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prythianpages · 2 months

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When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath.

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it.

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you...

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze. You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection.

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

“I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her. “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher.

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear, he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face.

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fluff #abba x acotar

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writeroutoftime · 2 months

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pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground.

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body.

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard.

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out.

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred.

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him.

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #actoar cassian x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

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Princess

Azriel x Reader

One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it.

You can find the prologue in the Princess masterlist.

General masterlist

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death

Chapter 1

Feyre showed you the first guest room and started walking toward the second one, but your voice stopped her “This one is fine”.

She looked at you with kindness, her features soft and a small smile decorating her face. “You know… the first time I visited the night court I was wearing a similar dress”.

“Your wedding dress… yes we all heard” you smiled.

She chuckled and continued “I was scared, I had only heard awful rumours about the night court and Rhysand so trust me when I say that it’s all bullshit. Rhysand is kind and thoughtful, the same goes for everyone in this house… maybe not for Nesta but she loves us in her own twisted way” You kept staring at her not quite understanding why she was telling you all of this. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that we will protect you and be by your side for as long as you need, even forever, but if you try to harm any of us the consequences will be like the rumours of this court.” You gulped and took a step back, your eyes quickly scanned the room for possible hiding places, Feyre noticed and lifted her hands up “Hey calm down, I didn’t mean to scare you, but you are a stranger that Mor brought here and as the High Lady of this court it is my duty to inform you. I must make sure that my people are safe. I know that Mor wouldn’t bring someone dangerous here, but females forced to wed is a soft spot for her and it might cloud her vision.”

You stared at her, guilt building in you. Ladies should please others. “High Lady Feyre I’m so sorry if I offended you. You are right you should protect your people” you replied, a polite smile appearing on your face. She frowned but said nothing more, with a nod she disappeared down the hall, probably back in the dinning room.

You entered the room, it was twice the size of the main room in your cottage, you stared at the huge bed in the middle, the windows that looked like paintings because of the view outside. Soft fae lights decorated the room creating a gentle atmosphere. A sigh left your lips and you walked to the closet, curious if you would find anything inside, you really needed to get rid of this dress. To your surprise the closet was filled with every kind of clothes but none like your usual attire. Everything here was so revealing, you remembered one time that you saw a dress like those back in the winter court, you quickly tried it on but immediately regretted it when you saw your mother’s face filled with disgust. Ladies keep their bodies for their husbands. Only the females working in the brothels wear things like that.

You opened the drawers to find something less revealing and you were met with multiple pairs of pants and shirts. You almost gasped. There must have been some mistake maybe a male was staying in this room before me. You thought. A female can’t wear those, right? You grabbed a long-sleeved nightgown and entered the bathroom. You were met with a deep bathtub. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you jumped back when water started to pour in it. You scanned the bathroom, but no one was there. Maybe some kind of spell? You stripped your clothes and entered the bathtub hissing when your leg touched the water. So hot you thought and closed your eyes as you laid inside, every muscle relaxed, your body going numb but not in a bad way. When you boiled water, you always thought how it would be like if for once you bathed in hot water. Turns out it is better than you could ever imagine. You thought about what Azriel said “raised like a princess”, everyone seemed to believe that, you did too. You saw the females in your village working and you always thought that you were getting special treatment because you didn’t work. But raised like a princess? You doubted that. You didn’t even know the feeling of hot water around your body until now. You stayed in the bathtub until you were sleepy enough. You dried yourself with the soft towel and tried the nightgown, you frowned when you saw the length… mid-thigh. You pulled it until it reached beneath your knees and slipped into bed. You stared at the ceiling; you were exhausted but the feeling that anyone could walk in at any time kept you awake.

Sleep finally came and your body relaxed -still facing the door.

You woke up just when the sun appeared in the sky, the city even brighter. You watched the river, so calm yet wild. You tried to find a dress decent enough for your taste -or your mother’s taste, finally you saw one, midnight blue with long sleeves and it reached your knees. This will do. You thought. You usually wore light colours since your mother believed that a proper lady should look gentle and sweet, but this colour looked good on you too, it made you look powerful.

You walked around the house enjoying the silence and trying to find the kitchen. After countless guest rooms and bathrooms, you finally found it.

You searched the cabinets and after collecting all the ingredients you needed you started cooking. You hummed a song your mother had taught you and twirled around to pick the spatula almost smacking on a hard chest. You gasped and took a step back, hazel eyes were staring down at you, a musky scent of cedar and smoke filling your senses. Azriel’s face was cold, even colder that the ice in your court, the thought made you shiver.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, his deep voice was raspy probably because he just woke up.

“Breakfast” you stuttered. You wanted to disappear.

“The house can do that” he rolled his eyes and left.

You frowned and continued cooking, feeling stupid for even trying but you wanted to thank them for taking you in and cooking was one of the few things you could do.

You finished the food and placed it on the dining table, footsteps echoed through the house and a few minutes later everyone was in the dining room. “Smells so good” Cassian breathed and started filling his plate. “You made that?” Feyre asked.

“Yes, as a thank you for accepting me in your court” you replied with a small smile.

Azriel stared at his plate, it was still empty. Suddenly a platter with several kinds of food appeared next to him and he started to eat. You frowned but didn’t dare to say anything.

“Y/n, would you like to go shopping with me today?” Mor asked you.

You glanced at Rhysand and Feyre.

“You don’t have to wait for our approval” Feyre’s voice was soft.

“But before you leave, I need to see you in my office” Rhysand added.

You gulped but nodded anyway.

Your attention moved to Azriel who dropped his fork and stared at Rhysand, their eyes unfocused. “They are having a mental conversation” Cassian told you as he noticed your curious look.

“You can talk in each other’s minds?” you gaped. “Rhysand is daemati” Nesta spoke with a bored look.

You didn’t know what else to say, your questions seemed to annoy her, so you kept your mouth shut. A few moments later Azriel stormed out and Rhysand pinched his nose.

“Let’s go to my office” he told you and got up, you followed him and almost flinched when you saw Azriel already in there. Rhysand took a seat behind his desk and cleared his throat. “I asked Azriel to go back to your court and find out everything he could about you and your family. Turns out that everything you told Mor was true, so it is my pleasure to welcome you in my court.” “Thank you” you bowed your head. “Please don’t do that, I want you to consider me your friend. I want to help you find your own personality, you need to find your own strength. Your goal should be to become powerful and confident not someone’s wife.” He continued. You could only stare, no one ever spoke to you like that, no one offered to help you become something else.

“I know that you and Azriel don’t get along, that’s why he is assigned to show you the city and help you with everything you need. I hope this will be enough for you to toughen up”

Silence.

Your jaw almost touched the ground. Azriel was fuming, he opened his mouth to protest but Rhysand lifted a finger and dismissed you both with a “That’ll be all” and a smile.

You exited the office and were pushed against the wall, scarred hands grabbed your arms and kept them above your head, a hot breath against your cheek.

“You won’t speak without my permission, you won’t follow me around like a toddler and you won’t seek me out. I will come find you when I want to.” He growled. “Is that understood?”

You stared at him, your eyes filling with tears and your body shaking. You frantically nodded your head wanting to get as far away from him as you could.

“Words princess” “Y-yes” you stuttered.

And with that he was gone, only a few shadows stayed who approached you and caressed your cheeks, drying the tears you weren’t able to hold back.

You couldn’t go to Rhys you knew he would tell Azriel, and you didn’t want to find out what the consequences would be for you. You went back to your room.

You dreaded the moment he would find you again.

What do you think?

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

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matan4il · 7 months

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As I promised to update, I'm back from the hospital and I'm okay.

Food was starting to run out (only had enough left for about half a day), I really didn't want to go to the store when it's dangerous to be away from the bomb shelter, but had no choice. Got food, but there's no bottled water to be found anywhere, exactly when Israeli citizens were instructed last night to stock up our bomb shelters with enough dry food and bottled water for at least three days.

The number of confirmed dead is officially at 900 (still not final), the number of wounded is at over 2,600, the number of kidnapped is at least 150. The number of terrorists who breached Israel's border and massacred civilians on Saturday is estimated to be at least 1,500.

I mentioned Mor and her grandmother already, but I felt like hearing her telling their story is important enough to share this vid. Testimonies like this are coming out in incomprehensible numbers.

Since the beginning of this war on Israel on Saturday, five independent terrorist attacks were attempted and stopped. Thankfully, no one was reported to have been murdered, though there are casualties.

In Egypt, a soldier guarding tourists (likely inspired by Hamas' massacre) opened fire at a group from Israel. He murdered two Israelis and their Egyptian local tour guide. At least one more person was also wounded in this terror attack.

There have been rockets fired into Israel from the north by Hezbollah (while Hamas fires thousands of rockets from the south) and there was also a breach of Israel from the north by another terrorist organization named Islamist Jihad. During this, Israel's northern citizens were instructed to lock themselves inside their homes. All of the terrorists who infiltrated Israel from the north were killed, but so was an Israeli commander, Alim Abdallah. He was supposed to finish his army service this coming Sunday. May his memory be a blessing.

On a personal note, my former boss' son was killed (may his memory be a blessing. ז"ל), and one of my colleagues has been kidnapped and is held hostage in Gaza.

Another personal story is that of Lior Asulin. He was a talented soccer player. Among other clubs, he played for an Arab team and helped it become Israel's soccer champion. He was murdered at the music festival that he went to in order to celebrate his birthday, and where at least 270 young people were butchered (ז"ל).

There's news from other countries about anti-Israeli demonstrations where the massacre of innocent Israelis is celebrated, in Australia the pro-Palestinian demonstrators shouted "Fuck the Jews" as well as "Gas the Jews."

In at least one protest a pro-Israeli demonstrator was beaten up:

And already there are antisemitic incidents, where Jewish establishments outside of Israel are being targeted.

Countries whose citizens are known to have been kidnapped or murdered by Hamas in the attack on Israel:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #antisemitism #jewish #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr

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littlemisssatanist · 1 month

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my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

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the-kr8tor · 17 days

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Between the Devil...

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW suggestive, TW blood, CW panic attack, TW death, CW violence.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 14 >>> CHAPTER 15

You wake up to home.

Hobie's arm is slung on top of you, hand holding your own even in his sleep. His leg lays over your own protectively like he's shielding you from unforeseen dangers that lurk in the drafty barn. His hot breath fans your nape, lips brushing along the skin like stone skipping on a lake. You sigh, squeezing his hand, head lying comfortably on his other arm.

You're careful when you shift your weight so that his arm won't fall asleep, but judging by the sun's rays entering the small window behind you— you're sure his arm is already numb.

For a split second from waking up, there's a small part of you that thought you'd wake up alone. You're glad that part of you is wrong.

As if his senses are attuned to yours, he wakes up with a sigh before you felt his smile on your nape. His piercing is warm as he leaves featherlight kisses on your skin.

“Good dream?” You say through the fog of affection.

“I didn't dream,” you twist in his arms to look at him. Those grey eyes you love do much are properly rested, pupils blown out, content and peaceful. “Don't worry, that's a good thing. I haven't slept this well since— a long time. The closest I got was on our island.” He smiles, hand cradling the side of your head, thumb nonchalantly placed on your bottom lashes, careful not to accidentally poke you. You trust him not to.

“You're welcome by the way.” You joke, resisting the urge to kiss the goofy smile on his lips.

“Yes, thank you for eating my face off last night.”

“Please, you loved it. And it's not like you went hungry last night either.” Your skin is still warm from where he touched you. Your lips still remember how he tasted and how he moved with you in tandem.

Humming, he pecks your forehead. “I think I'm gettin' hungry again.” With a laugh, he rubs your bare legs with his frozen foot.

“Your feet are cold.” Instead of moving away, you scoot closer, which was already impossible since you're already laying next to him chest to chest. You can feel his chest rise and fall against the thin cloth of your slip. Nosing his neck, he fixes your fallen collar to hide your shoulder away from the cold. “Hmm, your hands are warm though.” You coo, fingers subtly inside his shirt, fingertips dancing around his hip.

“Can't say the same thing for your hands.”

“You have cold feet but warm hands and I have cold hands but warm feet. We're perfect for eachother.”

Hobie chuckles, you can feel the deep rumble in his chest. “Put ‘em all together and we'd both have normal temperatures.”

Giggling, he buries his nose atop your head, letting himself drown in you. With the comfortable silence, the various animals below the hayloft huff and chew, the hay under your bodies are scratchy and pointy so Hobie lifts you up slightly so he takes the brunt of the pointed hay, so you don't get itchy from the dry material. Your chin rests just below his clavicle, hands caged around his head, lips curled into a smile.

His heart almost stops when the golden rays kisses your face, the light from the window hits your form perfectly, blanketing you in its glow. Eyes shining, linen slip leaving almost nothing to the imagination, dust flying around you like fireflies— he thinks he has died in his sleep and is now in front of heaven's gates. Standing and gawking at the marvelous sight.

“You alright?” You ask like you didn't take his breath away.

“Are you real?”

You snort, “of course I am.”

“Then I'm alright.” Hobie's knuckles knead at your lower back, warming you from the cold. Hand gripping your waist, you feel right at home.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you and Hobie take a minute to bask in the silence and the slowness of the morning; just like on your little island where you learned to appreciate and truly know each other, you both just lay there and stare tenderly like the other would disappear from view.

“I've been meaning to—” You both say at the same time.

Chortling, you gesture for him to go first, “Captain first.”

“Ladies first.” He smirks, patting your back.

“You and I both know I'm not a lady, you're not much of a gentleman either.”

“I know, a lady doesn't snog like that.”

“Fine, I won't kiss you like that anymore.” You joke, acting like you're about to sit up, he brings you back down tutting with a knowing smile. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling but he quickly remedies that by stealing a kiss right under your nose.

Giggling, nose bumping, you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Giving him what he needed, Hobie grips your waist tighter as if someone would rip you away from him. With a deep groan, he lifts your face up to breathe. He finds that he loses his breath frequently when you're near him.

Staring at your kiss bitten lips, he flips you back to the makeshift bed, leg hooked around yours. You let out a surprised sound from the back of your throat to which he silences with a peck. Fingers twirling at the little baby hairs on his nape, he unwillingly lets out a laugh against your lips.

Breaking the kiss, you look at him playfully and he knows exactly what you're about to say.

“You're ticklish!” You exclaim, eyes flicking down to the swinging pearl necklace, it hangs above you and you resist the urge to pull it down so you could kiss him again.

“Just on my neck—” you're already wiggling your fingers, “—dont.” He warns you with a stern glare, but it doesn't last as he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Surrendering, melting into.

“Alright, I won't exploit that knowledge. For now at least.” Hugging him, it's your turn to massage his back. His dress shirt is wrinkled under your touch, you guess the random lord from last night had a very rude awakening when he woke up in his knickers.

“You really do love me.” Hobie mumbles into your skin with wonderment. He doesn't recognize your scent with all the perfumes they doused you in, but it's there, it's faint, yet it's still you underneath it all. Still the scuttlebutt he fished out of the sea.

“I think I proved that last night. Do you want me to say it again?” You're prepared to say it a hundred times a day for him, knowing that those three words won't lose any meaning; and with every utterance of it would set it in stone and in his heart.

He hums, content, the rumble echoing throughout your body.

“I love you.” You embrace his head and in turn, he buries his face into the crook of your arm. “Love you,” peppering the side of his face with warm kisses, you smile through it all. “Satisfied, cap’n?”

“Very.” He sniffs, trying to hide his lopsided smile and stuttered breathing. “What was it you were about to ask?” With a sigh, he lets off of you, now laying side by side, hip to hip. He slithers his arm under you to hold you against his chest while his other hand plays with your intertwined fingers. “Were you about to ask why I attacked Miguel first? I figured your injury made you forget.”

“No,” you stare at your dancing hands in the sunlight. He can feel your new calluses that match his own. “I don't wonder about that anymore.”

“You don't want to know about it?” Hobie cranes his neck to look at your content face. “You, who wants to know about everything?”

“It doesn't matter anymore, it got us here, right?” He nods, the creases in between his eyebrows flattens, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Does it put us in danger?” He shakes his head. “Will it hurt me?” Shaking his head again, you continue. “Then it doesn't matter. I just know that the tension got you both riled up, and it was enough for you two to lunge at each other.”

“It was pride, love.” Hobie swallows thickly. “But you're right if you don't want to know then I won't tell you.”

“Thank you,” You squeeze his hand, fingers slotting perfectly on his own. “I was about to ask how you are. How are you faring in all of this? Everyone keeps asking how I am but no one has asked how you are. You keep dodging it every time I ask. ”

“Does it matter?”

“It does,” you say breathlessly with a sigh. “How are you? Truly?”

“Tired, I think I just want to stay here with you in this musty barn.” You blink, waiting for the rest. “But I'm alright, keep holding on to me like this and I'll be better.”

You smile, sitting up by your elbow to look down at him, to see him fully. “It'll be over soon,” hand on his chest, you feel his heartbeat. “I promise, then we can do whatever we want. Go wherever we want.”

“Do whatever we want?” He teases with a playful smile.

“Yes,” you lean down to rub your nose against his own. It makes him shiver, hands holding you tight on your waist. “I kind of want to stay at a lighthouse for a bit after we figure it out.”

“A lighthouse?”

“Mm-hmm, easier to defend while we plan out things. Plus,” you brush your lips over his own teasingly. “It can only house two people.”

Hobie's breath hitches in his throat. “What are we waitin’ for then? Let's go find the wanker and stay at our tower.”

You giggle whilst he kicks the thick blanket off you. “Or maybe a new ship.” He pauses, neck slowly moving to look at you with a face that says ‘go on.’ “With better defenses, a hundred cannons and a huge fucking sail that can take us anywhere.”

“You gonna build us a boat then? Made out of bricks and steel like your lighthouse?”

You scoff, “that'll be the day. My uncle has a ship docked in the capital, if something happens—”

“Nothin', nothin' will happen.” He pulls you in closer, heartbeats synching, fingers digging in your arm. Yet, he's careful to not leave a mark or make you feel the dull press.

“If, if something does happen, we'll meet there. She's called ‘The Osprey.’ You have my permission to take it, captain.”

“Why are you talkin’ like this?” Concern wracks his body. “Do you know somethin’ I don't?”

“No, it's just that…it's been too good, too plain sailing—” you've been too happy recently. “That I think something will happen, something that would make our plan fail.”

“What do you mean? You got hurt, that's not good, love.”

“I'll live. I meant that you and the crew got out without a hitch. You found me without getting caught and no one has even tried to actively kill me. And Miguel...he told me it might be the king who did all of it. Who commanded Mathias to do it because he wanted to marry my mother. That's what I'm worried about.”

“Do you trust his word?”

“I just think there's something else he missed. That he might be wrong.”

“Do you trust Miguel?”

“A part of me does, I don't know.”

“Who do you think it was then?”

You exhale sharply. “I think there's another cog we don't know about. Miguel told me the king is a buffoon, an idiot. And from what I've seen— do you think an idiot is capable of orchestrating it?”

“Idiocracy could be dangerous too. I'll dig around the estate.” Before you could protest, he gazes tenderly at your nervous eyes. “I'll be careful, I'll dress like the staff, if I get noticed they won't talk.”

You nod, trusting him.

Sitting up to cradle your head in his calloused hands, he smiles to reassure you, attuned to your own worry. “That won't happen. If somethin' does happen, I won't let it.”

“You don't know that, Hobie.” Your chest feels heavy, hands suddenly tensing up. “We failed the last time and the time before that. If it happens again— leave me.”

“No, do you think I crossed the bloody sea, rowed a million times to this city and fought with my crew— my family, just to leave you behind?” His voice is determined. “'m not leaving you.” Taking your tensed hand, he places it on his chest, letting his steady heartbeat calm you, even though he's terrified too.

“No more sacrifices.” Hobie breathes out, hands trembling.

A tear escapes your eye. Nodding your head, you compose yourself, sniffing, letting the thumping of his heart wash over you. You're scared, rightfully so, knowing that you might be against the crown itself. A powerful being, whose word is law.

You finally have your reason not to flee and he finally has his reason not to carve like the knife that he is.

And you're both holding it in your hands.

“You're good to me, Hobie Brown. Too good.” With your confession, grey pools whirl into guit, he has something to confess too.

“Your mother's letter,” his words make your heart stutter. “She wrote not to trust anyone. I intended to hold that burden for you but it's not my decision, so please, don't trust anyone, Y/N.”

“I trust you.”

“And I, you. I love you, whatever happens, know that I do.” His grey eyes swirl with anxiety, hands trembling for fear of death. Not for him but for you, the thought of you lying dead in his arms burns him inside out. And he's more than willing to spread the fire, to burn everything around him if it happens. “I promise I won't let it happen.” He whispers, head placed on your chest, praying that if fate cuts your thread, that they'll cut his too. “We'll have our lighthouse and our ship one day. I promise.”

In that rickety barn, you whisper promises of life to each other.

—

Sneaking out was easier when you had the darkness on your side. Now that the sun has risen and the residents of Hazelside now flock the land, you skitter around to get back inside the estate.

With a quick peck on your lips that has your knees weak, (that shouldn't even be called a simple peck) he reluctantly lets you go. It's not like you wanted to leave him either when he looks properly kissed by you. With his dress shirt completely opened, chest exposed to the golden rays. Elbow propped up, he lounges on the hay with a grin, a picture of someone who's absolutely satisfied, who knows why your skin is on fire and why your hands shake as you come down the hayloft’s ladder.

You shake your head, waving the image away from your brain, tucking it under the folds like a secret. You have to focus, hands holding the blanket over your shivering body, (not to mention how exposed you feel in the almost sheer nightgown) you hide behind a tree when a worker passes by.

Then something in you clicks, you technically own the place so why should you be ashamed? Granted, you did slip away in the night to spend it with Hobie, but they don't know that. So why sneak when you can confidently walk back inside like you own the place. You do own it, your family owns it, so you straighten up your back with confidence, blanket draped around you like an expensive cloak, you strut back inside the little crevice you came out of.

There's goosebumps rising on your arms when you feel their eyes on you. They stop from harvesting the trees, gawking at the new (disheveled) barefooted duchess trudging the field. Scratching their heads, they shrug and just like you thought, they let you on your way without a word.

Speed walking back to the old wooden door, you tamp down a laugh from how ridiculous you must've looked like.

As you close the door, darkness greets you once again. And you already miss him.

Following the walls with your touch, you stop when you hear muffled voices from the other path that you didn't take last night. Straining your ears, you hear arguing. With your curiosity, you follow the sound.

The path leads to a deadend. Light filters through on your left, touching the wall— it's rough and wooden on your palm. It's a bookshelf, you surmise. Peeking through the cracks, you see Victoria and Frederick arguing. And his wife seems to be winning.

Your uncle has his head in his hands, sitting down on a plush armchair whilst his wife screams at him with urgent words.

“—word is law!” She yells, voice shaking.

“I know.” Frederick says in a defeated tone. “Fucking fuck!” He stands up abruptly, pacing back and forth. “Did my father tell you about it?”

“Me?” Victoria scoffs, “he's your father! Not mine!”

“How could he—” Frederick sounds like there's cotton in his mouth, sentence in full disbelief. “He was close to them…how could he—fuck! And here I thought— I thought he didn't have anything to do with it. I've always had a feeling but…” he wipes his oily face with his hands roughly. “The three of them, christ, that poor girl.” Your heart plunges in your stomach.

“It's either us or her.” Victoria shakes her husband. “What would happen to our children if we refuse? What of John and Collette?”

“I don't want to—” Frederick stutters when his wife holds his face softly.

“But we have to.” She nods and he follows.

The door to their chambers fly open suddenly, and out comes a smiling John, completely oblivious to what transpired.

“The artist’s here!” He pauses mid step when he sees his parents' faces. “Collette’s on her way to wake her up— are you both alright?”

“We're fine, Jojo.” Frederick pats his son's shoulder, “let's greet him.”

As they leave the room, with the door clicking softly, you feel for your dagger. The familiar shape of it is missing on your thigh, you rush towards your room with a heavy heart. Your weak leg hinders you from running full speed but you persevere before they could get to you first.

Wincing, entering your room through the secret passage, you fling the tapestry away. Collette greets you with a blinding smile and a lilac dress on top of your bed.

“Oh there you are! I see you found the passages. Where'd you go off to?”

“I think I need to go.” You rapidly take your sparse belongings.

“Wait—what?” She takes your hand away from your shoes. “Why? You just got here!” Her face contorts into worry and sadness.

“I—” you heave from the exertion. “I'm sorry, Collette.” She's innocent from all of this, you thought as you grip her hand. You hear numerous footsteps outside the halls. It's too late to run. In a split second, you make a decision. “Can you do me a favour?” She nods tentatively. “Go to Miguel and tell him—” there's knocking on your doors. “Tell him I need him. Tell him my mother needs him.”

Collette shakes her head with confusion, her curls bouncing on her head as she moves. “Your mother?”

“Just tell him that, please? When you can…just please.”

He's your only hope, he has the power to take you away because he promised. Even if you and Hobie fight your way out of Hazelside, it won't be enough. Heart in your stomach, you fear for his life, not your own. You decide to act, to play the part until Collette brings Miguel back. So you play the perfect duchess like they've always wanted. For Hobie.

His words echo in your mind— ‘no more sacrifices’ and you apologize to him silently.

“I'll—” she understands the urgency in your tone and from your worried eyes. “— I'll tell him myself. You can trust me, cousin.”

“Thank you.” You embrace her, with an almost silent whisper, you tell her about him. Another promise broken at your feet. “There's a man staying in the barn, tell him to leave. Please.” She doesn't have enough time to reciprocate the hug as the door creaks open.

“Oh good, you're awake.” You don't miss how her voice wavers, so do her children. There's an army of handmaidens behind her, “we need to get you ready for your portrait.”

—

You sit stiffly on the velvet chair. The plush seat is in deep purple to match the soft lilac of your dress. The gown is tight on your body, bodice covered in gold stars and golden threads. Corset tight like a cage around your ribs. Sleeves fully puffed, ruffles looking like the waves of the salty sea. The skirt engulfs you, heeled shoes uncomfortable on your feet, making your weak leg shake under the mass of your skirt.

It all suffocates you as the artist forbids you to even move a muscle. Jaw clenched tightly, hand almost breaking the stem of the rose that they forced you to hold. The jewelry on your ears and neck is heavy, cold rubies making you shiver. With the finest garment and expensive yet heavy jewelry, you miss the weight of the dagger on your thigh. You couldn't get the chance to hide it under your skirt when all eyes were on you. Numerous handmaidens come and go from your room as their hands frantically get you ready for the portrait.

Just like the uneasiness in you, Collette stands shakily near her brother, eyes never leaving your stiff form, nervous and worried. And just like the dagger, she couldn't escape the dozens of eyes on her, she couldn't find the right time to escape and warn Hobie and Miguel. You trust that she will tell them, you have to.

Your mother's voice whispers in your mind, ‘Don't trust anyone’ you feel like you're drowning again.

You can hear Collette's deep sigh from across the violet room. The scratchy sound of the painter’s brush against the canvas irks you, makes your ears twitch from annoyance.

Your so called aunt and uncle sit on the couch like nothing happened, like they're not planning for your demise. A tower of sweets sits at the table, colourful cookies decorating their plates, fragrant teas in their opulent cups.

“Collette, darling.” Frederick calls, “you should play something on the pianoforte. I bet Sir Remus here would appreciate the soothing sound.”

“I prefer the quiet, Monsieur.” The artist says in a rigid tone. He dips his brush into a dollop of purple paint, smearing it on his pallet. You follow his movements like he's about to pounce at you and stab you with his brush. “If you don't mind— my lady, please refrain from moving.” He stares at you sternly, pointing his long finger at you accusingly.

“I wasn't moving.” You say through gritted teeth. He doesn't reply, returning to his canvas.

“Can I please be excused?” Collette asks timidly. Her tone raises an eyebrow on her brother's face.

“No, you may not.” Victoria scoffs out, you wonder if she knows.

The stem on the rose digs at your palms.

“But—” Collette turns to her father.

“Listen to your mother.” Frederick doesn't even look at her.

“It'll be your turn soon enough, Collette. Learn from your cousin, be patient and it'll all be fruitful.” Your aunt stares at you above her cup.

“What will be fruitful?” You ask, tone commanding, eyes alight.

“The portrait. You already look wonderful from here.” You can feel the lie in her throat.

“Bullshit.” Your voice echoes around the silent room.

Everyone pauses, frozen on the spot, eyes trained to your furious face. The painter scoffs with an amused smile.

“Excuse me?” Victoria clutches her pearls. “We do not use that foul language here, especially in front of a guest.”

“I'm terribly sorry. Please tell me what this portrait is for, aunt.” You fake a smile, clearing your throat.

She subtly shakes her head, offended. “It's simply for…” flicking her eyes towards her husband, he nods his head. You can see the guilt in them. “...your engagement.” Collette gasps whilst James blinks in shock.

The rose in your hand snaps in half.

“What?” You ask, breath stuck in your throat.

With a click of Remus’ fingers, a staff rushes in, exchanging the snapped rose for a new one.

“The Viscount called for you last night. He expressed his love for you with a proposal to which we…gratefully accepted.”

She stomps her pointed heel on your heart with every word.

“Who?” You ask tearfully, and the painter clicks his tongue, commanding you to not move.

“Viscount Eugene Thompson.”

“I just met him!” You scream, hands gripping the sides of your seat. “You have no right!”

“Madame!” Remus yells back. Instructing the staff to sit you back down. With their gloved hands, they grip your shoulder with a remorseful face, forcefully sitting you back down.

The walls of the purple room seem to get smaller.

Collette shakes her head subtly. James sees this and he immediately gets that something has gone wrong and it's not just the surprise engagement. His ocean eyes tell you to ‘play along.’

Exhaling, letting a tear escape, you act like the duchess you were supposed to be like if not for the past.

“You should've asked me, dear aunt, I would've gotten to know him more.”

“That’s what marriage is for, dear niece. You marry and then you know them after. That's how it's supposed to be for us who are highborn.”

“It's for the best.” For the first time your uncle looks up from his drink to gaze at you. His fingers tremble as he talks. “You get to be a viscountess and we get to stay here at Hazelside. No one loses.”

I lose, you furiously thought. You now know why they want to marry you off to a stranger. It's for them to keep their titles and house while you rot in somebody else's. Someone who might treat you less, someone who could hurt you. Someone who isn't Hobie.

With a cruel laugh, you cackle in your seat. “I get it now.” Your uncle's face contorts into shame while your aunt clenches her teacup hard with an angry sneer.

Collette turns away from you, hiding behind her brother. She knows and so does John who stares out the window, but will they still choose to help you? Or will they choose their titles over your freedom?

“You should be grateful.” Victoria says above the sudden silence. “With how…used you are, you're lucky that a viscount even wants you.” She says with a scoff. “If you weren't as used then you could've been married off years ago to a duke, an earl or even the prince himself.”

“...Used?” You ask rhetorically, making her say it again, making her face you fully with her cruel words.

“You've been to a pirate ship, I have no idea what your role was but I do know that it's impossible that you weren't soiled in that ship.”

You are scorched by the sun.

You almost pounced on her but a staff member suddenly appeared next to you. Her eyes are warm, jade eyes telling you to hold fast, hands telling you to stay down. She takes your bleeding palms, the sting you just now noticed from the spiked stem of the rose. Carefully bandaging your hands, she wordlessly nods at you.

Lips slightly parted, you have an urge to ask who she is and why she's helping you calm down. But you don't let yourself falter, taking this stranger's advice. With a nod and a familiar knot on your hands, she walks away from you, head down in respect or because it's what she's used to.

You take matters in your own bleeding hands.

“Why don't I meet him again? The viscount, so I could get to know him before I marry him.” You lie through your teeth. If you can't talk down your own family or get Miguel for help, then you'd take your chances with the viscount. Maybe he'll think twice about the engagement once you tell him you don't want it, or him. “For tea, perhaps?”

Victoria turns to her children who cower under her glare. “John, why don't you take Collette and send a messenger for the viscount? I'm sure he'd appreciate it if the invitation was sent by your hand, the future duke of Hazelside.”

“But—” John starts but Collette stops him by grabbing his arm.

“Will do, mother.” As the twins leave, Collette gives you a look, green eyes determined. With a nod, you know she's on your side.

“And Collette, darling, straight to your chambers right after.” As if your aunt knows, she forbades them from going out. With a nod to a broad footman, he follows the twins out of the room.

You indistinctly mouth Miguel's name, hoping Collette gets the message before she disappears from view. You wish that they can at least sneak in a letter to Miguel.

If she can't get to Hobie in time, you'll have to do it yourself. For now, you need Miguel back to Hazelside first and foremost. He might not like Hobie but he seems to care for you and your well being, he'll get you and Hobie out, you just know it. He has the title, the power to help you. And the stature that strikes fear into your aunt and uncle. You just hope that Hobie's in the barn, you'd run to him the moment you get the chance.

With your bandaged hands, you grip the arms of your chair. The velvet is slashed under your nails, fluff spilling out.

Victoria stands up, crossing the threshold towards you. “After your meeting with the viscount, there's no escaping this, no matter how you act. I know you're not one of us but you have to try. Marriage is the best option for the both of us. For the family.” She holds onto the back of your chair as you continue to stare at Remus.

“You’re not my family,” you look up at her with your burning eyes. “Whatever you're planning, you'll regret it soon enough. You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

She exhales through her powdered nose. “Hollow threats, dear niece.”

“It won't be, I promise you that.” You abruptly grab her wrist, nails purposely digging in. “If you're part of the reason why they're dead—” she tries to take her hand back but you're stronger. “I'll bury you under my grandmother's apple trees. Then you'll truly be family.”

Unknowingly, you embrace the same fire he has.

Frederick comes to Victoria's side, quickly making you unhand his wife by roughly unclasping your fingers around her.

Your nails scrape and leave a mark on her soft skin, to which you grin at. She has the look of a woman who's terrified for her life. Her husband shares the same look, but with regret in his eyes.

They leave the room, arms embracing each other, murmuring hurried whispers in their traitorous ears.

“Keep that look.” Remus cuts the thick silence. “I like it better.” He smiles, continuing to paint your likeness.

You wait and bide your time, waiting for your so-called aunt and uncle to fully disappear from the halls outside. You count to thirty.

Five.

You listen for their retreating footfalls.

Twelve.

The sound of the brush against the paper is the only thing that you can hear while you ignore your quickening heartbeat.

Nineteen.

Anger rages in you, Hobie finds something in the duke’s office.

Twenty-five.

You thank the artist for his time, using an excuse of not feeling well. His protests fall on deaf ears as you close the door behind you.

Thirty.

You run to him.

—

You try not to make it obvious as you sprint, only slowing down when someone sees you. After you're away from their view, you continue to run towards the barn like a moth to a flame. The ache in your leg is fiery. A harsh throb in your bones, the pain reverberating through your body.

It makes you wince and groan, slightly limping, you finally make it to your chambers. Quickly throwing off the blasted shoes, you immediately kneel down next to your bed in search of your dagger that you've kept hidden under the mattress.

Feeling the cool steel, you grab it, with no time to lose, you hold it in your hand as you head towards the familiar tapestry. Heart pounding like war drums, blood rushing in your ears, sweat dripping off your brows, you feel the fury in your lungs. It buries inside you, shoveling, tunneling, until it reaches your heart. You fight a sob when your knees almost buckle from under you.

Holding on to the walls, you go further inside the hidden path, in search of his warmth. His name echoes in your head, ‘Hobie, Hobie, Hobie’ it says, and you grip tightly around his name like it's your life line, your guiding light as you finally make it to the rotten wooden door.

The sun hangs low in the sky, the cold grass hitting your bare feet makes you gasp but it's not enough to stop you. It'll take more than that to stop you in your tracks, to stop you from reaching him.

The residents of Hazelside are far and few during this time of day. The ones who are left spare you a curious glance but they let you be whilst you run and run, until you reach him, until you reach your reason to live. You'll run forever if you have to.

Ankles burning, palm throbbing from the steel in your hand, you push the barn door open without a thought.

The smell of manure and hay hits your nose, the familiar scratch of a gun being unholstered rings in your ears.

Your heart finally finds reprieve when you see him bathed in the orange rays. Hobie points his gun away, holsters it once he lays his eyes on you. His pulse quickened further the second he spots the deep worry in your eyes. And how you heave like your lungs are about to give out.

Hobie leaves Bernard‘s side, letting the saddle fall on the horse’s back with a soft thump. Fast strides get himself in front of you at a quick pace. Grasping your face, tear stained cheeks tells him of what he feared, what you feared.

“What happened?”

“T-they're going to marry me off.” You weakly say. Holding his arm, you burst at the seams. The fire in you still burns, but you've had enough of its heat.

Now that you stand in front of him, the firelight in you dims, adrenaline fading, letting you be your true self.

You can't lose him.

“I'm sorry,” your hold on him gets tighter with every plea. You can't say it, say that you've given up even though you were forced to. But to you it's all the same. Failure means death, failure means they've died without justice. But failure also means you get to live, to continue to live with him. You're torn between the family you know and love, and the family you never got the chance to love.

And he understands completely.

You now see the cost of revenge laying at your feet, and it's him— Hobie's head rolling on the floor right next to Gwen's, Miles', Pavitr’s, James' and Yuri's. He has seen the same look in your eyes before in the mirror, the reflection cracked and broken. He can't let it happen to you, won't let the hunger burn you until you can't recognize yourself anymore.

And he can't lose you.

“That's alright,” Hobie embraces you, arms shielding you from everyone. Your face hidden in his leather vest, the familiar material helps ease you from the adrenaline rush. “Let's go then, fuck ‘em.” He says against your head. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

“Thank you,” you look up at him with tearful and restless eyes. “Thank you. Let's go look for the others.”

“I found something, but you're right, we need to go. Let me saddle him then we can—”

The doors burst open with a loud bang. The sheer force unhinges the doors from the frame. The sound scares the animals inside, their terrified cries rising above your own.

Hobie hides you behind him as a dozen or so guards filter through the doorway, their heavy boots thumping louder than the horse’s frantic stomping. They all raise their bayonets at Hobie while he stands with his own gun raised.

The men in uniforms yell at Hobie to let the gun go, to let you go like he's holding you hostage. But it's all muffled noise to you both, everything happens in slow motion. Dust floats in the air like it hangs suspended. You no longer hear the cries of the barn animals as you're more focused on Hobie, and he's focused on your safety.

He's calm amidst the numerous guns aimed at his head. He's in his natural state, but your hand around his arm makes him aware, aware that the bullets would pass through him and into you if they shoot.

For the first time, his hand shakes around his gun.

Outnumbered, he clasps your hand behind him, squeezing once. You already know what he's about to do.

“Hobie, please.” You whisper as you look over his shoulder. “No more sacrifices.”

Your words wake him. The fishbone is stuck in his throat once again. Choking him, strangling him as realization hits him.

It's the end.

“I can't,” you see tears in the corner of his eyes. “I can't let them have you.” There's desperation and grief in his voice. He can't lose you.

“I’m so sorry.” Kissing his clothed shoulder, you whisper a goodbye. “I'm so fucking sorry.” You don't want to lose him, but fate has other plans.

“Unhand her!” Frederick appears like he actually cares for your wellbeing. “Fucking scoundrel! I knew you were up to something, dear niece. Glad I got my footman to follow you. I thought you were just gonna run away on a horse but I did not expect to see the red hydra under my own roof.”

Without a second thought, you stand in front of Hobie. Protecting him with your own body. “Let him go, uncle, and I'll marry Eugene.”

“You know I can't do that.” He points his finger at Hobie. “He has a bounty on his head, you see.” He beckons you over. “Come, Y/N, we're gonna need the money for your upcoming wedding.” When you don't obey, his eyes flashes with remorse that's quickly replaced by the need for survival.

“Let him go!” You scream like a knife twists in your gut. Hobie tries to hide you behind him but you fight him. “Please,” your voice falters with desperation. “Please, uncle. Let him go and I'll marry Eugene, I won't fight it anymore. Just let him go.” You're ashamed, but it's needed for him to live.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold the cards here.” Your heart falls in your stomach, it dissolves in acid. The duke cranes his neck to the officer near him. “Seize them, don't harm a hair on her but take the red hydra to the capital.”

“No!” You try to swipe with your dagger but it's fruitless as the uniformed men yank you away from Hobie. The steel clunks loudly on the ground as Hobie tries to hold onto you, the sleeves of your dress rips away as the men take you away.

His gun falls as one of the taller men punches him in the gut. Hobie spills crimson from his lips but he continues to fight the men. He kicks, scratches and bites. Getting a few hits in, he yells for you, calls your name with desperation.

Almost all of them hold Hobie down, but even with their numbers they still can't keep him still. Using all his strength, he fights back with sheer will alone. His elbow meets a face, nose crunching. His knee smacks someone on the groin, knees buckling. He draws blood with his nails, his mouth snapping at anyone who gets close. Someone made the mistake of getting too close, now the captor's ear is in his bloodied mouth.

Reaching for you as two men try to drag you away, your heels dig in as you try to reach for him too. Fingertips brushing along yours, eyes glued to your terrified face, he decides that his final words to you shouldn't be filled with agony, but with something that should help you survive, something to keep you alive once he can't be your reason anymore.

Because he's a knife born to cut and bleed, not to love. Or to be loved.

“It's not him!” Hobie screams as they continue to drag you away. “It's her! It's—!” A bag is put on his head, shutting him up with the rope tied around his neck. The men laugh menacingly as they cinch the rope tighter.

Hobie tries to resist, clawing at his captors, guttural screams let out from the same lips who called your name softly in his sleep.

“No!” You continue to thrash, nails digging into the arms of your captors. “Hobie!” Your voice cracks as you hear him start to choke.

“Oi!” The duke yells towards the guards. “Bring him to the king first! He needs to stand before him before you bloody execute him! What will he say if you bring the most wanted pirate in the country dead in front of the whole court, hm? You know how much he likes the theater of a trial!”

Air rushes in your lungs as they untie the rope. He coughs, spit darkening the bag. You yell for him again before a bag is placed on your head. Darkness invades your senses, and you're afraid of the unknown, afraid of what they're doing to him as they tow you away on the moist ground. Throat clumping up, hyperventilating, you try to desperately breathe. The guard's hold on you tightens and in turn, your throat tightens, shutting off your air. Heaving, ears ringing, your own breath fans on your face while you hastily try to take breaths in. Black dots dance around your vision until you fall unconscious.

This is the end.

—

You've been staring at the same spot for hours, blank stare, red eyes. Legs tucked, arms enveloping around it, your mind runs like an unhitched horse. Hobie's face is seared into your brain. You can see his wild eyes with every blink of your own. His screams echo in your ears like a death rattle, it might as well be if his fate is to be decided by the crown who hates every fiber of his being.

The soft bed doesn't provide comfort, the blankets don't shield you away from the stern stare of the guards guarding every single opening in your chambers. A behemoth of a man stands in front of the unicorn tapestry, his cutlass on his hip shines in the moonlight as well as your own dagger.

The once comforting eyes of the sea snake around the hilt now mocks you. You did this, you did this. You've killed him, your hubris killed him. You might as well follow him towards the end.

There's no more tears in your eyes left to be shed. Every muscle in your body aches from your wracking sobs. Your nails leave crescent shapes in your palms, tiny dots of crimson drips on the expensive silk bed sheet.

Yet, you want your mother.

The one who truly knows you, the one who saved you all those years ago. There's a part of you that wishes she didn't, that she left you alone in the arms of your doomed birth mother. But there's a bigger part of you who seeks Jessica's comfort. You seek her warmth from her embrace, like you once sought out your family. Family who turned their backs on you, family who locked you in your chambers like a princess in a fairytale. But this isn't a fairytale, it's real, and you can still hear his screams.

You would've given everything to meet your family back then, if only you could warn your younger self to come back to that small cabin in the woods, to beg Jessica to take you back. Even if it means you've never met him, even if it means you'll never feel his touch again as long as he's alive, knowing that he'll survive is enough. You now wonder if you didn't jump on that net that day, would everything still happen? Would Mathias still find the revenge? Would Finn and Ned still be dead if you just ran the other way?

It's too late to come back, it's too late to save them, to save him.

A bird passes by your window, and it's just now you realized it's dawn. The rose-pink sky upsets you further. Your brain concocts an image, an image where everybody lives. Where Finn and Ned drink on the revenge, where the trio plays cards on the rickety table. Where Hobie has his hands around your own as he guides them on the helm.

You haven't moved an inch from the bed, yet you stand in front of the mirror wearing a white dress.

With every pull of the ribbons behind the wedding gown you feel like they're gutting you like a fish ready for supper.

Silver threads weaved around the golden violets on your bust, the fabric is airy yet heavy and suffocating on your form. White gloves decorate your hands to hide the crescent shapes. There're heeled shoes underneath your feet to prevent you from running away, heavy perfume to hide the iron lingering on your skin. Make-up to hide your sorrows, jewelry to get people's attention away from the tears in your eyes. Top it off with a bow on your back and a golden tiara on your head— you're dressed properly for the slaughter.

And Hobie is too. If he had a mirror in the dimly lit prison they threw him in, he'd wonder who's looking back at him. He doesn't look like the captain he was supposed to be, doesn't *feel like the captain he was supposed to be. He's been beaten, his own ichor flowing out of his mouth and open wounds. Body shaking from the cold, he misses your fire.

He's not terrified of the blade that would kiss his neck, he's afraid to leave his family in this world. Afraid to leave you in this world.

He hates the fates for weaving him like this, to let everyone he has ever cared about die or be given a fate worse than death. Why did they shape him to be a knife that kills instead of something better? Something smoother around the edges, something that doesn't let everything he touches die?

Hobie whispers your name in the dark like you would materialize right next to him. The ground is wet under him, iron fills his nose, he wonders how many people lived and died in this cell. He feels the ghost of your touch on his hand, and he cracks at the seams.

Victoria appears next to you like a gust of wind. She fixes your mother's necklace on your neck, hands cold, nervous, terrified.

“You have a guest.” She says lowly, like she's already mourning.

For a moment hope blooms in your chest. Is it him? Did he escape to save you? Is he alive?

But if it was Hobie, Victoria wouldn't announce it. He would come to you like a dream, quick and quiet, touch soft and careful as he takes you away from your hell.

You have no fight left to scream at her, to claw at her painted face. She leaves before you could find the fight in you.

With gloved hands from the handmaidens, they guide you outside. Face blank and limbs limp, you let them.

They halt by twin doors, gold outlining the shape, birds carved on the dark wood. Eyes solemn, you only now notice the finely dressed man in front of you.

Eugene calls your name softly, like how someone would utter a person's name who's currently rotting six feet below the soft ground.

You are scorched by the sun. And you're ready to burn everything in your path.

“I'm so sorry about this—” Your knuckles hitting his cheek makes him stagger on his feet. He spits out blood, crimson coating the polished floors. “I deserved that.” He groans as he tries to straighten up with grace. With one look towards the staff, they all filter out of the hallway, leaving you alone with the object of your ire. “Listen, I didn't intend for this—”

“What did you intend then?” Your voice breaks from all the screaming and the sudden silence you sported after it. “Hm? Wed and bed me for what? Satisfaction? To breed me like a broodmare?”

“That—no! It's not like that!”

You wish you had your dagger to cut him right where he stood. Standing toe to toe with Eugene, he backs away from your heated glare. “What is it then? They're going to execute someone very close to me just because you wanted to marry someone you've only just met—”

“I fancy you and I had every intention to court you properly!” He sighs, and you notice the darkness under his eyes. “But this wasn't my intention. Getting someone in line for the gallows wasn't in my plan, or anyone's plan!”

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, he continues. “Listen, I gushed about you to my family.” There's no lie in his tone, but you still doubt him. Your punch leaves a mark on his posh face. “They encouraged me to call for you, knowing that I needed to marry or my title and estate would be in danger. When my godfather heard your name he did more than to encourage me. He's the one who orchestrated this…quick marriage. Not me.”

“Godfather?” You ask breathlessly.

“He's inside, I have no idea why he would do anything like this! I promise you, I had no hand in this. I was forced, if I had a choice I would have courted you then let you decide if you wanted to marry me or not.” He tentatively takes your hand, “I'd take care of you though, I promise.”

Frowning, you grip his hand in an iron grip. Eugene winces, eyes darting around for help. “You do have a choice, Eugene. You always have a choice.” Your voice shakes. “It's not too late, call off the wedding and we can forget this ever happened—”

“I can't. Your family already paid the dowry, and we already paid our dues.” He says through the pain, voice faltering. You still won't let go. “My godfather did all the work, it's all set in stone. The priest is already waiting at the altar, your family and mine are already there. I'm sorry, Y/N, if the circumstances were different—”

“No,” you shake your head, eyes boring holes in his skull. Nails digging in, refusing to let go. “There's a part of you who wanted this, you're a man and a viscount, you had a choice. Yet you let it all happen.” Eugene frowns deeply, trying to get his hand back from your grip, head turned away in shame. “You were not forced, you're just as bad as your godfather, whoever he is, I'd like to face the fucking asshole.”

Pushing him away and away from the door, he sighs in relief, clutching his hand. You shoulder the heavy doors. Revealing a room that's finely decorated for the reception.

A sparkling chandelier hangs above, your ancestors’ portraits watch on from the walls. White lilies decorate the expansive room, violets are laid on every table. The fine table setting would've taken your breath away if not for the man sitting at the head of the table.

“Hello, little birdy.”

It's the end.

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Two

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - slight angst, some Eris fluff, Rhys changing his aggy tune, Az being intrigued.

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

"Your note said that you found a woman here?" Rhys asked as he stepped through the threshold of Fir Manor, his violet eyes prickling with intrigue as he glanced about the heirs personal home.

It was different to how they had expected it to be.

Artwork by various talents hung on the walls which were covered in a dark red, almost brown, wallpaper. Furniture was arranged neatly, a fire crackled against the wall, and an array of books lay splayed open on differing pages, none knowing which would be picked up and resumed next.

Rhys and Azriel found themselves surrounded by warmth, it radiated through the home, harmonised by the sound of angelic humming that the flames appeared to sway to.

The three males sat at the seating area before the fire, Eris on one of the plush armchairs easily big enough for two, the arm of it was slightly dented from where he constantly propped his feet atop it, usually when he was reading or being tormented by his hounds.

"I did. I sent her to bathe, and the healer left just before you both arrived," he watched them warily as they looked around the room.

Eris could hardly blame them for their intrigue, he had never welcomed anyone into Fir Manor, it was meant to be his refuge away from life. A personal haven of sorts. But he knew there was no other place he could take you where you'd be safe.

The air was tight with tension, Eris' relationship with the two males in the room with him had improved greatly as time had progressed and they saw him as more than just Beron's heir, but, it was still difficult at times.

Azriel didn't trust him at all. He knew why they had to support Eris, Beron was a cruel thing, an accumulation of all things foul in Prythian. With what had happened to Mor, Azriel didn't care for any cry that came from Autumn, only responding when Rhys commanded it.

"I call her Flora. It feels wrong for her to not have a name," the angelic hum continued to flow from a slightly ajar door upstairs, a wordless melody that had stuck to your lips and begged to be sang, even softly.

"She truly has no idea how she got here?" Azriel didn't look to the heir as he asked, his hazel eyes trained on the staircase to his right where the sweet song drifted, making his shadows dance around his forearms in ethereal delight.

"None. Though, I was hoping we could confirm that with your ability, Rhysand." It wasn't a question, more of a certainty, it was imperative that they knew the truth about you, if there was truly nothing in your mind.

Rhys hummed, his feet mindlessly tapping along to the melody that seemed to grow closer and increase in volume, "Only if she agrees. I'm not here to force her to do anything she doesn't wish to."

"Good," Eris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, "I wouldn't let you if you even tried."

"Why?" Azriel tore his gaze away from the stairs, needing to know why Eris wouldn't let them do what was necessary to decipher your intentions.

Eris' amber orbs glowed in the firelight, dangerous and unyielding, "You'll see."

As if on cue, you appeared at the bottom of the stairs, your hair and skin now free from dirt and dried blood, the cuts on your neck healed and vanished, and a healthy rosed pink tinge to your cheeks. Azriel saw you faintly, the ocean blue pools with currents of molten gold running through them shining through the shadows, and damp pearlescent blonde hair that easily reached the bottom of your spine.

"Hello," you spoke, your voice was so gentle, so innocent as you examined the two new males in the manor. Both winged things, dark hair, black swirling tattoos across their shoulders, chests, and arms. A blue light pulsated, it thrummed with power, much like your own did.

As if sensing your fear, Eris rose to his feet, "It's alright," he coaxed into the shadows, the fire cascading its glow over his figure. Eris looked different, you knew he was muscular but you didn't realise just how sculpted he was as he stood there ridded of his jacket and stood only in his brown briefs and open collared cream shirt. "They're friends. I asked them to come and help."

That being all the security you needed, you stepped out from the shadow, allowing the warmth of the firelight to wrap around you whilst you fiddled with your fingernails.

All of their eyes went wide as they took you in, then the sets belonging to Eris' companions flew to him, the look on his own face confirming that he didn't already know of the thing that had concerned them.

You stood before them, a sheer deep red dress pooling at your feet, they could make out the peaks of your nipples, not like they were searching for them. They were too focused on a much more pressing matter.

Azriel couldn't blame Eris for not noticing, it's not like the heir had watched you undress with his own eyes. But as you stood before them, Azriel truly didn't know what to do next, and that had never been a problem he'd faced before. Your skin was covered in marks, tiny little archaic sketches that started at your shoulders and ended at your feet, no patch of skin was left bare apart from your face and the palms of your hands.

None of them had ever seen anything like it.

They weren't a million of miniscule interlinked tattoos, they were scars, thousands of them stacked upon one another, all healed over to mere bumps of flesh.

"I'm Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, and Azriel is my spymaster," Eris and Azriel were thankful that Rhys was the first to break the heavy silence, neither of them knew what to say, "I have a power that allows me to look into minds. I was wondering if you'd allow me into yours, that we may somehow figure out where you came from?"

You looked to Eris, the one that you trusted the most in the room, "It won't hurt, will it?"

Azriel watched your lips move as you spoke, he allowed his gaze to travel down your frame, around the curves of your hips, until he found the marred rings of flesh around your wrists. It was a stare that you caught, and he felt that familiar pang of sadness when you hid them behind your back.

"No," Eris told you, he was sure, he was certain, "Rhys has done it to me many times before. It's just to give us some clarity, that's all. Then we can figure out how to best help you," you took his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you to the armchair where he once sat, the warmth of his body heat cushioning your nerves.

Duke nestled himself at your feet, dragging his head so that is rested on top of your bare toes. The room shifted, and you found Rhys kneeling in front of you, vibrant violet burrowing into your face, he was tight lipped and raised a slow hand to grasp the back of your neck, the sensation of his touch made you gasp.

Then the violet glazed over, you felt the claws asking for permission at the forefront of your consciousness and you let them in without a fight. It was odd, to have someone scouring through your brain, to feel them slip in and out of every crevasse and chamber.

Azriel watched you with a fierce intensity, your gaze hadn't left Rhys' face for even a moment, though your eyebrows did occasionally twitch close together in discomfort. Then blood, fresh, bright red blood began to seep from your nose, a sign that Rhys was pushing too deeply in the wrong direction.

"Rhys," Azriel called over, Eris had perched on the arm of the chair, his hands curled around your shoulders gently. His High Lord froze, as if awaiting the rest of the call, "You're hurting her."

Immediately, Rhys' talons retracted from your mind and his eyes returned to their vibrant hue, "Fascinating," he mumbled to no one in particular as his thumb reached to wipe away the single thread of blood that had escaped your nose, "There was nothing in there," he turned to Azriel and told him, more freaked out than threatened, then he turned back to you, "You have a shield in your mind, protecting a certain chamber of it. It was like an ocean reflecting the night sky, rippling with motion and littered with stars. It did not want to let me in."

Azriel could picture it. A canvas rippling with life that embodied the calmness that only the Summer waters possessed, flecked with bright stars in a kaleidoscope of hues. He imagined it was a peaceful shield to come into contact with, perhaps even the most peaceful shield Rhys had ever seen.

A defeated look took over your face, those doe eyes creasing downward as you turned into Eris.

"We'll help you, Flora." Eris told you, forcing you to look into him, to see that he wasn't lying.

"Flora?"

Eris winced, nervously scratching the back of his neck, "Yes. You don't have a name and I didn't want to call you nothing," he rambled in a way you found rather sweet, "Flora suits you, but obviously you can choose whatever name you'd like-"

Your hand moving to his thigh was enough to stop more words from tumbling from his mouth, "Flora," you repeated the name, humming in agreement, "I like it."

Rhys stood from his place in front of you, and you realised then just how big he was as the shadows of his wings cast down on you. There was a fondness laced in his expression, "We'll do all that we can to help you. In the meantime, we should discuss living arrangements?"

"Living arrangements?" The question seemed silly to Rhys, but of course, you had no idea of the danger you were in whilst in the Autumn Court. You knew nothing of its High Lord and the brimming hatred he held toward anyone and anything.

Doe eyed and beautiful or not, Beron would hurt you if he found you in his lands.

"She's staying with me, Rhys," Eris told him curtly, making a point that it was not up for discussion.

Eris was by no means holding a claim over you, he just wished for you to be as comfortable as possible, and given the melodic humming floating through his home a short while ago, he was confident in thinking that Fir Manor was the best place to house you.

You sat still as the pair stared intently at one another whilst Azriel kept his gaze on you. Tilting your head to the side, like Eris had done when he found you, you smiled, the act growing on your lips as his shadows slithered across the floor and curled around your ankles and hiked up your calves. They were in awe of you. Complete and total adoration.

Once they had returned to him, they only whispered of your beauty and kind soul, of their need to hear your song once more.

"You will keep in touch then," Rhys bit, clearly not happy at the arrangements made between himself and Eris, "And if Flora ever needs another place to go, you will write to me and either myself or Azriel will come."

You and Eris sat on opposite ends of the sofa, twin blankets draped over your legs with a bundle of Eris' hounds in the space between all laying in different directions and positions.

Eris' head kept on lifting toward you, the poor book in his hands getting little to no attention as he examined your face. Your hair had been dried by the fire, it held a shine to it that he'd never seen before, strands kept on falling over your cheeks, and you continued to push them behind your ears with a slight frown, doing your best to concentrate on your own book that Eris had given to you.

The silence was comfortable, crickets creaked from beyond the window and the fireflies drifted around the edges of the estate. A gentle breeze wafted through your hair, filling the room with your scent, and Eris didn't mind it one bit.

"You're staring," you noted aloud before meeting his eye, "Is something on my face?"

The innocence of you made him smile, a genuine one, one of pure wonderment and curiosity, "No," he mused, "I'm just trying to figure you out."

Amusement huffed through you, "Let me know what you find?"

"Always," you mirrored his smile, your eyes sparkling in the golden orange hue from the dimly lit fire as the day caught up with you, a yawn pulling at your mouth and limbs, causing you to stretch and emit some sleep deprived whines, "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Let me take you to your room," Eris stood quickly, ignoring the grumbles of his hounds at the shifting of weight which had interrupted their naps. Eris was sincere, cradling your hand into the indent of his elbow as he led you from the room.

Fir Manor was a spectacle you had to see to truly experience it. Warmth trickled through every part of the home, rich red brown walls, oak tables and furnishings, plush beds and bay windows, a library so full that books lay stacked in piles around the room. Various artworks were carefully placed about the halls and bedrooms, some more grand than others, but each told its own story, and you felt yourself delving into each one that Eris led you past.

Light chatter had enveloped you and you had learned that Eris was the eldest son of the Autumn High Lord, that he was next to ascend to the title, and that Fir Manor was his and his alone.

"Does it ever get lonely? Having all of this incredible space but no one to share it with?"

Eris contemplated your question, and you wanted to retract it entirely when you saw that glimmer of tainted hope in him, "I hope that one day I will have someone to share this all with. All of this grandeur and power means nothing if you're alone." Eris paused before asking, "Do you want a family?"

You slowed to a stop before a pair of large oak doors, kissed with intricate carvings and swirls; you faced Eris, letting his whisky amber stare pour into you, "I think I would like one, yes. Maybe one day."

A breath lodged itself in his throat, he surveyed you, truly surveyed you, he noticed the faint freckles pecking your nose, how long your eyelashes were as they fluttered at him, he etched the peak of your cupid's bow to his memory.

"This will be yours for however long you wish to stay," he opened the door to the room and you stepped inside with mouth agape and words failing to rise from your heart.

The room was magnificent.

A large four-poster bed pleaded for your attention, adorned with a textured orange comforter and white pillows, thin white curtains danced in the gentle breeze from the open window, and candles lit the room in a dull light. Beneath your feet lay a fluffy brown rug, a small seating area rested to the left of the room, an oak coffee table with a matching dresser and dressing table. To the right of the room, peering out at you from the open door lay the most opulent bathroom you had ever seen, a tub deep enough to fit all of Eris' hounds sat before a floor to ceiling window that gave the owner a spectacular view of the gardens and forest beyond the estate. Everything gleamed in the soft light, every ripple of gold in the white marble glittering against the ceiling.

"What if I never wish to leave?" Eris stood just in the threshold of the room, not wanting to impose on your privacy despite the fact that he owned the place.

"I'd be okay with that," he watched you turn in your place, he watched you twirl with your arms outstretched, peaceful joy clear on your relaxed face, "My room is at the end of the hall, on the right, if you need anything."

"Thank you, Eris. You didn't have to do all of this," you were genuine, perhaps the most genuine creature he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. "I'm very glad that it was you who found me today."

Eris was already closing the door to the room when you had spoke, he turned his head, smirking at you over his shoulder, "So am I, Little Flower."

That night, Eris lay awake staring at his cream ceiling, a hand on his chest rubbing gentle circles into the skin over his rapidly thundering heart. Eris lay there, lay there clueless to the beings who were pounding against the windows of Prythian, around his home, desperate to break through and take back what was theirs.

Authors Note

Luckily, part two was already started in my drafts and I've been in a great mood today so decided to finish it. I'm thinking about posting once or twice a week for this series, fully just depends on what else I add to my fanfic list.

I love a fluffy Eris too much btw 🥹

Series Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck2

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thelov3lybookworm · 3 months

Text

Remember me? (Part 15)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

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Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: basically filler, fully feyfey's pov, we'll get revelations in the next chapter 🫶🏻

enjoy!

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Feyre's pov.

The relief that spread through Feyre was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was her chest constricting, making it hard to breath, but it was also the first full breath she had taken in the past hour.

And that beast...

Tamlin.

Feyre did not know whether to cry in fright, weep in joy or hide in shame.

The male she had destroyed for no reason other than her mate's wishes had brought her child, her light in dark and a part of her soul, back to her, and also probably saved him from some sort of danger.

She did not know whether to beg for his forgiveness or thank him for his mercy.

And when his beast-like eyes met hers, everything stilled around Feyre.

Only for her though. She stopped hearing anything, only a high pitched ringing in her ears. Everything around her seemed to move, the room spinning.

The huge and airy space did nothing to alleviate her light headedness.

Feyre watched as Tamlin crouched low so Nyx could get off, as if in slow motion. Nyx grabbed fistfuls of Tamlin's fur, scrambling to get off, the smile on his face never faltering.

Feyre did not realise that she had stopped breathing, that tears were flowing down her face anew until her lungs screamed for air and she had no choice but to oblige.

She drew in a sharp gasp, the feeling a little painful as she watched Nyx waddle over to her. Feyre knew that the only reason Nyx was walking towards her was because Cassian and the other two were holding themselves back from picking him up.

Feyre fell to her knees, holding out her shaking hands, and Nyx's brows furrowed, his smile dropping.

"Mama? Why are you crying?"

Feyre shook her head, pulling him into her chest. "I'm not crying. My eyes are just sweating because there is dirt in them."

Feyre glanced around, realising everyone was staring at the two. Y/n and Mor were crying, while the rest of the males looked on, their faces grim.

With a start, she realised Tamlin had turned to his fae form.

He looked healthy. Healthier than he had been before.

That was all she could focus on, her mind refusing to let go of her fear and making it hard to think properly.

Nyx pushed away from her, smiling again. "You know momma, I made a new friend." He turned halfway to point at Tamlin, who looked on, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Is that so darling? That's very nice. But how did you meet him?"

Nyx opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, his brows furrowing. Dread started pooling in Feyre's stomach.

"I don't remember..." He trailed off.

"It's okay baby. We'll figure it out later." Feyre pushed his hair back from his face, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Nyx? Are you still awake?" The sound of Fin's voice drew everyone's attention, and Feyre watched the three members of the inner circle closely.

Confusion scrunched their faces before recognition set in. Even Azriel, who was usually collected and calm, could not hide the shock at seeing another child that resembled so much of his brother.

Their wide eyed gazes swung to Y/n, who walked up to Fin and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, a determined expression on his face, before he walked over to Nyx, tugging him away. The maid that had been assigned to Fin followed the boys closely back to their rooms.

Feyre rose a questioning brow at Y/n, who simply extended a hand to help Feyre climb back to her feet. Y/n glanced around once, then whispered to Feyre. "Go with the kids. After the meeting is done, I'll bring them to Fin's room to talk." She inclined her head towards the confused Inner circle members.

Feyre nodded.

And, with a last glance at Tamlin, followed after the kids.

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General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @tele86

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit @thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar

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offthepages · 8 hours

Text

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 5

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: Now in the Spring Court, you arrive at the ball. Fancy dinners, and suitors, await…but where was Azriel?

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma. (Brief)

Ageless and Minors DNI

part one, part two, part three, part four.

Masterlist

Requests are open!!

a/n: Before starting!! I based a lot of the balls and stuff off of Bridgerton/ Regency era stuff because, well - that's a lot of what I know! Plus, Prythian seems to be old-fashioned still in that kinda way. Also! You're referred to a 'lean' once. That's most because of how SJM describes the Fae having longer limbs and such. I didn't know a better way to word it.

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Stepping Foot into the Spring Court was like seeing a real life fairy tale. Lush green grass, stretched for miles. Tree and flowers in full bloom, like they never withered in the first place. Flowers that would have made Elain jealous, blooming along. The air was warm, but a gentle breeze helped keep you cool. It was perfect.

And flying with Arizel was even more perfect. His strong, sturdy arms kept you close. You could feel his strong, powerful wings with every flap. His back tightening and loosening like a well oiled machine. You were jealous of his ability to fly. Especially in lands like these. "Hold on, y/n." His voice was gentle, it was a request. If you didn't hold on, you suspected it make him hold onto you tighter. But you obliged. Wrapping your arms around his neck as you began your descent. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle when Azriel got hit in the face by a petal. The small flower clung to his nose, and you quickly helped him out.

"The flowers like you, Azzy." You tease as he lands gracefully on the ground. He was still holding you as he took a couple steps forward to help ease the impact. Azriel rolled his eyes, but you saw the ghost of a smile. You watched the others land as well, Rhys and Feyre doing so with grace. Cassian and Nesta... a loud thunderous sneeze made their descent less graceful. Cassian tucked Nesta into his wings as they rolled onto the ground. "We're okay!" Cassian said quickly getting up, then helping Nesta with ease. Your oldest sister looked at him with a heavy sigh. "Take the medicine Madja gave you right now." She commands. Cassian pouts as he pulls it out and takes a swig.

Azriel, much to your dismay, gently sets you down. But stays close, his hands hovering over your arms in case you fell. But you give a small reassuring smile to him before you look over to Rhysand. "What now?" Rhys is about to answer when you hear footsteps. Looking over, you spot none other than Tamlin. His smile is gentle, and he looks at Rhys and Feyre with a longing you understood far too well. Rhys pulls Feyre closer as he nods at Tamlin. "You look well, so does your Court." Rhys says cordially. You feel a cooling sensation at your feet, Azriel's shadows. Ready to push you away out of danger at a moment's notice. Reaching behind you, you take his hand to give a squeeze. The small action seems to ease Azriel.

Tamlin nods at Rhys. "It was hard, but now it is flourishing." He says evenly, "I took...advice from your Court." Rhysand seems to be shocked, but not angry at that. He smiles as he nods at the other High Lord.

"I'm glad to be able to see it." Rhys says. His hand still holding Feyre's tightly, trying to keep her calm in the face of her ex. But your sister remains strong, unbothered. Tamlin's attention turns to her, and he gives a small smile. "Feyre. You look well."

"As do you, Tamlin." She says coolly. Tamlin smiles and then clears his throat. "I met your son. Amern and Mor are here - waiting for you, where the Summer Court will be staying. He looks just like Rhys, I'm sorry." And you realize that the High Lord of Spring is trying to joke. It seems to catch everyone off guard, making you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

Rhys chuckles first, "Glad to see you've got your humor back, Tamlin." He says with a smile. Relief washes over Tamlin's face as Rhysand speaks. Then he lets his stunningly emerald eyes land on you. Rhysand had told you, before coming here, not to bow to anyone. You shouldn't be lesser than anyone. Bowing wasn't needed when the High Lord and Lady were your brother-in-law and sister. So you kept your head held high. And swore you could feel Azriel's pride swelling behind you. The hand that still held his received a gentle squeeze.

"And this must be Y/n Archeron." Tamlin greets, putting a hand to his chest and bowing his head. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He steps forward, and you feel the shadows coil tighter around your ankles, offering his hand. You gingerly place your hand in his as he lifts it and presses a kiss to it. Watching you the whole time. And you can't help but let your cheeks flush.

Until Feyre claws at your mind, showing you images of his temper. You shoot her a glare. "I suppose you lot must be tired after flying here. I'll allow Varian to come get you and escort you back." His eyes land on yours again, giving you a coy smile. "I shall like a dance later at the ball, Y/n Archeron."

Your cheeks heat again at the formality of it all. But you give your head a quick nod. "I shall save room on my dance card for you." You almost swore you could feel Azriel stiffen behind you. The shadows around your ankles growing colder.

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Varian arrived shortly after Tamlin left, and brought you back to the nice little manor you'd all be staying in. Little, might have been the wrong word. The floors were oak through each room. The walls were a rich cream color, but didn't lack life. They have paintings of flowers, animals, a waterfall that looked like starlight... The whole bottom floor consisted of an open floor plan, the kitchen tucked away in the back of the house, beautiful marble countertops and dark oak cabinets to match the floors. The couch was a deep green, with an ornate rug underneath it. A few armchairs supplied as well. A long dinner table with enough seating for your party.

The bedrooms were no less ornate as the rest of the house. The master bedroom was located upstairs, all the way back at then end of the hall. Feyre and Rhys had called dips. Then the room next to theirs was claimed by Cassian and Nesta. Amren and Varian got the one across from them. Mor and you would be sharing a room, the one next to Nesta and Cassian. Azriel was across the hall. And as soon as that had been settled, you ran up to your room to get ready. Throwing your bags up on the bed and hastily throwing them open, so your dress for the evening could unwrinkle.

The first evening was about alliance's more than romance. At least, that is how you looked at it. You'd show off what court you were from, maybe have a few dances, and then call it a night. But it didn't matter to you, you were going to a freaking ball! The childlike joy in you had yet to dim in your heart. The dress you chose had a high neckline, akin to a halter top. It covered your cleavage while still hugging them to show them off in a modest way, as Nesta put it. The back remained open. And golden accents lined the edges. From your waist came long layers of tulle decorated with stars, and when you spun it flared slightly. You'd look breathtaking on the dance floor tonight, you just knew it. Your heels were golden to match the accents in the dress as well, Mor had also lent you some jewelry for the evening.

Everything was coming together just perfectly. You had sat and down and started to brush out your hair when a knock sounded. "Come in!" Nesta and Feyre entered. Both of them smiling at you as they accessed what you had laid out. Feyre took the brush from you, gently pulling it through your hair. "You should be careful with Tamlin." The first words out of her mouth made you roll your eyes.

"Feyre, I'm not going to fall madly in love with Tamlin because he was kind. I will be cordial and polite by allowing him a dance and then release him to the public." You assure her, locking eyes with her in the mirror. "I will never forgive that bastard for what he did to you. But I can, make it hard for him to refuse any alliance Rhysand speaks of tonight." Nesta's mouth curls up into a smile as she brings out a box. "You cunning little thing." She says proudly, setting down the makeup she had packed as she starts to help. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Was that your plan all along?" Feyre asks, grimacing when she catches a snarl in your hair. Not that you minded. Where your sisters kept their hair braided and in updo's most of the time. You usually opted for a more natural style. And that, meant your hair got more windswept than normal when flying. But you nod at Feyre. "Of course. Don't get me wrong, if Tarquin offers me a dance, it might be for a little more than just an alliance. But Nesta once told me the ways of balls and polite society. So I will follow it. I'm still looking for love, but again. I'd settle for a boyfriend by the end." You shrug playfully, missing the look your sisters give each other.

"You were little when I told you that." Nesta says wistfully. "It made me miss it. But, I'm glad that those lessons stuck with you at least." She doesn't give you a chance to respond as she starts to lather your face with creams, and other makeup.

By the end. You looked stunning. Your hair had been curled, Nesta braided a crown at the back of your head to keep your hair out of your face but left a few pieces framing it. The dress fit like a glove, and the added height from the heels made your already lean body look even better. Your makeup was stunning. Nesta had dusted a mixture of bronze and gold over your eyelids, and Feyre took a golden face paint-dotting it along your cheeks to help accentuate the freckles you already had. Your lips were a beautiful glossy rose pink.

Your sisters had left you to dress long ago. But you kept staring at yourself in the mirror. Unable to look away, you felt like a princess. There was no way that you wouldn't find a partner tonight.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Meanwhile. "Azriel. Stop spying on her." Cassian chides as he buttons up his shirt. "She's going to be fine. Nesta and Feyre are in there." Azriel glares at him, he had still barely gotten dressed. Shirtless and in nothing but black slacks. His shadows swirling around him, whispering into his ear, 'She looks like a dream.' 'Our mate is beautiful.' 'She'll be able too reach up to our shoulder for sure tonight.' And it was hard to foucus when all they could focus on was you. "Says the one who gets to be with his mate tonight." He grumbles as he grabs his shirt and slips it on. Rhys sighs heavily as he looks at Azriel with a gentle, yet exhausted expression. "Azriel. She's far too excited about this for you to-"

"I won't ruin it." He sighs, buttoning his shirt, but leaving the first one undone. He never liked having that one done. It had felt like he was choking. So that one stayed unbuttoned. He helped Rhys slip on his rather ornate jacket. Black and Gold- to make you. They all had planned it so they'd be able to spot each other easily in the crowds. "She's excited, and I won't take that away from her." Azriel didn't voice his full thought. About how he wished he could have swept you off your feet, heard your vibrant laugh sound through out the ball. Dip you and watch your eyes widen, kiss you under the moonlight... all of it. "If it is any consolation." Rhys's voice snaps Azriel out of his trance. "Feyre just informed me that she has no plans on wooing Tamlin. She knows we want an alliance with him." He chuckles as he buttons his coat. Turning and grabbing Azriel's coat to help him next. That does make him smile, "I knew it. She held my hand behind her back as he spoke. She didn't like him." He confesses.

"Aww! How romantic! She held your hand!" Cassian teases, earning a smack from Azriel. He chuckles, "But that's good, it will help us keep the peace. It's already so delicate."

"She's a smart woman." Rhys pats Az's shoulder to signal he was good. Azriel buttons the suit jacket and nods. "Then again so are all of the Archeron's but-" Rhys shrugs.

"You can say that again." Cassian rolls his eyes and sits with a slight huff. "I'm gonna be on that dance floor all night batting men away with a stick while Nesta dances. And she knows it too!" Rhys and Azriel share a look, before the both mockingly 'aww' at him as he did to Azriel moments earlier.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Everyone had made thier way downstairs to the main entrance. The stairs had a view that went straight up to the landing, making for one grand entrance. And, that was all that was left for you to do. Round the corner and face your family. For whatever reason it made you nervous. Mor had assured you that you looked stunning. Nesta had made you do affirmations in the mirror. Feyre assured you that they were all excited to attend. But anxiety still gnawed at you. "Y/n! You're gonna make us late!" Rhys's voice boomed through the house. With a deep breath, you rounded the corner. Your family looking up at you. Your sisters, all of them- Nesta, Feyre, Mor and Amren looked at you with smiles of varying sizes. Your brother in laws smiled as well, but Cassian let out a low whistle.

"Forget beating boys away from Nesta. We're gonna have to beat them away from you." He compliments, earing a smack on the chest from Nesta. But it was worth it in his opinion when he watched the tension release from your shoulders.

Your eyes found Azriel's. And it was like time slowed, watching as he walked up the steps toward you. He looked beyond handsome in his suit. You couldn't recall the last time you saw him dressed so formally, you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat. You prayed to the Mother to give you strength- if this was how you were reacting to Azriel in a suit? And for a moment, as you gazed at Azriel walking toward you; you hoped that he could kiss you. The thought shocked you, it was probably just the excitement from all of it. But instead, he offered his hand. "You look stunning." He says softly, as if it was only the two of you in the room. "Allow me to escort you to the ball." You didn't hesitate to nod, placing your hand in his. Letting him help you down the steps in your heels. Now you just had to be cunning enough to get a dance with him... ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ball was, unbelievably beautiful. The marble floors blended seamlessly into the marble walls with accents of gold. Garland of ivy, flowers and other various flora. Chandeliers with faelighting looked as if the celling was crying the most sparkling diamonds. People were dressed so ornately in various colors, like a intermingled rainbow. You squeezed Azriel's arm in awe. He looked down at you, his face remained neutral especially in front of so many people. But you knew that he was silently asking if you were alright. You give him a slight nod. "It's beautiful." You whispers to him, he flexes his arm and you can see his jaw tighten a little as if he was holding back something to say.

And soon, the music had started. The Courts were introduced, Nyx was fawned over by all the other high ladies. You were standing near the refreshment table as you watched Nesta on the dance floor. Moving with Cassian in a fluid, graceful dance. She commanded the dance floor, everyone's eyes were on her. You smiled, knowing the smile that your sister was wearing was a genuine one. But you didn't have much time to focus on her as Tamlin's large build came into your view. Smiling up at him, he reached his hand out. You felt the shadows curl around your ankles again. "Tamlin." You nod at him. "Y/n, would you care to join your sister on the dance floor?" He smiled at you with ease. You set your glass down and took his hand. "I'd love too." And with that, he led you out to the dance floor. His hand on your waist, other one holding your hand up high. And you began to move gracefully around the dance floor. You took note of how the shadows hid in the tulle of your dress. You'd be yelling at Azriel for that later. Tamlin was gentle, but he was definitely leading the dance. Pushing and pulling you around, but he remained polite. "Tell me, y/n. You don't have a mate?" He raises an eyebrow at you. You give him a shrug. He looks amused by your answer waiting for you to elaborate.

"I don't know, truthfully." You said as he spun you, pulling you back in. "I haven't felt the bond with anyone. But that isn't to say that it can't be there."

Tamlin considered your words before he nodded at you. "Do you know what it feels like? Has anyone told you what it is like?" You shook your head. The shadows angrily fluttered around your dress. You made Tamlin spin you again so that you could cover up for them.

"It's been...vague. My sisters don't know how to explain it. They just say I'll know when it happens. That it snaps and they are suddenly your whole word. They say it's as if, the bond is like a string. And at first it's invisible. Until one day it begins to glow golden and the rest is history." You explain what they had told you, the music comes to an end and you take a subtle back from Tamlin. "Join me, for dinner tomorrow." He says quickly. Your eyes widen and you look at him as your mouth tries to form the word no. But you simply just nod. And Tamlin leaves your side, your eyes scan the crowd in a panic. Finding Azriel with Cassian and Rhys in the corner you rushed over, the three of them looking at you with worry. Azriel stepped forward first, taking your hand gently as he pulled you into his side. "Y/n, did something happen?" Rhys asks, his brow furrowed as he watches you. You swallow thickly. "Tamlin asked me to dinner." The others look at each other as if there was a silent conversation happening.

"Okay...and what did you say?" Cassian asks slowly. Azriel wrapped his wing around you, keeping you pressed closely to his chest. You gripped the lapel of his suit jacket. Biting your lip so hard you were worried you'd draw blood.

"...I-I wanted to say no. But, but it was like my body froze up and I just...I nodded!" You rushed out, looking up at Azriel. He tensed, his arm around your waist pressed you closer. But as he looked down at you, he could see the apology brewing in your eyes. So he looked back to Rhys. Rhys hummed and then nodded. "Alright, we can work around this. You'll have a chaperone tomorrow." He says smoothly, giving you a gentle smile. Helping ease you, he looks at Cassian. "Get Nesta. She'll make sure that nothing happens. If he asks, we tell him its a human custom that you insist on abiding by."

Cassian nods, looking back at you and patting your head. "We've got your back, kid. Don't worry." You relax further into Azriel, resting your head on his shoulder as you finally take a deep breath.

"I wanna be there," Azriel speaks up, looking at Rhys. "In the shadows. Incase he tries faebane or anything else again." His voice is tight, pleading almost as he looks at his brother. You gives him a little squeeze. Looking back at Rhys.

"I would feel better about...if Az was there." You speak up. Rhys looks at you and sighs. "Fine. In the shadows. You don't act unless I give orders. Understood?" Rhysand commands, Azriel nods.

You breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't." Azriel says softly, running a hand down your arm. "We shouldn't have left you out there alone. Just seems Tamlin has a type." Rhys snorts at Azriel's comment.

"Why don't you two go dance?" Rhys motions to the dance floor. "The nights young."

Azriel looks down at you, only to be met with your eyes already on his. You nod quickly, as if you knew the question that was on the tip of his tongue. He smiled, letting his wings curl back in and stepping away from you. Bowing in front of you as he offers his hand, reveling in the joyous giggle that sounds from your mouth. Your delicate hand takes hold of his as he leads you to the dance floor.

The same way that Nesta commanded the floor, this time you two did. You felt the eyes of the crowd on you, but none of it mattered. Azriel's hand laid on your waist, your's laid on his shoulder. Hands clasped in a classic waltz. The music guided you two along, no one led the dance. There was a push and pull of equal measure from each of you, moving about the floor as if this was your ballroom. And as the music hit the last swell before it ended, Azriel spun you only to pull you back into a dip. Watching as the lights danced in your eyes, glittered along the fabric of your dress. You looked like a goddess. And Azriel thanked the Mother for giving him such a beautiful mate.

It was safe to say, that for the rest of the night. You were tucked into his side. Safe, and sound. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: Hehe, this was so much fun to write!! I hope yall liked it!

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#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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fantasyandshit · 11 days

Text

Something is wrong

type: Oneshot

Pairing:Azriel x reader

Masterlist

"where are you going?"

"Oh, Az!" Yn turns as her wings unfurl- "Im headed to Windhaven to check on things up there for Rhys- When did you get back? I thought you were still in Day?" "I-I returned last night. I'm sorry, you said your going to WindHaven?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Rhysand asked me to? What's the issue with that?"

The shadowsinger notes the females face contorting into one of confusion, "Well it's just- Myself, Cassian, or Rhys are the ones that usually go up?"

Now the confusion morphs to anger and annoyance as she speaks, "Oh? Am I not capable shadowsinger?"

"No No! It's just that they are dangerous as they are- and well, your a female far more powerful than any of them-who knows what they may try to do to you?" The words fly out of Azriels mouth in a blur.

"Your right, i am more powerful than them-If I must I will fight them-inf act I'll do it in front of the whole of the camp as a lesson." the Illyrian females eight, bright green, siphons flare like green flames licking within the small gem shapes.

"Just-just be careful ok?" Azriel knew he couldn't fight the female-couldn't convince her to stay, and he knew she was very capable, powerful, but deep down he couldn't' help the gut feeling that something was going to go wrong- that she would be hurt.

"Always shadowsinger." She smirked as she dropped backwards off the balcony railing, falling for a moment before her wings flared open and she soared for the mountains- always with the dramatic exit.

-----

As I make my way through the frigid night to the cabin I am staying in I hear footsteps- ten separate sets of them trailing through the snow-following me. I whirl around only to be caught off guard by a punch to the face, I stagger back- quickly kicking my attacker in his kidney. The male lets out a groan, kneeling to the floor before before i kick him again, this time in the face. As I use my power, effectively killing the brute; another male comes up from behind, pulling my head and exposing my neck, just before I'm able to fling him off I feel a needle in the side of my neck. Shit.

I feel my body start to go numb, my knees giving out as the male behind me catches me. I barely get another glimpse before my eyes are rolling back as I go limp in his arms.

-----

"I'm telling you Rhys- its been five days, you said she'd be back in three. There has been no warning of a longer stay and no-"

"Azriel! Stop it! Yn is capable- you know that better than anyone, she will be fine!" A sigh, "If she doesn't come back within two days-we will go after her. ok?"

Knowing he wouldn't win this, Azriel bows his head before stalking out.

-----

The next day the doors to Rhysand's office were thrown open, the Shadowsinger storming in. He knew something was off with yn and he was not going to sit around any longer. He just, he just knew she wasn't ok and the fact no one seemed to care made him blind with rage. He didn't understand this feeling, he'd never been nearly this mad at his family before but he couldn't shake the fire burning underneath his skin.

"Im leaving and you're either coming with me or staying out of my way." Azriel didn't need ti explain, everyone in the room knew what he was talking about- well more like seething like a wild animal, his hair tousled as he glared ahead.

The high lord lets out an exasperated sight, "Az- we talked about this, if sh-"

"No! No! What of it were Mor? What if it where Feyre, or Nesta?"

"That's different-"

"No its fucking. Not. Now are you coming with me or no?"

As he turns to leave the room, Cassian moves to him,p placing a hand on his shoulder as he tries to reason, "Maybe-"

"Let. Me. Go."

"Az-"

"Let him go Cass."

The Illyrian let's his brother go sighing as he does so.

-----

Azriels shadows are in a frenzy as he lands in the camp- hurt- experiments-torture-ten-hurt-help-help!- Help her! Now! Faster!

The male sprints, running faster than he ever has as his shadowsa lead him deep into the woods where one lone cabin stands.

'basement- ten males-she's hurt-save her'

As the door is pushed open a man jumps for Azriel, he waist no time, sending his shadows down the mans eyes and strangles him as he slumps to the floor, the next males ends with a dagger in his head, the one after with a slit throat, choking and spluttering on his own blood, the fifth with shadows circling his body, pooling into the open whiles they find. The next is thrown from the house with Azriel's power, the next just obliterated, the eighth and ninth are thrown into each other, going on conscious before being stabbed in the throat. The final tenth one stands at the top of the stairs, thrown down and ending with a sickening crunch.

Azriel stomps down the stairs, being met with a sight that nearly makes him throw up as he rushes to the female. Yn lays naked and strapped to a cold metal table, her body covered in blood, vomit, piss, and puss that oozes from concerning wounds, her body is also littered in bruises, slices, and what look to be needle injection sights. And her wings, gods her wings were shredded, hooks tethering them to the ground. As he moves to her he notices a journal lying open...

they were using her as a fucking experiment- they had pushed who know what into her body, torturing her slowly.

"Az?" Her usual strong, sassy voice replaced with a weak whimper.

"Hey, hey I'm here." He brushes her hair behind her ear softly, his face softening immediately as he stares at her. she looks tired, so tired.

"You came for me?"

"Yes, I always will. Ok sweet girl, I need to release your wings ok? It's going to hurt."

She says nothing as she stares forward, Azriel grabbing the first hook and ripping it out- a small cry leaves her lips but she's out of energy, screaming far to much these past few days. Azriel moves to the next wing, pulling the second hook out, her wings drooping as he moves to unbind her. He slowly pulls her up and into his arms, cringing at the whimpers and squeaks she releases. "Oh sweetheart. I am so so sorry."

Azriel knows he can't transport her in this condition so he quickly calls for Rhys.

'Rhysand!' his panicked voice rings down to the other males mind

'Azriel? What is it?'

'It's Yn, bring Madja-quick.'

'I'm on my way now.'

"Az?"

"Yes?"

"Come here."

The shadowsinger leans his head down- surprised as Yn surges forward ever so slightly, pressing their lips together, molding them to each other like they were made for each other. Before any more can happen, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Madja appear in the room.

-----

Azriel watches as Yn's chest rises and falls slowly. She'd been out nearly three days now and Azriel couldn't leave her side, nor could he stand to look his family in the eye. They were part of the reason they were in this position right now, why Yn still lay on her bed, deep in sleep.

-----

The next morning Azriel is woken up by a soft voice. "Az?"

"Yn. hey, your awake." The male rushes to her side as he helps her sit up slowly. As the two make eye contact Azriel feels it, and judging by the gasp she lets out, Yn does too."

"Mate?" They speak at the same time. Smiling like two kids in a candy shop as they simply look into each others eyes for a moment. Unable to help himself, Azriel leans in, kissing he mate softly.

-------

Sooooo, hey guys! I felt like writing a feral Az but also wanted some sweetness sooooo here you go. Some of this did get inspired by the lovely work of @afandomangel but it was original work of mine, I've wanted to write feral Az for a while now. I want to leave this saying- Guys PLEASE send in requests, part of the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I a having serious writers block and my inbox has been open-and empty- for...well since In opened it and I needdddddd you guys to send in requests, I write everything and I write for a lotttttttt of fandoms, not just acotar so please please send in requests. Anywt\ay love you guys and I hope you enjoyed

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #elain x reader #elain archeron #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand #x reader #fem reader #x you #illyrian #illyrian reader

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 6 months

Text

The family you make

Azriel's week: Day 1

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 1300+

You returned to the House of Wind more mentally than physically exhausted, tears stinging your eyes. You regretted the silly decision the moment you stepped into your parents' house. How could you be so naive to think things would change? After so many years that only proved that your parents wouldn't change. Never.

For them you were the biggest disappointment in their perfect lives. Whatever you did, nothing was enough, nothing was good. Your work in Library and cooperation with High Lord and inner circle? Pointless. Living in the High Lord's palace? Pathetic. Being part of his inner circle? Embarrassing. Suddenly your entire life felt like one big failure and you were drowning in it.

You were so tired and beaten by the life itself, that you weren't able to make it all the way to your room and needed to find some silent place nearby where you could put yourself together, away from prying eyes. You looked around, realising there is small family library right on your left.

Silently you entered and quickly closed the doors behind. You forced legs to take you to the one of the corners hidden behind shelves where nobody would notice you. As you dragged yourself through the room you didn't see anybody in there. The sets of armchairs and sofas were empty as well as the aisles between the shelves. You sighed in relieve. At least Mother had been merciful to you. Sitting down in the dark corner you pulled knees to chest and resting head on your arms you gave free rein to the feelings.

You didn't hear anybody to enter the library, so you startled when a deep voice came from the other side of aisle.

“Are you okay?” You couldn't see a thing because of the tears that wouldn't stop rolling down your cheeks, but you didn't even need to. You knew the voice as well as his owner. It was Azriel, the dangerously looking shadowsinger.

You became part of inner circle just recently and while others had welcomed you with open arms, he kept his distance. You still vividly remembered as he flinched when he first met you as well as his piercing gaze that followed you for the rest of that day. It was quite uncomfortable, making you feel naked in public. Even now you sometimes sensed his eyes being glued to your back causing unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. Only good point was he had never been mean to you, but he wasn't friendly either.

“I'm fine,” you managed to breath out between sobs, still hiding face in sleeves. Azriel huffed.

“If you insist,” was the only thing he said, but you could hear the sound of his boots getting closer to you. You tried to stifle sobs, but he certainly still heard them anyway. Wings rustled as he sat down in front of you. “Something happened when you went to visit your parents earlier?” Surprised, you looked up at him through tears.

“How do you know where I went?” He shrugged shoulders as if to say that the answer is clear. Another wave of tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered all the insults parents told you today.

“Sometimes people we are bond to by blood aren't the best of the family,” he said, his voice much softer than you had ever heard him to use.

“They are the only family I have,” you opposed. A lump rose in your throat as sadness consumed your inside.

“You are wrong,” he simply said.

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He measured you from head to toe with unreadable expression.

“We are your family or at least can be one if you let us.” His hazel eyes with gold flecks wandered around your face, searching for answer on unspoken question. You were too tired and felt so bad, you really didn't get what he was telling you at first. You shook your head in frustration. Corners of his perfect mouth lifted up in hardly-there smirk.

“Rhys and Cassian already consider you their little sister. Mor and Feyre like you, too. I'd dare to say even Amren kind of likes you in her own way.”

Any other day these words would make you happy, but today wasn't that day. For some reason it hurt you even more. His words were like salt to your widely open wound and you broke down. Azriel made a restless noise and his wings rustled while shadows whirled around you, caressing your back and arms. He hesitantly reached out and his big warm hand landed on your head, gently patting it.

“They really do?” you sobbed.

”Yeah.”

“And what about you?” He stiffened. “You don't want me around you and your family.” You felt bad for what you said as soon as the words left your mouth. It was a blow below the belt, especially when he was trying so hard to be nice.

He thought about it for a second, silence stretching between you. "I like you too," he muttered reluctantly at last, his voice slightly shook on word 'like'.

"Liar," you laughed through tear, but there wasn't any joy in it.

"I'm honest. You are my family," Azriel stated, his voice flat of any emotions. "Maybe I can't show it as easily as others, but I do think so. Really." His eyes seemed to be earnest, but his body was sending the opposite signals. You just nodded, blush spreading on your face. Even though it was confusing, something in his statement put on a spark in your chest and you felt a bit better.

"Thank you," you muttered. One corner of his mouth lifted up forming a lovely dimple in his cheek, his hand slipped down to your shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly.

"Anytime," he mumbled. "I'm here for you." He watched you for a while with lips pressed into a tiny line. "Should I leave you alone?" he asked hesitantly.

You shook head. "I mean if you don't mind, but you probably have some work to do." You wanted to add that he always seemed to be busy, but you didn't. Azriel just nodded in answer.

And so you sat there in quite comfortable silence. Your sobs gradually calmed down, but he continued to rub your arm in soothing circles.

Suddenly doors opened and you could hear heavy steps. "Y/N, you in there?" Cassian called into the room. Azriel looked into your wide eyes and nodded once in understanding. Then he swiftly stood up and peeked from the aisle.

"She isn't here," he answered seemingly bored. "Do you need something from her?"

Although you couldn't see Cassian, you could imagine how his brows furrowed now.

"Not really. Y/N went to her parents, but she should be already back. She's always depressed after that, so I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

"I see," Azriel said without interest. "Did you try her room?"

"Yeah, I did, but she isn't there. Books are quite her comfort, so I thought she might be in here. Never mind. I'm going to ask Clotho if she has seen her." And with that Cassian left.

Azriel waited few moments before he returned to you. "You okay?" he asked sitting back down.

"Thanks," you nodded. Once Rhysand told you that even though it didn't look like that, when it comes to family, Azriel is very caring and protective type. Now you wondered if this was also his way of taking care of family. As you were thinking about it, something warm raised in your chest.

You wiped your tears on the sleeve. "I guess I should go clean myself. Cassian is already worried enough. He doesn't need to see me like this."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Azriel cocked head to the side, watching you carefully.

"I feel much better thanks to you. I'm really grateful," you gave him small smile.

Shadowsinger just nodded, helping you stand up. Then he stepped aside, so you could pass him.

Before you turned the corner you looked back at him once again, but he was already searching the shelves with books. "Thank you," you whispered and left.

#azriel fanfic #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azrielappreciationweek2023

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Text

Flight Patterns Part 2

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - Slight power abuse, mentions of trauma and scars. Scene jumping to ensure I got two of the dragons introduced.

A/N- We are getting a fairly calm Aerilyn in this part since they are doing everything they can to make her feel comfortable and safe, but Caged animals tend to be the most dangerous. This is also going to give us a peek at her and Rhysand and the incoming slow burn between them. The next few parts will flow smoother, but still have some jumps to ensure I get the dragons introduced quickly. Only next time might be Rhys seeing one up close. 🫠

Edited to add - my brain is not getting me the euphoria I like to have when I post, please do not be surprised if I edit this before posting part 3.. maybe I looked at it too long, maybe I'm being critical of myself, but we be here 🙃

Word Count - 4970

Part 1 Part 3

Aerilyn did not know what to think of the small being in front of her. Her first instinct was to laugh, but she held it in picking up on her less than amused body language as the male she knew from somewhere spoke to her. They'd been communicating back and forth in her first tongue for over an hour, but it was clearly something the other female struggled with. A dead language she had called it.

Now she was testing Aerilyn's ability to speak common. "Rhys said you knew letters but cannot speak to me in this language," her voice drawled out.

Inaccurate, Aerilyn thought to herself. But we can play this game for a little while. She cocked a brow, blinking in faked confusion.

The female rolled her eyes. "I told them you'd be a lost cause. Feral beasts are best left to other beasts." She blinked again, knitting her brows together. She stored the insult in her mind for later, ignoring the heat pooling in her blood to bite back.

She did know this. She had tricked the male in her head well if he thought she had less education than a child. "I assume you don't know your name then?"

"Ari," she whispered. "Name Ari."

The female nodded. "So you can understand me but not speak the language I'm speaking?" She blinked blindly again, grinning internally when silver eyes rolled in annoyance. "I will inform the High Lord." The small fae left with her arms crossed and Aerilyn sighed. She walked out the balcony, staring at the city far below her and admiring the pretty sparkling lights.

She'd only ever seen a village from dragon back as they moved from place to place in search of food and safety.

Her childhood with them and their riders had been happy. Filled with laughter and adventure. Until they made the mistake of traveling across the continent.

Rumors had reached their ears of a city that would welcome riders and their drakes. Aerilyn and her mount had been left behind to guard the mountain they currently held shelter in, and one by one 6 other winged beasts returned to her. Riderless and in mourning. She was still young at that point, barely into her adulthood, and was now tasked with learning to control 6 other mounts on top of her own.

She whistled softly 4 times, she knew they were near. And the wind shifted rotation before lightning stuck high in the clouds, revealing a large body and ever faithful wings gliding.

"I'd just throw her back in the woods," Mor stated. "She had 4 drakes, and we have no clue what they can do. Do you really think having her here is safe?"

Cassian growled, his fist closing tightly under the table. "She's my sister."

Azriel avoided his gaze, jaw slightly clenched as he stated the one fact they all knew. "She's dangerous and a liability. We can't even speak to her to tell her we mean her and them no harm."

Amren rolled her eyes. "I think she's lying about that. I think she can speak common. I think she chooses not to. Just as all riders have throughout the history of time."

Amren shifted as all eyes landed on her. "She knew I was asking her name. Her accent is thick and heavy, but she pronounced everything clearly instead of struggling through it like a truly uneducated and mute fae would."

Cassian shook his head at Amren in disbelief. "She lived in the woods, Am. There's no way-"

"She speaks a completely dead language last used by dragon riders," Amren cut him off, annoyance slipping into her tone as she stared at the general as if he had gone stupid overnight. "She is somehow alive after her wings were cut so deeply that parts of her skin were still attached. Or did you forget the condition you received them at your feet in?" Amren turned her head to the window as a flash of lightning appeared from nowhere. "She may have been alone when you found her, but she wasn't always alone."

Rhysand jumped as a loud crash of thunder shook the mountain. "It wasn't supposed to rain today," Azriel said slowly as he moved towards the window. "We need to warn people to get inside. Look at how dark the clouds are."

Amren's eyes went to the clouds, a small smirk on her face. "We're about to see one of the beasts in her arsenal. Might want to go calm your little mate, Rhysand"

Rhys shook his head. "Velaris is shielded from magic. My people and court are safe."

Mor spoke softly, a reminder to everyone in the room. "Not all drakes attack with magic, Rhys. Some can use the elements. Summoning the storm was the only magic it used, and the shield doesn't stop weather. Now, it gets to control the severity of it."

As if confirming Morrigan's warning, lightning struck Ramiel and thunder shook the ground again as rumble fell from the mountain top. The jaws of the three Illyrian males all twitched.

The sky became a show of lights as heavy rain began to pound down on the court, gathering faster than the ground and Sindra would be able to handle it. "It's going to flood the court," Mor realized slowly. "We are trapped in the valley of a mountain, Rhys. It's going to flood the court until it gets her back."

Rhys went up the stairs, rage fueling every step as Cassian kept pace with him.

Aerilyn jumped from where she stood near the balcony, watching as her true mount showed the Night Court not even a fraction of what he could do and a glimpse of the destruction he could bring. She knew he could level this little city, but had asked him not to through their bond.

Rhysand gripped her arm, turning her so quickly her head spun and pointed to the sky with his brows raised as if he expected her to answer. She cocked her head to him, blinking twice before pulling her arm from his grasp and moving towards Cassian faking fear. "What is your beast doing?" Rhysand growled at her, his eyes blazing with fury she had never seen or felt before. She didn't answer and he exploded.

"What the fuck is happening to my court?!" The demand in his voice had Aerilyn almost trembling. "What in the fuck is that thing doing?!"

She stared at him doe eyed, moving closer into the protection Cassian offered and keeping up her act. "Rhys, stop, she clearly doesn't understand you."

The High Lord looked enraged. Yanking the bond so hard Aerilyn released a small scream and fell to her knees. Cassian knelt to her immediately, craddling her head and holding her close to him. He had never felt powerless because of Rhysand, but he did now. "Call. It. Off." He growled at her. "Call your damned beast off before I kill it."

She held her chest, eyes wide as she looked between Rhys and Cassian. The High Lord's eyes softened temporarily, realizing his mate had no clue what that string was. Anger came back to him as another round of lightning stuck closer to the House of Wind.

Aerilyn knew that was a warning. A loud warning that if he hurt her again, if he shouted at her again, if he even detected fear down their sacred connect, the gates to hell would be opened, and death would follow.

Rhys went to the balcony, opening it and bracing himself as winds whipped and rain pelted him. He began to watch the sky, watching for any sign of the beast hiding in those dark clouds. A flash of light allowed him to have eyes on it, and he turned to his mate, finger pointed to where he now knew the dragon was hovering. He offered one last time, "Call of the drake, or I will blood Mist him."

Aerilyn looked between him and Cassian. Her brother's jaw was tight. "Rhysand, she doesn't understand. It is protecting her."

"And I'm protecting my fae and home," Rhysand growled to his general. "A home you also swore to protect, Cassian. Remember your place."

Cassian stood, his eyes narrowing. "Isn't my place at your side, brother?"

Rhys put his hand down, realizing the error in his sentence. "Cassian-"

"Don't bother." The illyrian male knelt back down to his sister.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't hurt him." Cassian's face fell slightly. "Gentle. Kind." Aerilyn was still playing her cards. Knowing she could not drop the faked persona until she knew one of them was going to protect her, until she knew one of them would return her. "Scared."

Cassian placed a large hand on her cheek. "You or the dragon?"

Her brows knit. "Both," Rhysand said slowly. "They're both afraid." The High Lord caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, realizing now how much he behaved like his father in this incident.

The rain lightened up at Aerilyn's command. Her mound came closer to the balcony, but still far enough away to prevent any physical attacks. Aerilyn moved to the balcony, and Rhys and Cassian both watched as her face fell into deep sadness. "Enlil," her hand went out and the dragon approached, getting close enough to her palm to allow her to touch his muzzle.

The males both immediately noted two things:

The first was that this dragon was truly a work of art. A large scaled body that appeared grey, but those scales had began to reflect the lights and surroundings, hiding him within plain sight to anyone looking. He had wings that Rhys could only describe as being similar to painted glass as gentle light passed through them. Even his ice blue eyes were beautiful, and shockingly to them both, filled with love and worship towards the female hugging him.

The second thing they noted was where Aerilyn and Enlil were touching was glowing with a faint blue light. It was as if the contact between them was a sign of magic. And to Rhysand's horror, he realized it was. He knew enough about dragon's and their riders to know this was a bond formed between their souls. His mate was this dragon's true mount.

And that meant had he misted this dragon, he would have killed her too.

The dragon could live without the rider, the rider could not live without the dragon. That bond was too fragile, too sacred, too powerful.

Rhys approached slowly, holding a hand back to Cassian. He knew drakes could understand the languages of the fae, and made an offer. "There is a cave, in the mountain," he pointed to it. "It used to be a dragon pit back when the Night Court had riders in their armies. It can comfortably fit 14 dragons."

The drake seemed to understand his offer, those crystalline eyes flicking back to his rider. "You can bring your hoards of treasures and other friends there, you will be safe there as she is here."

Rhysand dropped the scent ward he had on their mating bond, allowing the drake to sniff it out. He flew back slightly, sparing one last look towards Aerilyn and turned the rain to no more than a light Mist before flying away.

Rhys motioned for his mate to enter the room again and shut the balcony doors. He hid the hurt in his heart as Aerilyn tucked herself into Cassian's side again, using him as her shield.

A shield from him.

Rhysand's shoulders fell in defeat. "I need to know what I welcomed into my court."

Aerilyn just simply tucked further into Cassian's side, her soaked hair dripping onto the hardwood floor below her as she shivered.

Rhys nodded, closing his eyes, and walked out of the door. Amren, Azriel, and Mor all waited in the hall. "Amren, I need you to find books of the different types of drakes, preferably with pictures." The ancient being nodded and immediately left to go to work. "Azriel, how many were actually in the cave?" The shadowsinger didn't answer, his jaw set in a clenched hold. "I realize I fucked up, Azriel. I don't need you to tell me how badly. I already know."

"She has 7 total dragons in her possession. They all look different." He reported back calmly what his shadows had discovered. Azriel went to the door, knocking before entering. He greeted Cassian and Ari softly before shutting the door behind him.

Mor looked at Rhys. "You have to fix that."

The male nodded. "I will. After he calms her down and gets her to sleep."

Cassian held Aerilyn tight after he made her change into different warm clothing. She couldn't help but cuddle closer into him.

It was familiar, and she knew that. She knew his scent, his smile. She knew what he was to her, and she to him.

He placed a long kiss on her temple, a prayer going to any God that listened one more time as he wrapped a large wing around her. No words passed between the siblings, and no words needed to.

Her eyelids began to feel heavy quickly as his calloused hands began a long forgotten motion, running through her hair and scratching her scalp in all the right places.

"You're safe, sis," Cassian mumbled, falling into a light sleep of his own. "No one will ever hurt you again."

The inner circle sat at the dinner table, waiting for at least Cassian to appear.

Azriel was the last to see the siblings. He had said she was fine, just shaken up. Cassian he had not mentioned.

They heard a set of foot steps approach the room and Cassian entered silently. He took the plate from the place that had been set near Rhys to force proximity and moved it further down the table. He began taking food without permission from the High Lord and ate in silence.

Azriel began to eat as well, not wishing to push a clearly angry male to speak. Mor looked down then to Rhys, her eyes pleading with him to fix the situation.

"Cassian," Rhysand started slowly. The general grunted in response. "Is she okay?"

Cassian set his fork down. "Considering you threatened the only thing she's known as family for the past 300 years? Sure, Rhys, she's fine. She trusts us so much already." Cassian went back to eating, effectively ending any conversation before it could begin.

Rhys just looked down, pushing his own food around on his plate. He could feel she was heavily asleep, that her dreams were pleasant. "It was attacking my court, our home."

Cassian looked up at him slowly. "Because we kidnapped her from them and theirs. Because she doesn't feel safe and somehow that thing knows through the bond they share."

Amren's interest peaked, "She's bonded to one?" Rhys and Cassian both nodded. Amren just settled into her chair, silver eyes now ablaze with excitement. The ancient being sipped the liquid in her glass, a small smirk forming. "Woo her, Rhysand. That dragon will only leave if she dies, and if they were a pack, you could now have 7 damn near indestructible beasts at your whim."

Cassian pushed his plate away, standing and leaving the table.

The undeniable smell of anger was radiating off of his skin and tainting the air. Rhys felt his shoulders fall in defeat.

Cassian never left the table without finishing his meals.

He did tonight.

Aerilyn woke up to the sun shining in her room and the smell of something bitter. She wrinkled her nose as she sat up and caught sight of the short haired male who originally found her.

He was sitting in her room, looking out the balcony, a cup with steam rising from it in hand. He had a thick book resting on his lap and parchment on a table next to him.

Azriel raised his hand to her, motioning for her to come closer with a single finger.

She stood next to him, following where that finger now pointed. In a deep gentle voice he asked her, "Name?"

A solid black dragon with scales like spilled oil was sitting at the entrance of the cave put Rhys has allowed them access to. They were on shifts, watching her room perfectly from that ledge, and protecting each other. "Achlys."

Azriel nodded and held the book. "Type?"

Aerilyn went through the pages, doing her best to focus on pictures instead of reading. She finally reached the page regarding drakes of poison and pointed. Azriel pales slightly before adding the gentle giant to his started list. Under Enlil was pages to books and his power type. Now, under Achlys name was pages referring her.

He had 5 more spots set, but did not push her. He held the mug filled with the bitter black liquid up to her. "Try it."

She took the mug, fingers grazing his scarred hands and sniffed it. She took a tiny sip before looking at Azriel with a look of absolute devastation and betrayal.

Azriel couldn't help but to let out a loud laugh as he saw her eyes going wide, her bottom lip pouting out, and her nose scrunching. He took the mug from her and pulled out a separate parchment piece.

It has her name on the top along with little observations he's made regarding her. Under dislikes he added "Black Coffee," with an amused smile.

"Mean," she glared at him as he continued to laugh. Azriel faked insult and put his hand to his chest. Aerilyn couldn't help the sympathy flowing through her as she took on of his hands in hers. "Fire?" He just nodded, allowing her to study them.

Aerilyn wanted to drop the act. She wanted to ask who did this to him, where they were now, but she couldn't. She settled with kissing his palm.

Azriel moved to her closet when she was done. Picking a soft two piece outfit for her. He spoke slowly to her, trying to ensure she understood. "Change and then food."

Her stomach made a noise of agreement and he laughed again, leaving the room to allow her to change from the t-shirt Cassian had been wearing yesterday. The clothing left little to the imagination. It was a deep plum color, but the fabric was sheer. The top dipped low in the front and ended before her navel, the long sleeves were sheer. The matching pants were also fairly sheer after the modesty paneling that would prevent her from being exposed.

Azriel entered the room as if knowing she was changed and immediately took her hand, pulling her into the hallway.

Aerilyn's mouth began to water as they went down the stairs, and her stomach made an when louder noise that had the male pausing, sending her a small look of sympathy, before continuing.

The house was stunning. Lavish furniture, golden balcony and lanterns. It was the most expensive place she had ever been, granted most of her days were spent in a cave surrounded by beasts and their individual hoards.

Azriel pulled her into a dinning room where the inner circle all sat waiting for him. "Brought a friend to breakfast," he said simply as they all stared in shock. He pulled a chair out for her, sitting her down across from Cassian before moving to sit next to her.

He began to pile food onto a plate, occasionally putting something under her nose to smell and only adding it if she nodded. Eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and countless fruits now sat on her plate.

He gave her the option of water and some dark purple color liquid that smelled like berries.

Cassian offered her a small smile. "No coffee?"

Azriel didn't freely give them the smiles he had been handing her. "Tried that. She looked at me like I just stolen everything warm and wonderful in her world."

A beautiful blonde laughed lightly. "Well you either drink coffee one or two ways, Azriel. Black or loaded with caramel and sugar. Balance is needed, Az!"

The room fell into hushed silence as the male who stood on the other end of the string Aerilyn had been studying entered.

He stared at her for a brief moment, his lips almost giving into a twitch and his eyes softening. He continued his walk to the head of the table and sat. "Good morning." A chorus of "Mornings" welcomed him as he began to take food. He looked directly at Aerilyn, "Man erin"

"Man Erin," she whispered back.

"Eat." Rhysand said to everyone. "We have a long day ahead of us."

Rhys and Aerilyn kept glancing at each other as they ate. One looking away when the other would notice them. She felt herself slightly flushing under his gaze, feelings she'd never had beginning to mix with the fear she felt towards him.

He was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. Dark hair, a chiseled face, tanned skin. His eyes felt like starlight.

She wanted to map those eyes, log them like the ancient kings, watching them for hours until they were all they knew.

Rhys also felt emotions mixing with what he knew what physical attraction. The twins had done well cleaning her and allowing her features to be seen. Long dark hair fell into waves down to the curve of her ass that Rhysand wanted to sink his teeth into. Her high cheekbones and delicate jawline framed lush blush lips and eyes like melted chocolate.

She would be easy to physically fall in love with, and if he could woo her, if he could drop his pride long enough to open vulnerability between the two of them, maybe it would be easy for him to emotionally fall for her as well.

Cassian and Azriel led Aerilyn out of the House of Wind to an open area filled with sparing dummies. Cassian was radiating, he had been since the two shadow wraiths changed her into the training leathers she saw Illyrian warriors wearing when she'd spy on the camps. He had been since he inspected her perfected braided hair that was tucked and twisted to keep it out of her face and prevent it from being a target.

He had been since he saw his sister, exactly as she should have been.

Azriel moved away from them, setting something else up and then sat and waited for Rhysand. She knew he was joining them. Cassian pulled her to a table filled with battle maps and empty parchment as if it was his favorite personal space and he began to write.

Can you read? His handwriting was sharp almost as if he moved his hands like he was dicing an enemy with a knife instead of handling a pen.

"Yes," Aerilyn said.

Cassian rose a brow. You know what yes and no means?

"Yes."

He nodded a small smirk forming. Do you know how to fight?

Aerilyn looked at him, her own dark brows raising as Rhys and Azriel made their way over. She took the pen from Cassian, shocking the three of them. I fly dragons. I had to learn to fight.

Rhys sucked in a breath. "You can read and write." She nodded at him. "You just can't speak our language."

She wrote again, lying through her teeth still for reasons she was forgetting as today's kindness had become an almost comfort, all of them studying her like hawks that found prey. Never made it that far. Letters in your language have too many sounds. And there's weird bull shit rules. Like "to, two, and too." Who uses 3 words that's letters should all sound the same creating the same word 3 times but for some reason they all evidently mean something else?

Azriel closed his eyes, hiding a laugh with a cough and cleared his throat. "Yup. Definitely Cassian's sister. Makes what you two are doing next possibly easier, though."

Rhysand picked at his leathers, trying to remain indifferent despite the joy flooding both him and Aerilyn. He went into her mind again, finding one pathway that wasn't a mess of trauma and mistrust. He began following it to see if he could figure out what all Aerilyn knew. Her thoughts were in several languages with an occasional one in common tongue. Ancient Ruskian, the Old tongue, the language of the long lost elves, and several others.

A slow realization hit him and he looked at his brothers immediately expressing it to them in their minds. "You were not alone in those woods, were you?"

Aerilyn kept her eyes locked on the parchment, shaking her head. Can we just get the fighting over with? I don't want to talk about that.

Cassian almost began to bounce, beaming with excitement and joy. "After we warm and run, sunshine," he ruffled her hair as her face dropped completely.

No one said running would be involved. Aerilyn immediately turned towards the door, only to be stopped by Cassian quickly ripping her back and turning her to throw her over his shoulder. "No way, little one. You are not getting out of this, Aerilyn."

Aerilyn looked at Rhys, eyes pleading. "Please?" Her voice reminded him of red aged wine. Sultry, sweet, capable of convincing him to spend all of his money.

He wanted to give into her, to give into those big chocolate brown eyes begging him to stop this from happening, but they needed a baseline or her knowledge in everything to keep her safe, even if that safety one day was no longer with him.

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, darling. It is for your best interest."

Aerilyn collapsed 30 minutes later onto the training mat. They were trying to kill her. Rhysand sat next to her, lightly laughing as he handed her water.

Aerilyn hated cardio. She had always hated cardio. She did not even understand why cardio was a thing. She took the water, taking a drink before rolling to her stomach and laying in defeat.

Rhys poked her side, "I think she is done, Cassian." He could feel it through the bond, read it in her body language. He admired the pieces of her hair that had fallen from the braids. He watched her chest rising and falling. She had taken off the longer sleeved training shirt a while ago, exposing her toned arms and back in the tanktop. Despite the tanned skin, a peek of white was showing. A peek of a scar was showing.

She stiffened as he moved the shirt more and he blanched.

No care had been taken when her wings were removed. Deep thick scarred skin sat where her wing should have been. Cassian froze when he saw them as well, the night that her small wings where thrown to his feet immediately coming to the forefront of his mind.

Aerilyn moved away, standing with her back to the three of them, her posture began caving in on itself as her mind screamed insecurities at her.

She knew of beauty standards. She knew scars were not considered beautiful, and despite not being raised in normal society, she wanted to be beautiful. She wanted to be seen as beautiful.

She backed away as tears began to fall. "It's okay," Rhys moved to her, speaking softly. "It's okay, Ari."

She shook her head before breaking into a run into the house. Shadows followed her as Cassian stopped Rhys from following. "Give her a second," the general kept repeating.

But how was he supposed to give her a second? How was Rhys supposed to let his mate lock herself in her room and be alone?

How was he supposed to leave her alone when she didn't believe she was beautiful?

A loud roar broke them all from their trance and their heads snapped to the opening near the mountain. Azriel began to back away, panic and fear setting into him as a large red and gold bodied drake flew towards Aerilyn's balcony.

They didn't need her to tell them what kind of beast that was nor the destruction it could bring.

They all already knew, and this confirmed a deep set fear they had.

Aerilyn had access to a fire Drake.

Rhysand put himself between Azriel and where the dragon flew.

"No one speaks a word of this. Knowledge that there is a fire Drake does not leave our boarders. I do not want to deal with Beron anytime soon. It's bad enough we already have to hide the Storm Drake from Tamlin."

Cassian released a shaking breath. "What happens if this all comes out, Rhysand?"

The High Lord shook his head, his mind reeling. "You will lose your sister, I will lose my mate, and those poor beasts that simply want to live and protect her will be hunted or used until their deaths. We keep it quiet to keep them safe."

The three brothers nodded as the flame dragon began to fly back to the cave, something sparkling in its claws.

Azriel, despite his fear, let out a small laugh. "It took a lantern."

The statement broke the tension that had been building between the three males since her arrival. Cassian's loud booming laughter lead to Rhysand's own deep chuckles, and then Azriel's own rang out joining them.

Aerilyn appeared seconds later, a guilty look on her teary face. Her hands clasped in front of her, and she rocked back and forth. Her small motions made their laughter increase and soon her own bell-like giggles started.

She realized slowly, watching the three of them laugh and feeling Rhysand's unadulterated love for the two other males, and the sheer happiness he felt, that she could get used to this. She walked to Azriel, the book on drakes and his sheet in hand to the table and wrote a few simple words. "Hestia. Fire Drake. Likes gems and gold."

Translation - Man Erin - "Good morning"

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