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azrielsoulmate · 2 months

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literally sobbing over this what the hell !!!!!

Do Your Worst

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s lover is having a hard time, but no amount of acting out can push him away

Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)

A/N: Sorry for the silence, I’ve been having terrible writer’s block but I think I did okay with this one!

Today was rubbish. Probably one of her worst days yet.

It had been exactly two months since Hybern captured her from Azriel’s post and took her to their war camp deep in the Spring Court’s woods. Exactly two months since she’d been tortured for information she’d die before giving up. Exactly two months since she’d made peace with her death. Rhys couldn’t track her immediately, Mor and Feyre’s searches came up empty each time, and even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up a clue. Azriel had driven himself mad, downright insane, trying to find her. Each day he spent every waking hour looking for clues, scouring the forests for her scent, and each day he returned to bed with nothing to show for it. It took Amren and Nesta a month to finally locate her. In that month she laid cut and bruised, chained to a wooden post like an animal, struck, cut, and burnt for every question she refused to answer. They left her in the middle of that camp, exposed to the heat of the day, the cold of the night, the rain, the wind, and the thunder. They made her into a spectacle.

She only thought of her family, her Azriel, the entire time. My Azriel, she’d think each time they brutalized her. My Azriel, my Azriel, my Azriel. Rhys collapsed when she allowed him into her mind after they brought her home. He would never forgive himself for sending her on that mission, nor would he ever show his brother what she’d shown him, for Azriel very well would have sent Prythian to immediate war.

And while the cuts, bruises, burns, and broken bones would heal completely, the skin of her back would forever be changed, marred with angry, raised scars from a heavy leather whip. She could barely walk.

The first time Azriel saw the lashes on her back, he was helping her undress the night she returned home. Each movement caused her to cry out in pain. She tried to bite her lip, clench her fist, grip Azriel’s arm, tried anything to keep from crying, but nothing helped– the pain was too much. It would’ve been a mercy from the Mother to fall apart, limb by limb, bone by bone, instead.

Azriel had seen all the other scars when Madja was working on her; those alone made him sick and wild with a hideous rage, potent enough to crumble the mountains surrounding the city into nothing more than powder on the ground. The lashes on her back– the thought of some wretched male stripping her and lashing a whip over her soft, warm skin in the mud and rocks– filled him with a fury so intense, so horrid, he could’ve wrapped his bare arms around the sun and pulled it down to earth. Set everything on fire.

That very night, with names in his ear courtesy of the shadows and Cassian and Rhys positioned at her door, Azriel made each of those names pay. He was back by sunrise, tucked into bed beside her, wing draped over her restless body, and she was none the wiser.

“You’re killing it,” Madja’s appointed physical therapist, Jarrah, encouraged as he watched her do her exercises. He was tall and muscled with glittering, golden-brown skin, looking ever the Summer Court high fae that he was.

“It’s killing me,” she ground the words out, mincing each syllable as they passed through her teeth. Pain gripped her legs, lower back, and upper arms like a vise as she fought to complete a rep, the movements squeezing every last bit of energy out of her and collecting on the mat below in puddles of sweat. “I can’t do it, Jarrah.”

“You can and you will,” he squared his shoulders at her, smile fading as he willed her to find her strength again. In recovery, he’d taught her, there were good days and there bad days– healing was not a linear process.

Some days she did well in physical therapy and pushed herself– the pain only meant she was getting stronger. Azriel would be absolutely beside himself with pride and their friends echoed as much.

Other days, her body seemed to give out in protest, the pain too unbearable, and she’d wonder if she’d ever be the same again. Azriel would encourage her– she knew it wasn’t pity– but she couldn’t stand it all the same. She’d collapse onto the floor against her will during physical therapy, shoving Jarrah away with shame when he’d tried to help her up each time. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dead of night, clammy, and nauseous from a nightmare that felt more and more real each time she had one. Azriel held her to his body whenever she’d jostle awake, heaving and shaking, stroking his warm hands up and down her arms. Other nights he held her hair back as she retched her dinner into the toilet, panting and crying silent tears.

“To expect linearity is to set yourself up for failure,” Jarrah lectured during their very first session when all she wanted to do was get to the hard stuff, to prove that she was alright– that she was still whole. Jarrah did not mind her bad days, but something died within her every time she left training without making any notable progress– every time her body failed her when her mind seemed to be giving its all.

From the moment they started their session this morning, Jarrah noted her body was fatigued and her mind was somewhere else. Oh dear.

“We can take a break–”

“No!” She buckled down and held her position, determined to prove to herself that even on her worst days she could succeed. It was the most enthusiastic response Jarrah had gotten all session from her so he allowed it. He watched her body tremble from the strain, the sweat bead at her temples, the fatigue in her eyes as she fought the pain in her spine.

Her body could not bear it anymore. She felt her traitorous legs give out beneath her and the ground came up faster than she could register, faster than Jarrah could react. A strangled cry crawled from her throat as she collapsed and her body trembled in a pain her mind could barely process.

“Fuck,” a familiar voice rang out from the gym’s entrance and Azriel ran in. Just great. What was he even doing here? After the first training appointment in which Azriel could barely keep himself from choking out Jarrah and coddling her, he agreed to not interrupt her sessions thereafter. His disregard for their agreement made her feel so small.

“Fuck,” Jarrah echoed. He was at her side in two steps, arms outstretched to help her up, but she scooted away as fast as her leadened arms would allow, turning her face away in shame.

“Don’t touch me!” She croaked.

Jarrah stopped himself by the time Azriel was at her side, crouching beside her and taking up what felt like all of the oxygen in her space. Breathe, she tried to remind herself but with Azriel hovering and Jarrah a foot away, both watching her crumpled pathetically on the mats, she couldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

“Get her some water!”

“That’s enough for today, let’s get you some food.”

“... My love?”

Azriel’s soft voice pierced through her terrible thoughts. She felt his strong hands reach under her armpits to help her up but she pushed against his biceps, swatting him off in a desperate attempt to move away. But the pain made her so dizzy, it was difficult to create any real distance.

“Don’t!” she cried out, for it was all she could do, and Azriel dropped his hands immediately. “I can get up on my own.”

Azriel didn’t move. Jarrah placed a comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “We should give her some space.”

Azriel clenched his jaw but it didn’t stop the twitching of his upper lip. He stood abruptly, swiveling on his heels so his face was only mere inches from Jarrah’s, who’d since quickly retracted his hand to himself. To his credit, he kept his shoulders square, but even he wasn’t immune to the pure threat in the Shadowsinger’s glare.

“My mate is in pain, she can’t even stand up, and you want to leave her like this?” He growled.

Anger grappled her lungs, stealing whatever air she’d managed to collect. That was the problem. “I can stand up, Azriel. I’m not made of glass.”

It took her a few minutes, but she did it. She first rotated her hips so she was on her hands and knees. With one foot underneath her, she pushed herself up, trembling, sighing, moaning as her body resisted the upward movement, but she finally stood.

Azriel clenched his hands at his sides to anchor himself back, to resist from helping her. He knew she was capable of doing anything, that she didn’t really need him. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to pursue her all those years ago was because she was so independent that it intimidated him. Azriel wasn’t sure what he brought to the table, what he could do better that she already did for herself, how he would fit into the life she’d built for herself.

But that didn’t change the fact that he would still do anything for her. It didn’t take away that primal need to protect her. He tried his best not to suffocate her but sometimes he couldn’t help his instincts when his love for her outweighed everything else.

She allowed Azriel to link his arm with hers as she waved goodbye to Jarrah, silently apologizing for Azriel’s outburst.

“Let’s get you something to eat, yeah?” His voice was soft as he led her out of the gym and to the townhouse’s sunlit sitting room. “You did so good today, love.”

“I’m not hungry.” Was all she replied. She couldn’t stomach anything after such a rubbish session. Fear that she would never be the same ever again set in, but nobody would understand. No one could even fathom what it would do to her if she couldn’t keep doing her job, going on these missions, protecting this city. If she was relegated to a desk for the rest of her life, she’d have lost everything she’s ever worked for.

“Sure you are. At least something small to keep the medicine down.”

Madja had her on a cocktail of herbs and elixirs– something for the pain, something for the scars, probably something for how fucked her mind had become– she couldn’t keep track. Azriel kept track for her. She swallowed the pills and the bitters he gave her and allowed him to rub the salve into her scars before bed. Whatever. This was life now– being shoddily held together by some combination of antibiotics, gauze, and ointments.

She shook her head in defiance and Azriel sighed, stopping her just before the doorway to the living room where the rest of their friends sat. She was so stubborn– if she didn’t want to do something, no one could get her to do it. It was a quality he admired but also a quality that drove him downright mad at times like this.

“What’s bothering you?”

“You mean besides healing at a snail’s pace and sitting on my ass all day in this house while everyone else goes to work– fulfills some sort of purpose? I’m doing just great.” The smile did not reach her eyes.

Azriel tilted his head as if to say No, really. I know there’s something else. He could read her like a damn book– it had always been that way.

She hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I don’t know if I’ll be the same ever again.”

Azriel’s face softened at the anxiety that weighed on her shoulders so heavily they sagged.

“Of course you will, love. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s been two months and I can’t even climb the stairs without needing a break. My body hurts by the time I go to bed. I can still feel my back– the scars–” the words caught in her throat and she quickly cut herself off before she choked on them, unable to talk too much about it without feeling her body and mind repulse.

“Come here,” Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her frame and pulled her into his body so close their hearts beat in sync before each other as if in private conversation. “The physical training, the medicines, the therapist, you’ve got it all going on. No one here is working harder than you right now.”

“But what if it isn’t enough,” she mumbled into his chest, a single hot tear catching on the fabric of his sweater. She turned her face into his chest to wipe the tear away completely and Azriel’s heart broke for her. He wished he could reach into her chest and pull out the pain with his bare hands, fly with it to Ramiel and drop it at the peaks where it could never find its way back to her ever again. “You know better than anyone, you could do everything right and it still wouldn’t matter. I just need to get better. Be myself again.”

“I will love you no matter what happens. Even if you are never the same, I will still love you. This changes nothing.”

She pushed him away abruptly, hastily wiping away tears as if Azriel couldn’t see them. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him, about him loving her. This was her life. If she couldn’t get back to who she was, fill the roles she’d spent her whole life caring about, where would she stand among her family? Where would she stand in this life? In this world?

“But it changes everything for me,” her eyebrows furrowed incredulously. “I want my body back, my mind back. Thanks for letting me know you’d still love me if I were to be this fucked up forever, but that’s literally the last thing on my mind right now, Azriel. I don’t want to be fucked up forever, I want to get better, and I need you to want that for me too.”

Azriel tried to find the right words, stuttering in his search to say the right thing. He didn’t mean it like that. He only ever wanted the best for her– would kill for her to have what’s best for her. “I-I didn’t mean–”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She huffed, storming past him into the sitting room. Instant guilt flooded her as soon as she left him. Azriel helped however he could. Perhaps it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t put himself in her shoes in this very situation, but he’d gone through something traumatic too, and Azriel definitely knew a thing or two about helplessness. Still, she felt so alone. Azriel tried, but he wouldn’t understand what it was like to be a woman tortured in a camp full of males. What that took from her. She wouldn’t explain it.

Azriel watched her storm off, feeling as if he was failing her all over again. Every night, he watched the dullness in her eyes grow as he handed her the medicines. When she laid down in their bed with practiced monotony so he could rub the salve into the scars stretched across her back, he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. They were nasty things, raised and swollen with blood and she flinched every time he touched them, as if he were delivering the lashings all over again. She was hurting and he felt so helpless. He vowed to always protect her and take away her pains but he could do neither of those things and the thought of it ate him alive everyday. Only the Mother knew the true lengths he’d go to for her. That man would do anything.

In the sitting room, Azriel brought her a sandwich that he put together in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen insisted that would make it, but he politely refused. He wanted to be the one to do it.

“Az, I told you I’m not hungry,” She murmured as he handed her the plate.

“You need to eat something if you want to keep the medicines down,” He reasoned again.

“I know what Madja said, I was there,” She snarked, crossing her arms. She was so tired of people telling her what to do. Jarrah telling her what exercises to do, Madja telling her what medicines to take, Rhys telling her that she shouldn’t try to work again so soon, Feyre telling her she should take more walks, Cassian telling her to drink less wine, Azriel forcing her to eat more food.

“Okay, darling,” He placed the plate on the table when she wouldn’t take it from him.

“Turkey and swiss, okay!” Cassian peeked at the sandwich, nudging her arm. “And he cut it in half too.”

“Just the way she likes it. In half though, not diagonal– too much crust in one bite if it's cut diagonal,” Azriel smiled from where he sat across the table from them. She could have cried at the sight of him, at the love in his eyes, in his voice. Words were never his strong suit but Azriel more than made up for it in acts of service. This was how he showed his love. This was him reaching his hand out, begging for her to take it, to let him in. To let him help.

And she didn’t know why she had such a hard time letting him in. She didn’t want to seem incapable of anything, and letting herself fall apart the way Azriel would allow her to terrified her. She’d never fallen apart before. She didn’t know how she could do it without completely tearing herself and every past wound open again. It broke her heart to watch his smile falter when she didn’t reach for the plate.

“I’m going to bed,” she stood up as quickly as her body would allow and left the room. It was too much. Azriel’s disappointment, everyone’s expectations, watching her, studying her, readying themselves to be there for her if she did explode. She never needed this much attention in the past– to receive so much of it all of a sudden made her feel like she was made of porcelain and everyone was expecting her to shatter at any moment. She could hardly breathe in that room and needed to get out before something within her cracked further.

The stairs loomed before her, mocking with how many there were. Grabbing the bannister until her knuckles paled, she hoisted herself up one step at a time, maneuvering her body so that her entire weight wouldn’t be on one leg for too long.

Nesta appeared behind her, climbing the steps she’d taken over the course of minutes in just mere seconds, with a stack of books in one arm and a handful of her gown in the other. Nesta stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around and looking down at her through long eyelashes.

“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted.

“Fuck off,” she meant to sneer, but it came out in a breathless huff instead. Pathetic indeed.

Nesta let her skirts fall from her right arm as she extended it toward her.

“I don’t need your help.”

“You definitely do.”

“Don’t you have those smutty little novels to get back to?”

“Shut the fuck up and take my arm, or bust your ass these stairs, I don’t care.”

Begrudgingly, she took Nesta’s arm. Neither of them spoke, but Nesta patiently guided her up the stairs, supporting her where she needed it. Out of the entire Inner Circle, she got along the most with Nesta. Their conversations usually followed a very similar pattern as this one did, but only because they each saw a little piece of themselves in the other, even if they never mentioned it.

“Heard you being a bitch downstairs,” Nesta finally spoke when they cleared the last stair and stood at the landing so she could catch her breath.

She couldn’t find it within herself to take offense. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. I don’t know why I do this,” she confessed. She didn’t need to explain further. Nesta automatically understood. When they locked eyes, that silent comprehension flowed between them again and for the first time since arriving back home from the war camp, she felt relief. The kind of relief that made your heart beat out of your chest and go a little dizzy. The kind of relief that came from being completely understood without having to spend the energy trying to put the thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words.

“I know. It’s not your fault.” The words fell softly from Nesta’s lips. It was the last thing she said before she led her to the library. They sat in arm chairs across the fireplace and read for hours in each others’ company. No one came looking for her. No one tried to force a plate of food down her throat. No one wanted her to do those stupid mobility stretches. Nobody was asking her if she was okay. It was everything she needed. So why did she still feel restless, like something was missing?

Azriel.

She left the library after she’d calmed down. In the quiet, amongst the books, when she thought that was all she needed, she felt misery instead. She needed Azriel. She wanted to lay in bed with him forever, feel his skin on hers forever, stay in his warmth forever, feel their heartbeats sing side by side forever. Azriel forever. Nothing else would compare.

When she reached their room, it was empty. Disappointment flooded her chest, but she knew Azriel was giving her space. As she moved closer to the bed, she found a new plate of food waiting beside a note. A remade sandwich, cut down the middle as always.

Your favorite. Was all the note said.

Indeed it was. She polished off the sandwich in a matter of minutes, as ravenous as she was. Actually, she was hungry when Azriel first offered one to her in the sitting room, but she was too stubborn to take it then.

The bath towel beside the note on the bed was warm to the touch. From the soft sound of trickling water in the bathing room, she knew he’d run her a bath. The air above the tub smelled of sandalwood– his scent. As she stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water, the scent encompassed her as if he was in the room with her right then, waiting to join her.

Surely, an hour or two must have passed. Her eyes pried open, the water and soap around her body in the tub still warm and feathery like a winter duvet. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, only that it was the best sleep she’d gotten these past two months. For the first time since coming home, she slept with no nightmares and no nausea to rouse her from rest. She didn’t even dream. She simply passed out.

When she finally left the bathroom, her body wrapped in the towel he’d warmed for her, she found Azriel sitting on the bed with a book nestled in his large hands. As she stepped through the doorway of the bathing room, he looked up, smiling softly. Pure love shone in his eyes like a beacon, flashing and blinking in the darkness that war camp left her in.

At the sight of his soft smile, the gentleness of his features, the relaxed sag of his shoulders, she felt something break.

Sensing a shift in her demeanor, he lowered the book, eyebrows knitting together.

"What's wrong?"

Those two damned words. She bit the inside of her cheek, walking weakly to Azriel's side of the bed. He placed his book on the nightstand and sat up straighter, anticipating her next move.

She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and laid her upper body against his torso, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his body tightly, breathing him in like he was the oxygen she lived off of. Anything else, anything that was not Azriel, and she could just die right there.

He brought his arms around her tightly, heart sinking when he felt her hot tears on his neck. She did not shake. She did not sob. He only felt the wetness on his skin and the erratic heaving of her chest against his as she fought to regulate her breathing.

He did not say anything else. He held her, unmoving except to rub her back or run his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair. His other hand held the back of one of her thighs to keep her in place as she grew increasingly limp in his arms.

"I've been such a wretch." Her voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I've been such a wretch to you. I'm sorry Az."

"Oh my love," He held her as close as he could, willing her to feel the love he held for her in his chest. His love for her ran everywhere his blood did, from his toes to the top of his head, every day and every second, his astonishment of her coursed his body like an electrical current keeping him alive. Without her, there was no pulse.

"How do you put up with me?" He felt her wipe her nose on his shoulder and he couldn't help the smile on his lips.

"Because I love you, and I know your anger has nothing to do with me."

"But you should not have to put up with it."

"I will put up with anything when it comes to you. You don’t ever have to worry about that when it’s you and I,” He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes. “You went through something horrible. You’re going to need time to work through it all, but I will be here for every moment of it. I’m sorry if I’ve been suffocating you, darling. I only do it because I can’t help it. When I see you hurting I wish I could take all of it from you and put it in me.”

“I never want you to hurt,” she told him earnestly. The thought of him going through what she did filled her with rage so sudden and consuming she couldn’t begin to imagine what Azriel felt when they finally found her at the camp.

“I could never when I have you looking out for me,” He smiled that cheeky, boyish smile that came out so rarely.

“I’ve just been having so many bad days. I should be happy that I’m back home, that I’m safe now. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, and it comes out at the wrong times in the wrong ways. But I don’t know what I’d do without you, Az.”

“Even on your worst days, you’re the best of us. So do your worst. I can handle it."

The disbelief in her eyes melted away when he cradled her head, smiling earnestly– and gods, she wished she could commission Feyre to paint him like this– a man smitten. With all the tonics and creams Madja had forced on her, she had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would truly heal her. They helped the symptoms, but never the cause. She’d accepted that it would take a damn miracle to heal the cause. And here Azriel was, pleading and lovely, looking like her damn miracle.

She let him undo the towel from around her body and lay her into the soft covers, warm from where he sat while she was in the bath. Turning over, Azriel smoothed the salve over her scars as he did every night. But for the first time in months, she finally replied to his attempts at starting conversation as he worked. For the first time in months, she laughed genuine laughs that felt only slightly foreign– much like old friends– in her throat. For the first time in months, as he tenderly slicked Madja’s balm over her scars, praying to the Mother for her health over each one he touched, she did not flinch.

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azrielsoulmate · 5 months

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Every corner of this house is haunted

Eris x Wisteria (OC)

summary: Wisteria is required to watch over one of the High Lords social events, and upon her path stumbles the absolute menace that Eris Vanserra is.

a/n: so this is a short excerpt of the story of Wister and Eris, which ive been working on a lot recently :) let me know if i should continue posting things about these two! as always, open to all kinds of feedback

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none

masterlist

The lights flickered around the grand ballroom as Wisteria made her way around the countless revelers. The overwhelming sounds of their small talk was making her nauseous, but she was required to be there - by the High Lord’s orders. She grabbed a goblet of wine from a passing waiter and told herself that soon this grotesque gathering would be over. She looked herself over in one of the mirrors on the side of the room, admiring her gown. If there was one thing she did well - it was sewing. The skirts, scarcely reaching the ground, were made of a few layers of white silks, with a high slit on her left leg, reaching her mid-thigh, where she had strapped a dagger earlier. Her waist was hugged tightly by a brown vest, underneath which she had put on a white undershirt, lightly exposing her cleavage. Maybe this was not the kind of dress most of the ladies there, or their mothers, would approve of, but this had been a fashion choice Wisteria made years earlier - her dresses were functional, and, in her opinion at least, pretty. Besides, they were hers alone, and Wisteria valued that above most things, for in her situation, there was no place for her to own pretty much anything. Not her soul, not her heart and not her hands, sacrificed mainly for doing the High Lord’s dirty work.

A couple years earlier, when Wisteria was about fifteen, a small group of autumn court soldiers had found her father’s corpse in their house’s tea room. He was Beron’s spymaster and even though Wisteria was not home when he was assassinated, the soldiers were still at the place of murder when she came back. They did not seem to care much about the reasons for her father’s demise, only that now there was no one good enough to do his job. Beron’s decision was to take Wisteria in, give her appropriate training to become spymaster one day, since apparently, if she had her father’s genes, she surely must possess at least a fraction of his talent. Wisteria never wondered who exactly killed her father, the man had had many enemies and she purely had no interest whatsoever knowing who actually had thee guts to take revenge into their own hands, Ever since that night she had been living in the Forest House undergrounds, training with a small group of Beron’s spies, most of which, much to her shock, were not older than her.

This time she was supposed to sneak around the ball, and according to the strict orders she was given, she was not to be seen by any of the revelers. In her suspicion Beron did not wish to endure the burden that would become of this situation should the young, unescorted, peasant looking girl be found at the social gathering by one of autumn’s lords. Wisteria was good at hiding though, moving like a shadow through the swishing ballgowns and silks in the massive room. Her abilities, however, did not stop her from being afraid of what the High Lord would do, should she fail. She saw the punishments inflicted upon her fellow spies, fuck, she was even the victim of them, countless times - and they only seemed to get more brutal, year by year. So she allowed Beron to mold her into the obedient spy - absolutely lethal towards anyone the High Lord would point to and showing no signs of disobedience at all. She understood how this world worked - she knew rebelión was not only pointless, but plainly stupid. Besides, Wisteria did not have anyone to care for her or her fate, it was just her and she would do anything necessary to survive. Even if that meant losing a part of the girl she used to be, in the process. Although, Wisteria did not view her demeanor as any kind of strength - she knew better than to try to be brave in the situation she was put in. Strength, to her, was not to let the world toughen her up - but she did not try to fight back as it did exactly that. She was becoming what hurt her more and more everyday, she could see it, the coldness sipping into her bones, finding home there. Her breath no longer hitched when she striked someone in the heart with a dagger and the tears had long stopped, now what Wisteria was left with was a hole inside her soul - a carefully carved out hole and Beron was holding the knife. And she was letting him do it. Fighting back might’ve had sense, if she had any sort of support from anyone. But that was not a privilege Wisteria was given - she was on her own, completely. And it was up to her whether she’d spent the rest of her life tortured in a dungeon or in the grand ballrooms of the Forest House, surrounded by the elitist riches of autumn, even if she’d always feel like an impostor there.

Wisteria turned around to take another lap around the ballroom, observing, listening to conversations, as she bumped into a hard chest. Looking up, she was met with a smirk and the seven freckles of the lordling - Eris.

“You” she seethed “Hello, my lady” he replied, with a stupid smile on his face. She made to go around him, but he grabbed her wrist, turning her around.

“Running already, are we?”

“Fuck off, Eris” she tried to shrug him off

“We’ll, that’s certainly not how you address your future High Lord” he said, looking down at her with a smirk on his face

“I really do not have the energy for thi-“ she tried to say but he interrupted her “Dance with me” “What?” “Dance with me” she gaped at him, was he stupid? “No”

“Why not?” she gaped at him again. Did he really not understand that if his father saw them dancing together from his dais he’d have her head chopped off? She sighed and this time, managed to shrug his hand off. Repeating her answer and telling him to go away, Wisteria went to continue on her way, but heard his footsteps behind her. “Stop following me, pumpkin” she huffed, not even glancing behind her. What she was looking for now, was the High Lord, if he saw that they were anyhow affiliated with one another, she seriously didn’t know what he’d do to her. Wisteria's glances were interrupted with the lordling's voice from behind her “What did you just call me?” she smirked, finally it was her being the reason for his ire “Pumpkin. What, do you not like it?” she said, turning around, to find him dead in his tracks,a blush adoring his face. She laughed then, and that seemed to further his astonishment. Walking up to him, she raised to her tip toes and took a strand of his red hair between her fingers, twirling it around one of them. “Hm, I think it rather fits. Don’t you?” Wisteria asked, her face mere centimeters from his, now eye level with Eris. “Do not call me that ever again” Eris demanded, much to her amusement “What, am I ruining your ruthless image?” he huffed and looked into her eyes, his blush seemed only to deepen. But reality soon crept in and Wisteria was struck with the reminder that she could not be seen like this, and she took a sudden step back. Eris’ eyes narrowed and now it was him smirking. Ignoring it, she once again turned and said “Go away” “No” was the answer and she once again heard his footsteps behind her “I’m rather interested in this little job you’re doing here, I’d like to watch” Eris said with a playful look in his eye. Wisteria was not so stupid to actually trust that look for a single second. She sighed, not happy at all with his games - she didn’t know what he was playing exactly, but she did not like it. What if he would seriously report back to his father? Wisteria knew little of Eris' relationship with the High Lord, and she honestly did not believe it to be good, still, that did not mean he could be trusted. At all. Wisteria’s stomach tightened at the vision of her very little freedom being even further restricted. Sighing she took a sip of her wine and decided to just attempt going about just as she would normally. “Fine.” she sighed.

Keeping to the edge of the ballroom at all times, she and Eris stayed there for the remainder of the night. It was nearing midnight now, but the revelries seemed nowhere near close to resigning to their respective rooms. Looking to her side, Wisteria took in Eris’ slumped shoulders, the light smile playing at the corners of his lips as he was already staring at her, and how he seemed to sway lightly. By the mother was he drunk? “How much did you have to drink?” “Just a little” the boy replied, hiccuping slightly “Gods, Eris, really” she groaned. Wisteria really did not need this right now, why the fuck had she agreed to entertain him again? That seemed to be the question she always asked herself when he’d come to annoy her, night and night again. He’d come, she would get absolutely furious at his childish antics and he would seem not to think much of it. She hated it really, how she couldn’t manage to get him to just fuck off. At least that’s what she kept telling herself, in reality he was the only thing resembling a friend to her here, and she was definitely not about to let him cross this fragile line he was already stepping on. Wisteria could not have friends. Not now at least and not for the foreseeable future. But even if he was absolutely infuriating and annoying and nothing short of a burden to her, Wisteria hated how, to him, she was only a game, a means to find fun on his father’s balls. And how in a few weeks he’d find another plaything to entertain him, and she’d be stranded - so she really would rather have him leave her alone now, she wasn’t planning on attaching to Eris and letting him hurt her.

She sighed for the hundredth time that night and pushed him out of the room “You’re going to bed, pumpkin” “Really, trying to jump into my bed so soon?” groaning, Wisteria did not even have the energy to reply to that. “Huh, so you’re not even going to deny it, are you?” he said, looking at her annoyed figure over his shoulder, a smile playing at his lips. And Wisteria just glared at him, taking in his hitched breathing, hazy eyes and ruffled red hair, a strand falling over his eye. He blew air into it, trying to get it away. Wisteria huffed and pushed him again “If I wanted you in my bed, trust me, you’d be there weeks ago” she said, without thinking, to what he chuckled “Oh, that I will not deny”

About fifteen minutes and thirty times Eris stumbled over his own legs, almost fell on top of her or tried to drag her back to the party later, they were near his door, just around the corner so the guards couldn’t see them. “Well, what are you waiting for, go on in '' she ushered him and he suddenly acted offended “That’s just rude. You should walk me back and tuck me into bed” he said, his chin high, glancing at her through his ridiculously long eyelashes, looking as if he seriously expected that of her. She just sighed, yet again, and pushed him from behind the corner and walked away. Before Eris could turn around, she was gone.

He huffed, stumbling over to his door. One day, he promised himself she would actually make it into his rooms, and with her face before his eyes the lordling entered his rooms. And for once, with her in his mind, the walls of the Forest House didn’t seem so scary, the paintings on the walls didn’t want to stab him in the back and the ghosts seemed afraid, maybe of her this time. And that night, it was dreams of her that haunted his mind - not of his father.

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azrielsoulmate · 5 months

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Covered in you

my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you

Eris Vanserra x Wisteria (OC)

a/n: i am running absolutely late with some chapters for magnificently cursed, so i hope you'll take this little excerpt of the story of my oc, Wisteria :) just something short and sweet

also, keep in mind english is not my first language so if u see anything anyhow inocorrect, no u didn't AND as always, im open to feedback so let me know what you think about this fic!

word count: 1700

warnings: brief mentions of abuse (Beron)

genre: fluff

masterlist

The cold wind blew Wisteria’s hair into her face as she trudged to the Forest House. She had just left her horse in the stables when the rain started. She frowned, looking down at her dress just to find it completely covered in mud. Wisteria groaned, knocking on the manor’s huge doors, and was met with two guards. “My lady” one of them bowed and she stared at him “Don’t bow to me, Hugo. I’m not High Lady” - that had been a subject Eris could not seem to be able to put down ever since he took over the crown, months ago. But despite their both’s huge efforts to show the citizens of the autumn court that males and females were equal now, the misogyny in the court ran deep. Besides, Wisteria, unlike Eris, was a fighter, a shadow, a spy - not a performer, and the autumn court needed to be ruled by someone with at least somewhat decent social skills, at least according to Wisteria.

She huffed making her way up the stairs.Gods, she’s never been this exhausted. This mission lasted more than a week, longer than any she had been on ever since Eris became High Lord. But the smaller villages still needed help, and she was trying to snuff out what the smaller lords of the counties thought of her lover’s rule.

He had better be home, she thought as she opened up the door to their bedchambers. “Ah there you are” her lover approached her with a small smile “Gods, you look horrible” he stared her up and down “Good to see you too, pumpkin” she mumbled at him and he, as always when she would call him that, huffed in shock at the nickname and clutched a hand to his chest. His hair was a little overgrown, just like Wisteria liked it, and he was wearing a forest green shirt, the first few buttons undone. He gathered up some of the rain drops off her cheek “Good to have you back” he kissed her forehead and made to take the completely soaked through coat off her shoulders. He went to the bathroom to run her a bath as she made her way into their bedroom, where she was met with three of Eris’ ghost hounds. They ran up to her while Wisteria started to take the daggers off herself. “Hello, my little loves, hello” she murmured to them sweetly, petting them. “You know, the view this court has on you would change drastically if they saw how soft you get with them” Eris chuckled from the door “And they’d end up with a dagger in their heart before they even thought about spreading that information around” she replied, not even looking up from her corset, which she had trouble unlacing.

The High Lord was quite right, though. When they met, centuries ago, her - a young girl Beron had acquired to train as spymaster, him - a spoiled princeling, thinking he owned the world, she despised him, and he loved to constantly tease her with all his contrarian shit. That was when their friendship began, but even despite them knowing each other for so long, in the face of Beron’s abuse, Wisteria had put up walls taller than those of the Forest House. Rough at the surface, but as the plans of the former High Lord’s demise were nearing and a vision of peace, at last, began approaching, Eris managed to cut through like a knife.

And they knew each other, better than the stars knew the sky and the moon knew the sun. More than they knew themselves. And they vowed to protect each other’s hearts, at all cost. Even when the whole Prythian thought it knew them - based solely on the sorry masks they put on in front of prying eyes. Their love and the quiet they could give each other in the dark of the night, by the hearth, the devotion in their longing stares during all those grotesque balls - now no longer secret, was enough. No one, except for Eris and Wisteria, knew anything about them, and that provided comfort neither of them had ever dreamed of deserving, accomplishing.

“By the mother I despise this thing” Wisteria huffed and looked up to meet Eris’ russet eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come here and help me” she gestured towards herself, exasperated. He smiled, slightly shaking his head as he walked to her. “Demanding woman” he murmured, standing behind her “Just as you like me” Wisteria replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror in front of them. Eris hummed, placing a light kiss on her shoulder as he started unlacing her bodice. “Why do you keep wearing this if you despise it so much?” “It looks pretty” was his lover’s reply, in a tone as if it was the most obvious matter in the universe. After finishing up with Wisteria’s corset, Eris lowered to his knees in front of her. “Allow me, my love” he said as he took off both of her boots and went to part her mud-covered skirts. He started unstrapping the daggers at her thighs, and she tangled her fingers in the lordling’s hair. He hummed in contentment and for a few moments, the only sounds in the chambers were the flickering of wood in the fireplace and daggers clattering down to the wooden floors. Well, and the uneven breathing of three cheery dogs, now laying around the couple. It seemed that not only Eris and Wisteria could keep up masks to the public, as the hounds were scary and aggressive to any stranger, but would completely switch demeanors when either the High Lord or his spymaster would enter the room.

Wisteria smiled down at her man as he finished up his work. “I missed you, you know” she tugged on his red hair, getting his attention. He looked up at her, his eyes aflame “I know, I missed you too” Eris said, slowly rising from his knees to kiss her face, now ushering her to the bathroom. “Come now, the water will get cold” and as Wisteria started walking, Eris took notice of her slumped shoulders and faltering steps. He took her into his arms, carrying her to the bathing chambers “Touch starved, are we now?” she glared at him “Excuse me, you were gone for a whole week, and I am only a man” he reasoned “You’re excused then, pumpkin” Wisteria chuckled lightly.

At the beginning of their relationship, Eris really despised Wisteria’s missions. But she was running the small group of spies she had gathered for autumn in her centuries as spymaster, and he trusted her. Not only that - his lover was definitely a much better fighter than him, which she would probably always find amusing, but Eris still worried for her. He always would.

He helped her bathe and wash her hair. Taking care of her was something he’d always cherish doing. For so long he didn’t allow himself to care for anyone at all, but Wisteria kept blurring out his periphery, passing by so carelessly as she always would - her presence in a room more noticeable than anyone else’s. For him, at least, that is - for the other courtiers seemed never to notice her, just as she wanted. That, he could never fathom, how someone could just be unaware of her. Her with the thousands of daggers strapped to her body at all times, with her completely inappropriate dresses - for she would usually make them herself and wear the corset on top of the underskirts - a fashion choice she insisted on for centuries. Her with her ability to appear and disappear in front of him during balls, suddenly seen with a goblet of wine or picking her nails with a dagger and the next minute gone, not to be seen until maybe weeks later, her with her unpredictability of going off for her own adventures in the middle of the night or suddenly befriending the bastard Rhysand’s inner circle. Her with her unapproachability and constant frowning that seemed to scare everyone off, but not him, never him. And the way she always knew the right thing to say, on nights where Beron would hurt him particularly badly - Wisteria would find words of comfort that managed to magnificently stitch up his wounds, time and time again. He didn’t think there was ever someone more intelligent than her, not in all of Prythian, not in all of time. He was utterly and completely at the woman’s mercy, and he had absolutely no intention of ever breaking free.

The two made their way into the bedchamber, only to find their hounds splayed on the bed, swinging their tails around happily. Wisteria heard Eris sigh from behind her and chuckled. She made her way under the covers, sitting up in bed to braid her wet hair while Eris threw some more wood into the fire. He soon got in next to her, taking the strands of her dark hair from her and gesturing for her to turn around. He finished braiding it, tying it off with a ribbon. “Thank you, love” she mumbled, throwing herself down into the covers. Eris did not reply, instead gazing down at her form and engulfing her into his arms. The exhaustion from the mission quickly kicked into her as she turned to hide her face in his chest. He smoothed out her hair and kissed her forehead, and soon they both were asleep.

There, in the Forest House, once a place of horror and fear, love and hope for happiness bloomed. They both knew they were safe and sound, as long as they had each other’s arms to find a home in. One of the dogs yawned and wood cracked in the fireplace as a couple still burning candles casted some warm light into the bedroom. Outside, the moon and stars shone down on the manor, as if guarding the couple, protecting their love, the rain pattered onto the windowsills rhythmically and a piece of ivy bloomed on the stone walls of the house.

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris acosf #eris fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #lucien x reader

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azrielsoulmate · 5 months

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hi loves! just wanted to update you all that chapter one of magnificently cursed is about half-way done and i should have it out by Monday! also, i saw some of you saying you wanna be tagged so here’s me letting you know i saw all the notes and i’ll tag u :)

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #rhysand acotar #eris x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x rhysand’s sister

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azrielsoulmate · 6 months

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Magnificently Cursed - Prologue

Azriel x Rhea

(OC and Rhysand’s younger sister)

a/n: hello loves! i’m so sorry for being gone for so long but i hope you’re still willing to read this series of mine! please do let me know what you think about this part, i’m always open to feedback! also, i’m going to try and stay consistent with posting but school is kinda crazy right now so please be considerate of that :) also english isn’t my first language so pls ignore any language mistakes

series summary: Azriel and Rhea are just one of those things, as she always liked to call it. Ever since they met as children, they have been on and off. But with her coming back from under the mountain and a possibility of war, both Az and Rhea are getting impatient, worried for one another. Will this time be their final or is it just another one of their games that will be over all too soon?

word count: 1162

genre: angst

warnings: none!

enjoy!

The kitchen of the small apartment in the center of Velaris seemed oddly like home, as she set the table for dinner. She had made Azriel’s favorite kind of pasta, poured them some red wine and lit up the fireplace. And although Rhea was never much of a cook, she had spent the whole day in the kitchen. Azriel was to come back from one of his shorter missions that day and she had asked him to come to dinner.

Rhea and the shadowsinger were just one of those things, as she liked to call it - but really what they had should definitely not be described like so. Ever since they met, her a seven year old sister to the future high lord of the night court, with a heart still gentle, unmaimed by the cruel hands of the world, him a nine year old boy who had spent his most recent years locked in a dungeon. He had never met someone who was, to put it simply, nice to him - even his friends seemed to find his inability so fly or do certain things amusing. Rhea was the first and only person to protect him, and what a ridiculous sight that must have been, the girl running up to three boys twice her size, flaring out her wings and scolding her older brother and his friend for making fun of him. Azriel’s youth did not stop him from noticing that that very moment, with this very girl would alter something, not only in his mind, but the world altogether, a shift in the air and his heartbeat and his soul which from now on seemed to be at peace only when she was around.

How saddening it was that their roads never seemed to collide and all their last times turned out to be the firsts. Always their hearts were aching for the other, but never could they get themselves to ask the other one to stay. She sometimes wondered if it was his own past shoving her loving hands away, or maybe her own, always telling her to run, not let her bear her heart to anyone else. The world ached with them, burdened with the wait for when the two would find one another the one final time, oh, and they would - everyone was sure of that, but when?

As Rhea searched back through her memory, she really did hope that this would last. No war raging through their minds, or their court for that matter, the timing was perfectly right. But the time was never nice to them, to her, no. And she knew that this would either be their final time together, or it wouldn’t. That was the way things worked for them, she had figured after one of their breakups and for her own, staged, peace of mind started telling herself that she doesn’t care. They either stayed together, or they didn’t.

Her trail of thought was interrupted by the sound of quiet footsteps in the foyer right behind her, the smell of smoke and cool whispers of shadows making their way to tangle into her hair. She turned around to find her Azriel standing before her with disheveled hair and dirty fighting leathers. Without a word he made his way to embrace her and hide his face in the crook of her neck. They stood there in silence for some time before she pulled back and gently brushed back a strand of hair fallen on his forehead, half-expecting his eyes to light up or soften at the gesture, but his expression remained solemn.

“Did something happen?” she inquired, but it was when he didn’t respond for a little while that concern started creeping in “Az-” “We can’t do this anymore” she stared at him as he continued “I’m sorry” he added. The world stopped going round for her at that moment, as if it dropped everything awaiting for the situation to be resolved. The air cooled down despite the burning in the fireplace. “What?” “I just, I can’t do this anymore, Rhea. I cannot lead you on anymore” she just continued looking at him, as if she didn’t know why he was doing this. As if she hadn’t memorized his sorry excuses years ago, all the reasons he had to keep her at arms length - always close but never too close to comfort. Never too close to let her in on his heart’s secrets, the darkest corners of his mind, never too close to show her the places his scars were. Almost as if she didn’t already know, as if she hadn’t had him figured out for four and a half centuries at that point. As if a single look in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrows could not tell her all she had to know, and even as it did now - she could see it all. He was getting defensive, she had almost made it to his heart and he refused to allow that.

She let out a laugh and his eyes narrowed. “I know you, Azriel” she said “This isn’t about that-” “Really, what is it about, then?” His silence was enough of an answer.

She let out another laugh, but couldn’t get herself to say anything more. Maybe because silently she had feared this moment would come again, that he would come bearing another apology, knocking on her door and they would stand before one another, aching. Or maybe it was that she knew what he was doing, because she had done it countless times before herself. It was back and forth with them, really. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this this time” she whispered “I know, my heart, I know” he looked down at her as his shadows embraced them both, smoothing down the two matching scars on her back and around his wings. She breathed out as she asked “Will we ever learn?” “I hope we do”.

Oh, The Mother herself knew they would. But the skeletons in both their closets were starting to cramp up, taking up more and more space, and soon they would run out of it. As he was making his way to the door, the sound of the creaks in the wooden floors memorized by the both of them all too well, seemed grotesque. She brought up a hand to her lips and turned, unable to watch him leave. Azriel however, did look back, his shiny eyes whispering a promise to come back to her, to bring her peace one day, when he was ready. She knew the smell of smoke would linger and that he would crawl back home to her, and he knew he would get the courage to allow her in one day.

What they both did not know though, was that the next time they would see each other would be fifty years later, welcoming a new world, and a few new scars in Rhea’s eyes.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x rhysand’s sister #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acotar series #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader

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azrielsoulmate · 6 months

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hi everyone…

not sure if any of u remember me because i was gone from here for like half a year, but i’m back now! and more ready then ever to come back to my writing ;)

if you do remember me, you might recall the series i talked about posting here, an angst-fluff story about azriel and rhysands sister? anyway, i have the prologue edited and ready to post, and i’ll do it in about an hour or so!

So if you’re interested in reading it PLEASE do let me know and also that you remember who i am ..

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #cassian acosf #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction

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azrielsoulmate · 6 months

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this is the best thing i’ve seen. ever.

elain: *struggling to undo her corset*

lucien “professional bodice ripper” vanserra waking up in a cold sweat: somethings wrong.

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azrielsoulmate · 9 months

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azrielsoulmate · 9 months

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this is absolutely amazing i cannot do this 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, find the specific part in the soundtrack to play over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my swords and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one´s belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier´s throat, I turned around, a gust of wind sending a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the begin of the battle had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defense seemed to be close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and bloodred eyes. The rest of the Illyrians were fighting side by side with Fae warriors on the ground, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from north, like a never ending stream of monsterous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements, soon, we were screwed.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one of the beast´s throat and looked over my shoulder, my heart rose in a wild flutter.

Az kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulders, his dark hair soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his hand and Truthteller in his other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another´s blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I´m a little busy at the moment!” Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart falling out of rhythm when Az appeared right in front of me, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his leathers as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can´t wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn´t moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest, because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as Az rammed his daggers into another one´s chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around another one´s throat.

“I really don´t think now´s the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice rise almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel´s deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I spun around, sword flying down on a soldier´s neck and sending blood spattering. A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel´s chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows and me sliding past him and throwing one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, flying at us, the weapon sinking into its side and causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Az broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on a soldier´s back.

“Are you sure this can´t wait?!”, I yelled, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me.

Az stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him, shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I slammed my swords down into his back with an angry sound, then I raised my head while my heart thrummed and adrenaline rushed through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before it vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel´s deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

Something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged the next blow, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier´s throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved and ducked, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier´s lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle, but it felt far away, because I could feel Azriel´s body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Az pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Az dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast, shadows wrapping around me and pulling me back, and Az slit a soldier´s throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier´s throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you´re telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me out of a beasts reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blade catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier´s chest, then I whirled around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me, so close I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn´t shout, one corner of his lips quirked almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he said hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips opened, but then Azriel´s eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw Az a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Az dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “It´s always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier´s necks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it´s you.” Even though Azriel´s voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the moment I met you, there was something about you, something that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier! Where I didn´t have to hide anything!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow. “And it scares the fuck out of me, but I don´t care!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You´re it, darling.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel´s jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier´s throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn´t feel the same!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn´t feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt. “Of course I do!”

Azriel´s head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Az stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darknesd wrapped around him, and hr appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a desperate, messy kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips agape and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel´s eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Az pulled me out of the way, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier´s stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly begin to unravel as the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn´t seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Az!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier´s head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine. My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above, and suddenly I knew he felt it, maybe not the bond vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart, but that he knew.

Az blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow, then he shouted, his deep voice causing my breath to flutter: “Gwyn!” My breath hitched, and his eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I´m a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing at one of the gryphons her winged horse barely managed to swerve around.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and she must´ve heard, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it´s your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier´s chest and sent him backwards, and when I turned around, Az was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we´re gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a chicken!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Az pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my sword down onto the right one´s hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Az called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast´s snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when he spun me around, my heart rising into my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun, and something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the swoosh of a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Az growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel´s outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Az pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier´s stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier´s throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel´s grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of a soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Az nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel´s grip tightened. I knew he felt it too, the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn´s voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Az and I dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel´s hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast´s claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped, Azriel pulled me around, and his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder; I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me. Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperately, and Azriel´s tongue slid into my mouth, a deep sound rumbling in his throat as his grip around me tightened and he kissed me like it was the first and the last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminded me we were in a literal battlefield and that the world was close to ending.

Az pulled me up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, then he raised his head, and I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipping high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let´s finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel´s arm slipped away from my waist, golden eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this, but I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre´s arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tides, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that not even knowing all my friends, my family was alright; exhausted and strained and with a few scratches but alive, couldn´t fully brush away.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I could have fallen asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Az came towards me. Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine. He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Az huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance. Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired, but something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It´s called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest. Azriel´s eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest, and Azriel´s gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel´s lips rose, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine. He dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Az tilted my head to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel´s other hand slipped to the back of my neck, fingers gently tangling in my hair, his thumb brushing over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel´s lips curved up against mine, then he pulled back slowly, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I did as much to him as he did to me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel´s gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his other hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

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