “Just listen for once in your life!”

Nesta had never heard Morrigan outright snap like that. Usually she cried or pouted or … Nesta had never seen her yell.

She respected it, truthfully. It was the first honest thing she’d seen Mor do.

“Ok,” she said quietly and so uncharacteristically that the entire room seemed to hold a breath in. “Ok,” she repeated, too tired to fight. “Don’t move your hand,” she whispered, low enough that only Cassian could hear. “Please. It’s … just don’t move it.”

Cassian’s eyes darted to where his palm rested over her lower abdomen and nodded. “I won’t,” he whispered, using his free hand and her grip on his shoulder to lift her easily while maintaining the pressure on her aching stomach.

“I’m pathetic,” Nesta grumbled as her head lulled onto his shoulder. The movement so natural she was certain something had taken over her body. Some strangely buried urge that sought strength at her weakest. That knew he would protect her when she couldn’t.

She blamed that feeling when she curled farther into him. Covered his hand with her own and pressed it into her aching lower belly even as she half fell asleep in his arms.

“It’s ok, Nes.” He whispered against her hair, tucking her head beneath his chin. “You’re safe. It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t leave,” she whispered, though she would deny it in the morning.

“I won’t,” Cassian promised as he laid her on her side and slipped onto the tiny cot behind her. Always keeping one hand pressed to her stomach. With the other, he carefully stroked sweat-slick hair back from her eyes. “I won’t ever leave if you want me to stay, Nes.” She wasn’t sure if the words were real or if she slipped into unconsciousness and dreamt them. “I will be here. You just have to ask,” he whispered, or maybe he didn’t. “You just have to want me here and I would watch the world crumble into dust before I left your side.”

#nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #nesta and cassian #a court of silver flames #acowar #feyre archeron

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queercontrarian · 1 year

Text

my first azris fanfic ehehe

feels like it was just hours ago i told @iftheshoef1tz about this idea (because it was literally hours ago and i just wanted to contribute something to romance week. i know it's not technically meetcute day, but it's whatever day so i can do what i want). anyways, have the unedited first chapter of my modern azris agegap au snippet bundle - that's a lot of words. i'll shut up now. enjoy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Azriel is already in pain when he wakes up, which is usually a bad omen. His knee feels tender, and he hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. It doesn’t bode well for the day he has planned, and he wonders if he should just call Cassian and cancel their hike for today.

With a sigh he forces himself to throw the warm blanket to the side and at least get his feet on the ground. One small step towards starting this day. A coffee would be nice, he thinks, but Nesta has been on his ass to limit his consumption, which is ironic because his sister-in-law drinks much more coffee than he ever has, but if he has one now he won’t allow himself to have one at Cassian’s house later, and he definitely needs that one to make it through the afternoon and the evening without prematurely passing out on his couch.

With nothing else to do, Azriel stands and slowly makes his way to the kitchen, and yes, the knee is definitely going to cause problems. Once again he curses himself for deciding to walk home in the dark after getting shitfaced at Cassian’s and Nesta’s party, for not seeing that dumb root sticking from the ground and for getting his foot stuck under it. Most of all for having gotten to an age where the pain in his joints doesn’t disappear after a maximum of two days. He knows that he’s not twenty-five anymore, but it’s been more than a month since the party, and he can still feel it. Maybe someone should just shoot him, like a lame horse.

Standing in the kitchen he stares at the coffee pot on the stove, a fancy little espresso maker Rhys got him for his fifty-third birthday, along with a trip to Italy. He realises he hasn’t left these woods since that trip, except for his weekly trip to get groceries at the town’s supermarket, and visiting Rhys and Cassian at their homes located around that same forest he lives in. He’s been moving around, contained to that twenty-five mile radius, for two years.

On second thought, maybe he will have a coffee. While he reaches for the espresso box - another expensive gift from his friends - and both his knee and his shoulder pop this time, he remembers that he went to Greece for Feyre and Rhys’ wedding. That was last year, so he can still count that towards his “recently been active” list. Hanging out with family, travelling overseas. Suck on that, Cassian, he thinks. I’m going places, I’m not rotting away all alone in my cabin. I don’t need to “get out more”. I don’t need to “meet new people”. I’m perfectly fine where I am.

Granted, he is alone right now - he takes his eyes off the stove to look towards the window where Mr. Goggles used to sit. The cat had already been old - and named, as Az always feels the need to stress - when Feyre had given him into Azriel’s care because there was no space for him in Rhysand’s house. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the room - Rhysand’s mansion has more rooms than the two of them can possibly know what to do with - Rhys is just very allergic to cats. So Az had taken the grumpy old furball in and they had lived together for nearly three years. Now Mr. Goggles sleeps in the earth below his favourite window sill, under a small bush of white pansies that Elain says remind her of the fur pattern on his face. Azriel wonders what flowers she’ll put on his grave when he dies. Will they bury him next to the window behind his favourite armchair too? He wants to be cremated, but he’d be fine with a cardboard urn like Mr. Goggles’ casket.

The whistling and clattering of the espresso maker pulls him out of his thoughts. It’s not all that bad. Sure, maybe retiring so early was a mistake - he doesn’t need the money, he just misses having something to do - but when Cassian and Rhys left he hadn’t felt like being the only one to stay behind. Maybe he underestimated just how empty his cabin would feel once he spent more than just the nights and weekends there, with his brothers spending the majority of their time with their wives, ten miles through the forest in the homes they’d built for themselves. He’s not lonely, he doesn’t need or want anyone else in his house, or his life for that matter. The area feels crowded enough with just Old Man Schmidt down the street. Maybe he’ll get another cat. Nesta has mentioned occasionally seeing one roaming about where her office is.

While he sips his coffee he’s still debating whether to call the hike off - his body tells him yes but his brain says if he mentions it to Cassian he’ll come to his house to inspect the old injury himself, and he hasn’t even told him he fell in the first place, and he will undoubtedly notice the pathetic state of Azriel’s house. Everything is reasonably tidy, but it’s painfully obvious no other human being has stepped through the door in months, maybe even a year. The last time he had people over was for Mr. Goggles’ funeral, for Christ’s sake. Azriel shifts his weight onto the damaged knee and immediately regrets it. He bites back a pained groan, letting his head fall back against the cabinet.

Cass would tell him to see a physician. Az hates going to the doctor, and not only for the usual reasons - he hadn’t gotten the memo that it was a bad idea to sleep with, have a messy entanglement and then ditch the only medical professional for nearly 200 miles. He’s not gotten a check-up in almost four years. Neither of his brothers knows that though, and he would rather die than tell them, both about the problem and the reason behind it. Fifty-five feels like the worst age to come out to your life-long best friends.

Summer is already fading, but the sun is still warm on Azriel’s skin. He tilts his face up to the sky as he walks, before he quickly remembers he doesn’t want to sustain another injury and he concentrates on the dirt road under his feet again. He grits his teeth through the strain on his leg and keeps walking.

The quickest path to Cassian’s house leads him from the treeline where his cabin is straight through the clearing past Old Man Schmidt’s property and through the woods. He’s walked this path a thousand times, but something is off today. Old Man Schmidt never has guests over, but this morning there’s a new car in his driveway. When Azriel crosses the street he realises it’s not just the new car, there’s a moving van as well, and parts of the garden are ripped open from construction, old furniture and materials, tools and workers all over the lawn. Az has always been curious, and he’s a little perturbed that he hasn’t noticed what has apparently been going on for a few days already. Has he really been that disconnected from his surroundings? He wanders off the path and up to the fence, leaning against the gate. He tells himself it looks at least a little cool but really he’s just trying to take the weight off his knee. He doesn’t recognise the licence plate on the car, and he tries to look around for Schmidt but he’s nowhere to be found. The last time they spoke he hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to sell his house. Then again, the last time they spoke was six months ago. Maybe things have changed.

“Can I help you?” Azriel turns his head so fast it almost gives him whiplash, his carefully combed hair immediately falling into his face, obstructing his view. He was so immersed in his snooping that he hadn't noticed the man stepping up to the fence.

“Um, yeah. I’m looking for Schmidt? Boris Schmidt, he lives here,” he manages to say, buying himself a minimal amount of valuable time as he sizes the other man up. He seems to be in his late twenties or early thirties, tall and muscular with silky short hair that is so red Azriel wonders if it’s dyed. None of Feyre’s attempts to colour her hair have turned out this perfect though, so he thinks it just might be real, or done by a very, very pricey stylist. Everything about the stranger screams expensive, from his hair to his crisp white shirt and leather boots. He even smells like it, and Azriel is suddenly very aware that out of all the things he has on, only the shirt and the underwear have been washed in the last three days, and he can’t even remember the last time he put on cologne.

“Mr. Schmidt doesn’t live here anymore. Hasn’t for over a month,” the stranger explains, and his voice is deep and smooth, feels like it wraps itself around Azriel, sliding through his ears and into his brain, muddling his thoughts.

“Oh,” is all he can get out. There’s a short pause where the stranger only stares at Az with his amber eyes, waiting for him to say something more.

Then he asks “Are you the neighbour?”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Yes I am. Are you moving in?” The stranger smiles, and good Lord above he is beautiful. Azriel swallows hard around the feeling suddenly bubbling up in his chest, through his throat and spilling into his mouth. He is too old to be reacting like this over a pretty boy.

“I am. Eris Vanserra,” the stranger introduces himself, reaching his hand over the gate. Azriel shakes it.

“Azriel,” he answers, then quickly adds, “Azriel Kantor.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Azriel nearly wishes Eris would stop talking because it is incredibly hard for him to concentrate on coming up with answers when his hand is burning where the man’s skin has touched his, and this is getting ridiculous. Just because he hasn’t gotten laid in one and a half years?

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says, and means it for once. “I, uh, I live right down there. Can’t miss it.” He vaguely gestures behind himself with the burned hand, trying to shake that feeling off.

“Not like there’s many other houses around,” Eris replies smoothly, a faint smirk still on his lips, and Azriel has to pinch his arm to stop himself from staring.

“Yes. Only me. But my friends live south from here right through the forest. I’m actually going to visit them-” He trails off, and unfortunately the other man picks it up right where he left it.

“Azriel,” he says, embarrassingly breathless from forcing out that one word. Way too late he realises that maybe it was intentional, maybe Eris would prefer not calling him by his first name, and not having Azriel call him by his in turn. He’s being awfully presumptuous. But Vanserra only hesitates for a moment before giving him another smile.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you." Eris is already stepping away from the fence. "I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Kantor.”

“Azriel,” he repeats, slowly, savouring every letter. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He lets a few seconds pass by silently where neither of them move. Then he turns and leaves him standing at the gate, glued to the spot like an idiot.

“You too,” Az calls dumbly after him, too late and too slow. Eris doesn’t look back, only lifts his hand with the smallest hint of a wave, and Azriel quickly looks away and returns to the dirt path, hands buried in the pockets of his pants.

Miles and hours later he can still hear the echo of his name from Eris’ lips in his mind when he raises his hand to ring Cassian’s doorbell.

Maybe he’ll walk back later instead of having Cassian drop him off at home after the hike. His knee doesn’t seem that bad anymore.

#modern azris au #old man azriel #has talked to eris once (1 time) and is already down horrendously bad #sjmromanceweek2023 #do not mention the picture #i needed something to mark the post #hashtag graphic design is my passion #kantor is about as close as i can get to calling azriel shadowsinger #sexy agegaps? we only know pain. physical and emotional #also rip mr goggles you will be missed

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