#*acosf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sirenpearldust · 2 days

Text

Pearl

Part 1 part 2

Pair: Eris x Reader

Word count: 2.599

Warnings: mentions of cheating, fertility issues, insecure thoughts

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As months slipped by without conception, your mind wandered to the idea of a baby. You found yourself daydreaming about your future baby, wondering if they would inherit your traits or resemble Eris.

Maybe your future child would be a perfect blend of both of you, or a mirror image of Eris with his luscious locks, mischievous amber eyes accented by long, dark lashes, and his straight nose.

You hoped your child would resemble your wonderful husband, with his charming laugh, his thoughtful frown, and all the beauty he possessed.

As you stood before the mirror, you gazed at your belly, imagining it swollen with pregnancy.

Your mind wandered to your child laughing, giggling, and cooing with joy, happiness radiating from their bright eyes.

You felt stressed as numerous people, especially Beron, exerted pressure on you. However, Eris remained your source of comfort, always sweet and wiping your tears, soothing you whenever the healer delivered the disappointing news of another unsuccessful conception.

Eris concealed his relief upon learning of the unsuccessful attempt, careful not to show you his true emotions. Despite this, his desire to fulfill your every wish remained strong, understanding that the timing had to be right for both you and your future heir's safety.

He saw you trying everything—from taking long walks with his mother to eating healthier, experimenting with various fertility teas, and praying.

Despite trying everything, nothing seemed to help. He witnessed your tears and mourning, understanding your sense of shame for not fulfilling what you saw as your only duty.

Eris, feeling responsible for your anguish, was ashamed, as he was at fault making you feel this way.

To help you relax and ease the strain on your body, Beron ordered that you be sent to your parents' house. The Lady of Autumn spoke with Beron, suggesting that a vacation could alleviate your stress and potentially increase your chances of conceiving.

• •

Being at your parents' house proved to be truly relaxing. The familiar surroundings provided comfort, surrounded by your loved ones. You spent time chatting with your sisters and reconnecting with friends you hadn't seen in a while.

Enjoying tea and playing cards together, the conversations and laughter helped you forget all of your worries.

In your childhood home, you were surrounded by laughter and joy, you felt whole and content.

It was a stark contrast to the tension and loneliness you experienced in the forest house, where rivalry, scheming, and jealousy were ever-present.

There, in the forest house, you always felt on edge, but here, in the comforting embrace of your childhood home, the atmosphere was vibrant and carefree.

The air was filled with the joyful laughter of children, and the warmth of your friends' companion enveloped you, easing away any lingering worries you had.

You couldn't help but wish for your child to grow up in such an environment. Perhaps not falling pregnant right now wasn't the worst outcome after all, you sadly mused.

Today, the weather was warm, carrying the scent of the black tea your mother brewed and the cherry cake your sister baked earlier.

Laughter echoed through the garden where you sat, accompanied by the sweet singing of the birds.

The sun shone just right, casting a gentle glow, and overall, the atmosphere was calm and serene.

The atmosphere was abruptly disturbed by your friend's gasp as she remembered something important.

"Oh my, I almost forgot to tell you what happened to Cassandra, you all remember her, right?" she exclaimed, her shock evident as she jumped in her seat.

"Her husband had been cheating on her, and despite her attempts to have a second child with him, he remained loyal to his mistress.

To prevent any illegitimate children with her, he resorted to using a tonic, it hindered any chance of pregnancy. Apparently it is also illegal to use.

Cassandra's father found out, killed the mistress and punished her husband by law."

"I don't know what happened exactly, but Charles now has a scar across his face," another friend chimed in.

"And lately, he's been sticking close to Cassandra when they are at gatherings. Apparently the punishment he faced was only halted because she intervened and saved him from her father. Since then, he's been keeping in line."

"That was well deserved," your mother chimed in, sipping on her tea with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

As you listened, doubts began to creep into your mind.

Maybe someone had tampered with your tea. However, your handmaids assured you that they hadn't seen anyone interfere with your food or beverages.

Every step of the preparation process, from the ingredients to the serving, had been strictly monitored.

Despite the numerous intimate sessions with Eris each day, it seemed impossible that there could be an issue with fertility.

However, hearing the conversation about Cassandra's situation sparked a troubling thought: what if the problem lay with Eris? Could he be infertile?

The notion of him using a tonic seemed absurd, and the thought of him resorting to such measures was too cruel to contemplate.

He had wiped away your tears and shielded you from harm, from the rumours, the nasty glances directed at you.

You couldn’t entertain such a devastating possibility—betrayal from him would be unimaginable.

He talked to you about the names he had chosen and the colors he envisioned for the baby's room. Every time you talked about your future child he was happy, excited to help choosing the clothes and how he would play with him or her. He didn’t care if it was a girl or a boy.

You both had laid in bed one night, when he confessed his hope that the child would resemble you. He had held you close, your fingers were intertwined, his head on your chest, he wished that your child would inherit your eyes and your smile.

He wouldn’t cheat on you, no he wouldn’t. Not Eris, never him, right?

You obviously would never openly accuse Eris of such a horrendous act or him using the tonic.

Accusing the heir could result in dire consequences, you would be risking your life and insulting the Vanserra family to which you still didn't fully belong to.

You understood that full acceptance into the family would only come with the birth of his heir.

For now, you felt more like a placeholder, knowing that if nothing worked, you could easily be replaced by a new wife.

• •

The evening neared its end and your friends departed, your family prepared for bed.

Quietly, you made your way to your father's office, seeking help to calm your nerves before you also joined dreamland.

In the cold hallway leading to his office, you closed the window, the chill dissipating.

Taking a moment to glance at your reflection, you noticed your hair cascading loosely around your shoulders, and your nightgown, a deep red with golden accents, gave you a regal air.

Compared to a week ago, you looked healthier, your cheeks now filled out.

Gazing past your reflection, you turned your attention to the sky, silently praying and hoping that your father held the answers you needed.

Approaching the grand oak door adorned with golden leaves, you knocked twice.

"Come in," your father's voice called from within.

Upon entering, you found him engrossed in his papers, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The office carried the aroma of black coffee and biscuits.

Closing the door behind you, you stood before him, clearing your throat to gain his attention.

"Father, have you heard about what happened to Cassandra?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face in frustration before replying angrily, " Good evening to you too. Yes, but I prefer not to indulge in gossip or spread it myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's not about the gossip itself, but about the tonic," you clarified.

His eyes widened in surprise as you quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to brew it myself. I'm just curious why it's outlawed and what it consists of."

Reassured, he sighed and admitted, "There is a book in the library somewhere. I forgot the title of it." With a smile, you bid him goodnight and wished him a restful sleep. "Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied before you left.

As you walked towards the library, a peculiar sensation stirred in your belly, akin to butterflies fluttering about. Nervousness and a certain cold crept over you, you had a sudden urge to relieve yourself.

As you walked into the library, you skimmed through the books, spending about two hours in the healing section.

Along the search for the specific book, you stumbled upon some intriguing ones that you planned to read later.

Eventually, you found a small black book titled "Outlawed." Within its pages, you discovered a chapter detailing the forbidden tonic.

It described how the tonic could hinder any pregnancy without causing infertility, with a minty scent and a taste like honey.

You stopped breathing, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave.

Eris used to drink a similar concoction in his office every morning—minty and tasting just like honey, just as described in the book.

You remembered how he once swiftly took the drink out of your hand after you had a sip, warning that it wouldn't be safe for a woman.

At the time, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, everything pointed to your husband being the one who used the forbidden tonic. Tears streamed down your face as you realized his betrayal.

You sobbed, as your mind raced through the events of the past few months.

You remembered how Eris had taken care of you, reassuring you that you weren't at fault for the failed conceptions. You went through every moment you had with him, his reaction, how he didn't mourn.

Now, you saw the deception clearly, realizing what a fool you had been to fall for his lies.

He had truly lived up to his name—the cruel prince of autumn.

You never anticipated that you would become a pawn in his schemes.

Questions swirled in your mind. Did he, like Charles, have another woman by his side?

Was he in love with someone else?

Jealousy gnawed at you. Why couldn't he confide in you? After all, you were friends before you were married.

Feelings of stupidity washed over you. Why did you even care now? He had lied to you, and he was probably involved with another woman. There wouldn't be any other reason to use the cursed tonic, right.

Why? Why? Why?

Why would he do it?

• •

You cried the whole night, your eyes swollen and bloodshot red by morning.

Your back ached from falling asleep in the library, and you felt chilled to the bone. Your heart raced with anxiety as you glamoured yourself to avoid questions from your family.

As you dressed and looked into the mirror, doubt crept in.

Were you truly beautiful and put together, or were you actually ugly? Worries plagued your mind—perhaps you were too clingy, or maybe you simply weren't his type.

Did he even find you attractive at all?

You forced a smile as you gazed at your reflection, but your eyes appeared lifeless, devoid of their usual sparkle. No amount of glamouring could mask the emptiness within. Tears welled up, but you quickly wiped them away.

With a frustrated huff, you adjusted your clothing, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you headed downstairs.

The tearful goodbyes were exchanged as you hugged everyone farewell.

Standing outside the manor, you waved goodbye to your family before winnowing away.

• •

You arrived in your room after being attended to by the maids, your personal attendants taking charge of your bag.

Finding yourself alone, Eris was nowhere to be found, but he had left flowers on the vanity along with a letter.

Opening it, you read his words:

Hello, Beautiful.

I hope you enjoyed your time with your family. I have missed you dearly I hope you have missed me too.

It was quite lonely without you. I’m blessed to have you. Without you I am not complete nor at peace.

I promise to give you the life you've always wanted and to provide for you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin 'till death do us part. So don’t ever worry about anything else.

Sadly we will need to join dinner today as my Father has invited us.

Please tell me everything you experienced, what you’ve baked, eaten, played and read.

I also have planned a surprise for you (;

Yours truly, Eris.

You crumpled the letter in your hand, before burning it with a flicker of magic. It would have been sweet if you hadn’t known him to be a liar.

Erecting a barrier around the room to ensure privacy, you screamed and cried out your frustration until your throat grew hoarse and your eyes were dry. Once you stopped, you undressed yourself, feeling the need to wash away the disgust you felt from letting him touch you. A soothing bath would probably help.

• •

Out of the bath, you called for Erica and Grace. Seated at the vanity, Erica dried your hair while Grace selected jewelry for you, presenting it. Today, you decided on wearing a mauve dress, as you were in no mood for vibrant colors like red or orange. Frankly, orange made you look terrible, and you weren't in the mood to deal with that today.

They both appeared nervous, avoiding your gaze as you smiled at them. Sensing their unease, you asked, "What's wrong, girls?"

"Nothing, my lady," Erica replied, but before Grace could answer, you noticed her hesitation.

"We don't want to upset you before dinner," Grace added, her voice faltering.

Your smile faltered as well, a nervous feeling creeping over you.

Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed that something was amiss.

"I would rather know than be kept in the dark," you insisted, turning towards them.

They exchanged a hesitant glance before Erica spoke up quietly, "We have seen the prince meeting with a woman on the days your ladyship was away."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a tight smile and urged them to continue. "Go on," you said, encouraging them.

"The woman doesn’t work here, and we tried to find out more about her, but we’ve found nothing," Erica explained.

"Don’t worry, she's not pretty. You are prettier than her," Grace added quickly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark.

"She's charming enough to keep my husband occupied," you said wryly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

"Tell me everything you know," you demanded, your voice steady despite the rage burning within you.

"She's a blonde and quite tall, with red eyes," Erica began, and Grace nodded in agreement.

"They also seem to be close. Every time we saw them, they were closely huddled together," Erica continued.

"They would whisper, but we didn't see them being intimate or kiss. They mostly met in the forest or inside the stables," Grace added, her voice tinged with concern.

Meeting a woman in secret usually hinted at an affair behind one's wife's back.

"Alright, please keep an eye on them, but don't put yourselves in danger. If Eris finds out, tell him that I, as his wife, had ordered you two to keep an eye on him. If he asks why, tell him he should confront me, as it is our business," you instructed firmly. Both Erica and Grace nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

You stood up, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, and forced a smile at them.

At least now you knew the truth: he had used the tonic, used you for pleasure, lied, cheated, and deceived you. The realization made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to take a bath again and scrub your skin.

You knew you had to get out of this situation, whether dead or alive, though preferably alive. Perhaps you could even stage your own death to escape his grasp once and for all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

138 notes · View notes

dee-writes-smut · 2 days

Text

FALL

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY after falling down a flight of stairs, you are forced to realize that you aren't alone and that it's time to start healing.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, nosy Rhys, Amren (she's a warning), and injuries

AUTHORS NOTE I kind of hate this a lot, but here is the third part of the Season's series, Fall. Hope you enjoy! <3

Autumn descends upon the world like a tender-hearted healer, enveloping all in its embrace of warmth and renewal. The air takes on a crisp clarity, carrying with it the subtle scent of earth and fallen leaves, a fragrance that whispers of new beginnings. Trees, once adorned in the lush greens of summer, now don their autumnal attire, each leaf a masterpiece of vibrant hues—amber, crimson, and gold—painting the landscape in a tapestry of healing colors.

As daylight wanes, the sun bathes the world in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows that dance gracefully upon the earth. The breeze, gentle yet invigorating, rustles through the trees, a comforting melody that speaks of resilience and growth. With each step, fallen leaves crinkle beneath our feet, a soothing reminder of the cycle of life and the beauty found in letting go.

In the fall, nature herself undergoes a profound transformation, shedding the old to make way for the new. Trees release their leaves in a graceful dance of surrender, preparing for a period of rest and rejuvenation. Yet, even in this quietude, there is a vibrant energy that pulses through the air, a reminder that healing is not a passive act, but a journey of growth and renewal.

As I found myself immersing in the healing embrace of autumn, I was invited to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the beauty of transformation. Like the earth itself, I was reminded of my innate capacity to heal, to grow, and to emerge stronger and more vibrant than before. In the gentle caress of the autumn breeze, I found solace, strength, and the promise of new beginnings.

(Early September, House of Wind)

Morning light spilled through the windows of the House of Wind, painting the stairwell in hues of gold and amber. Each step I took down the winding staircase echoed softly, the sound muffled by the quiet of the early hour. Shadows danced along the walls, elongated and wavering, as if unsure of their own existence in the gentle glow of dawn.

As I descended, a flicker of movement caught my eye—a subtle shift in the darkness that should not have been there. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to look, dread coiling in the pit of my stomach. The shadows seemed to solidify, taking shape in the form of a figure I knew all too well. It was Lyris, his smirk cruel and taunting, his blade gleaming with malice in the dim light.

Panic surged through me, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn't real, I told myself, but the terror it invoked was. Before I could react, before I could rationalize, my foot missed the next step. There was no time to regain my balance, no wings to unfurl and catch me. I reached out desperately, fingers grasping for the banister, but it was too late.

The world tilted violently as I fell, the sharp pain of impact shooting up my spine as I collided with the unforgiving stairs. Each jolt sent waves of agony coursing through me, my body bouncing helplessly until I finally came to a crumpled stop at the bottom of the staircase. Dazed and disoriented, I tried to gather my bearings, the pain a sharp, throbbing ache in every limb.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder with each passing second. Then, Azriel was there, his face a mask of concern as he knelt beside me. "Don't move," he said softly, his hands hovering over me with a hesitant touch. "We need to get you to the healer."

"I'm okay," I lied, attempting to push myself up despite the searing pain that shot through me. The room spun sickeningly, and I winced, sinking back down with a pained gasp.

"No, you're not," Azriel insisted, his voice firm but gentle. He assessed me quickly, his expression grave. "We need to get you off these stairs. Can you stand?"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, frustration and pain mingling into a bitter concoction. "I don't… I can't…" I faltered, unable to voice the depth of my vulnerability.

"It's okay. I've got you." Azriel's arms enveloped me, lifting me gently from the cold, hard floor. I buried my face against his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat amidst the chaos of my own.

As we moved, the memory of the fall replayed in my mind—the hallucination of Lyris, the terror of losing my footing. I had lost more than just my wings that day; I had lost a piece of myself. How was I supposed to heal when my own mind betrayed me with such vivid, haunting illusions?

Azriel's presence was a silent promise of protection, his concern a soothing balm to my fractured psyche. I clung to it, to him, as we made our way to the healer's chambers, the shadows of the stairwell receding into the background as we stepped into the light of a new day. I would allow myself to let him seep in my darkness for a moment. I would be selfish for just this moment and then it would be back to struggling alone, to protecting them, him.

Madja's room was filled with the subtle scent of lavender and sage, a calming ambiance that did little to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. The healer's hands were warm and gentle as she applied salves to the bruises that marbled my skin, her touch careful around the tender areas where my wings once were.

"You're healing well physically," Madja said softly, her voice soothing. "But healing the mind… that takes time, and often more than just my skills." She offered me a small, understanding smile, though her eyes were stern, hinting at the depth of her concern.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, shadows swirling slightly at his feet—a sure sign of his inner turmoil. Madja excused herself with a knowing look, leaving us alone.

I shifted on the cot, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I faced him. "Azriel," I began, but my voice cracked, betraying my nervousness.

He moved closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. Stopping at the edge of the cot, he knelt so he was eye level with me, his gaze intense. "I've been patient," he said, his voice low and strained. "I've given you space, but we can't keep avoiding this conversation."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "I don't know if I'm ready," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel reached out, his hand hesitating in the air before gently brushing a stray hair back from my face. "I know you're hurting. And I know I can't understand everything you're going through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to go through this alone."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away furiously. "It's not just the pain, Azriel. It's the fear," I confessed, the words tumbling out. "Every shadow, every noise—it takes me back to that moment. And I feel so powerless."

His expression softened, the shadows receding slightly as if in response to my distress. "I wish I could take that fear away," he murmured. "But since I can't, I'll stand with you against it. Every step of the way, until you feel strong again."

"How do you do it?" I asked, searching his face. "How do you live with your own shadows?"

A sad smile tugged at his lips. "By knowing which shadows are mine to control, and which are simply part of the world. And by having people I love to light the way when it gets too dark."

"What if I'm not strong enough?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. Despite my efforts to steel myself against the pain, I couldn't help but curl into myself, feeling small and vulnerable in the face of my own fears. "What if I never get over this and—" I choked back my tears once more, the fear gnawing at my insides too overwhelming to voice aloud.

Azriel's heart clenched at my words, the rawness of my pain mirroring his own. With aching tenderness, he reached out, his hand hovering over mine, a silent beacon of comfort in the darkness. "You are strong," he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. "Stronger than you realize. But even the strongest among us have moments of doubt, moments when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear."

My eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, sought solace in his unwavering gaze. "And if you never get over this… if the shadows linger longer than you'd like, know that you are not alone. We'll face them together, every step of the way."

The weight of my fear trembled through my shoulders; the depth of my anguish palpable in the air. "But what if I pull you all into it too?" I whispered, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "What if my darkness becomes yours?"

Azriel's heart ached at the thought, but he refused to let me drown in my despair. "Your darkness is not a burden," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "It's a part of you, just as much as your light. And I would walk through the darkest of nights if it meant I could stand beside you."

He reached for my hand, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring me to the present moment. "Let me help you carry this weight," he urged, his eyes locking with mine. "Let us carry it together."

For a moment, there was only silence—a heavy, pregnant pause that hung between us, charged with unspoken emotions. And then, with a shaky breath, I nodded, my grip tightening around his hand as if anchoring myself to his steadfast presence.

In that moment, as we sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Madja's room, surrounded by the gentle scent of herbs and healing, Azriel felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. No matter how dark the path ahead, no matter how daunting the shadows that loomed on the horizon, we would face them together. And with love as our guiding light, we would find our way back to the warmth of the sun.

(Mid-October, River House)

The air in the room seemed to hold its breath as I gathered the courage to speak, surrounded by the Inner Circle whose presence felt both comforting and daunting. Cassian's warm gaze, Nesta's softened expression, Rhys and Feyre's silent solidarity, Amren's unreadable yet somehow reassuring presence, and Mor's gentle smile—all of them were a testament to the depth of their care.

With Azriel standing at my side, his silent support a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions, I began to speak. My voice, though laced with uncertainty, carried the weight of my sincerity as I addressed them.

"I want to apologize," I began, each word heavy with meaning as I met their eyes, one by one. "For the distance I've kept, for the walls I've built around myself. I've been… cold, and for that, I'm truly sorry.

A hushed tension hung in the air, anticipation mingling with apprehension as they waited for me to continue. But instead of judgment or reproach, I found only understanding in their expressions—compassion and empathy reflected in their unwavering gazes.

"I'm ready to try," I confessed, the admission a revelation in itself. "To try again.. To heal."

Cassian's hand found mine, his touch grounding and reassuring as he squeezed gently. "We're here for you," he declared, his voice a solemn vow. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

Nesta's usually sharp gaze softened, her features etched with genuine concern. "We've missed you," she admitted, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "But we understand. And we'll stand by you, no matter what."

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a silent glance, their unity a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty. "You're not alone," Rhys affirmed, his voice steady and resolute. "We'll face this together, as a family."

Amren nodded curtly, her demeanor as inscrutable as ever, yet there was a glimmer of warmth in her eyes that spoke volumes. "Don't make a habit of apologizing," she quipped dryly, a subtle reassurance in her words.

Mor's smile was gentle, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. "We love you," she said simply, her words a promise of unwavering support.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I absorbed their words, the weight of their acceptance washing over me like a tidal wave. In that moment, surrounded by the love and understanding of my chosen family, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for me yet.

With Azriel's hand firmly clasped in mine, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the arduous journey ahead. It wouldn't be easy, and the road to recovery would be fraught with challenges. But with the unwavering support of those who loved me, I knew I could face whatever lay ahead.

Night after night, the nightmares clawed their way into my sleep, tearing through the fragile fabric of my dreams with merciless intensity. Each time, I would wake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in my chest, lungs gasping for air as if I'd been drowning in the darkness of my own mind.

Azriel had been there from the beginning, his quiet presence a steadfast anchor in the storm of my nightmares. At first, he would come at the sound of my screams, offering comfort and reassurance until the tremors subsided and sleep reclaimed me once more. But as the nights stretched on and the nightmares showed no signs of abating, his visits became more frequent, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-shifting landscape of my dreams.

I would wake to find him sitting beside my bed, his gaze watchful and protective as he kept vigil over my troubled sleep. His presence was a balm to my fractured mind, a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume me.

At first, I protested his presence, insisting that he had better things to do than waste his nights sitting by my bedside. But he brushed off my protests with a quiet determination, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that spoke volumes. He didn't need words to convey the truth—that he would stay for as long as I needed him, no matter the cost.

And so, night after night, I would wake to find him there, his presence a silent reassurance that I was not alone in my suffering. With each passing night, his visits became longer, his presence more palpable until it felt as though he had practically moved into my room.

I would wake to the soft sound of his breathing, the warmth of his presence a comforting weight beside me. His steady heartbeat echoed in the silence of the night, a rhythmic cadence that anchored me to the present moment.

In those quiet hours before dawn, with the weight of his presence beside me, I found solace in the knowledge that I was not alone. No matter how dark the night, no matter how terrifying the nightmares that plagued my sleep, Azriel was there, a silent guardian watching over me until the first light of dawn chased the shadows away. And for that, I was endlessly grateful.

(Late October, River House)

As Azriel sat across from Rhysand, the weight of the conversation about you felt even heavier upon his shoulders. His mind flickered back to the recent events—the trauma you had endured, the pain etched into your every expression, and the way you had leaned on him for support during your darkest moments.

"I've noticed the way you look at her, Az," Rhys's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "And I can't help but wonder… Are you two… a thing?"

Azriel's gaze softened with a mix of fondness and concern as he thought of you. "I… I care about her deeply," he confessed quietly, his voice tinged with emotion. "Especially now, after everything she's been through."

Rhys nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. "I know you've been by her side through it all, Az. And I'm grateful for that. How is she holding up?"

The concern in Rhys's voice mirrored Azriel's own worries. Your recovery had been slow and arduous, marked by moments of progress followed by setbacks. Azriel had been there every step of the way, offering his support and comfort whenever you needed it most.

"She's… she's trying her best," Azriel replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the kidnapping still weighs heavily on her. Some days are better than others."

Rhys reached out a hand, placing it reassuringly on Azriel's shoulder. "You're doing everything you can for her, Az. And she knows that. Just keep being there for her, okay?"

Azriel nodded, gratitude swelling within him for Rhys's words of encouragement. Despite the challenges they faced, he was determined to stand by your side, offering you whatever solace and support he could provide.

As they parted ways, Azriel's thoughts remained with you—the strength you had shown in the face of adversity, the resilience that burned bright within you. And though he knew that your path to recovery would be a long and difficult one, he vowed to walk it with you every step of the way, for you had become more than just someone he cared about—you were his guiding light in the darkness, his reason to hope for a brighter tomorrow.

(Late November, Velaris)

Stepping beyond the familiar walls of the House of Wind felt like a liberation, a triumph over the shadows that had threatened to consume me. As I walked alongside Feyre and Mor, the streets of Velaris buzzed with life, each step forward a testament to the strength I had found within myself.

Beside me, Azriel's concern was evident, his worry etched in the furrow of his brow and the gentle pressure of his hand in mine. But this time, I was determined to show him—and myself—that I was stronger than the nightmares that haunted me.

"Don't worry, Az," I said with a reassuring smile, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for this. Feyre and Mor are with me."

Feyre and Mor nodded in agreement; their expressions filled with confidence. "We've got your back," Feyre said with a reassuring smile. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Their words filled me with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this journey. With their support, I felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As we walked through the bustling streets of Velaris, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through me. The sun warmed my skin, the wind tousled my hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt truly alive.

But amidst the excitement, a part of me couldn't shake the worry that lingered in Azriel's eyes. I knew he cared about me deeply, and the thought of causing him any more pain weighed heavily on my heart.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked quietly, his concern palpable. "We can turn back if you're not feeling well."

I met his gaze with determination, my resolve unwavering. "I'm more than ready, Az," I replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I've spent too long hiding away. It's time for me to start living again."

[PREVIOUS]

143 notes · View notes

foxylady13 · 3 days

Text

SJM Interview and My Thoughts

Court of Maas has a transcript up of one of Sarah J Maas's interviews. There was some things I found very interesting from it.

Let's start with this one:

The "meeting a character and just knowing that they're the next story" screams Gwyn to me. Why? Because she was a new character that was introduced and Sarah had to meet. And Gwyn herself has lines in ACOSF that hint at more to come with her story (and Emeries)

“You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh. Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

Also, Sarah's answer on the question if we'll get an Elain POV in the next book was met with "we'll see Elain in some form" which to me implies she's more than likely not the main character & that just adds to my previous statement.

Next we have this:

"She realized she wanted to write men who will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being 'the hero' themselves"

That screams like Azriel and Elain are a no go since we know Azriel likes being the hero when it comes to her. Just look at him going to Hybern Camp with Feyre to try to play hero... or what about in ACOSF when Cassian talks about Elain being captured and this is what was said by Azriel:

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."

Azriel is "the hero" and will always insist that way with Elain. He's not the one for Elain.

But you know the pairings where the men will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being the hero for their partners? Gwynriel and Elucien.

We already see this with Azriel and Gwyn. He couldn't be the hero for Gwyn when she went into the Blood Rite because of the laws even Rhysand couldn't break. He even tells Cassian they trained them well and to trust in that training.

“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”

The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

Also, here are even some ideas of them doing things together that fit with their pairings:

Elucien

Traveling to different courts & explore the world together. Hosting parties and being politically savvy.

Gardening - I actually have a commission of this I'll post soon 🤭

Cooking/Baking - Lucien will want to help Elain and it's something I can see then enjoying doing together given their personalities.

Gwynriel

Spy missions. Training. Singing.

Research in the library for universe theories or general reading & just imagine them sitting up in bed together reading passages to one another, analyzing them, theorizing. Thank you @alex-catlady for this one!

Flying - Gwyn on a Pegasus and Azriel flying beside her. Maybe even making into a race for a little competition? Azriel flying with Gwyn in his arms.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #elucien #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acosf #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #anti e/riel #lucien x elain #elain x lucien #azriel and gwyn

96 notes · View notes

chichikoi · 3 days

Text

hiraeth(II).

part I. synopsis: she watches as cassian falls for another (...or does he?) grappling with her own hidden affections and their newly snapped mating bond in the process. pairing: cassian x fem!reader fandom: a court of thorns and roses genre: angst warnings: alcohol mention. a/n: 1.7k words! so... theres gonna be a part 3. i thought this would be it but... apparently not! yup, part two is... still angst. yes, i have started writing part 3. yes, its going to have a fluffy ending. meddle about, because he's totally chase atlantic coded.

Cassian woke with a start, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the realization hit him like a brick, as something tugged at him. Panic seized him, his mind reeling with the implications of what had just occurred. He stumbled out of the couch, careful not to disturb her slumber with his thoughts in turmoil, and made his way out of the House of Wind in a frantic daze.

With each step, the weight of centuries, centuries of unspoken feelings crashed down upon him, threatening to suffocate him with its intensity. He had loved her for so long, kept his feelings hidden deep within his heart, never daring to hope that she might feel the same.

–

The sparring ring buzzed with energy as she and Cassian circled each other, their movements fluid and precise. Cassian's muscles rippled as he lunged forward, his siphons blaring in the dim light, as she parried his blow effortlessly, her movements graceful yet calculated.

They danced across the training hall, their blades clashing in a deadly symphony. Cassian's attacks became more relentless, his desperation palpable, and she found herself struggling to keep up. She parried and dodged, her movements growing more frantic as she sought to break through Cassian's offensive onslaught.

Cassian found himself pushing harder, driving himself to the brink as his movements became more aggressive, more forceful, fueled by a primal instinct he couldn't control. She fought back with equal ferocity, but her struggle to keep up with him was evident. Cassian could see the strain etched on her face, the way her muscles trembled under the force of his blows.

Seizing the opening, Cassian pressed his advantage, his attacks growing more relentless. She found herself on the defensive, her steps quickening as she struggled to keep up with the sudden onslaught. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face, the tension coiling in the space between them.

Finally, with a sudden burst of speed, She feinted to the left, then struck with lightning precision, her sword whistling through the air towards Cassian's exposed flank. “C- Cassian-'' she called out, her voice reverberating through her chest with a note of urgency. But it was Azriel's booming voice that cut through the tension like a blade. "Cassian, enough!" he called out, his tone firm and commanding.

She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise and confusion as she found herself trapped, her sword clattering to the ground. Cassian's gaze bore into her, his breathing ragged, and for a heartbeat, She saw a flicker of something primal and raw in his expression – a fierce, almost animalistic need to – harm her?

Cassian froze, his siphons stilling in the air, his chest heaving with exertion. He saw the concern etched on Azriel's face, the silent plea in his eyes.

Cassian’s gaze flickered to her, breathing ragged and her body trembling from the strain. He saw the fear flash in her eyes, as realization dawned on him that he had gone too far.

Tension hung heavy in the air, the silence broken only by the sound of their labored breathing. Slowly, Cassian released his grip, his hand falling limply to his side. He averted his gaze, his features etched with shame and guilt, as if he had committed some unforgivable transgression. She stood there, her heart pounding, her mind racing to make sense of what had just transpired. She had known Cassian for years, had fought by his side in countless battles, and yet she had never seen him react this way – with such raw, unbridled emotion.

Tentatively, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Cassian?" she murmured, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Cassian flinched at her touch, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. "I… I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something came over me, and I couldn't…" He trailed off, his gaze fixed on the ground, his features a mask of anguish.

Her brows furrowed, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of Cassian's uncharacteristic behavior. She had always admired his unwavering strength and composure, his ability to remain calm and centered even in the midst of the fiercest battles. To see him so unraveled, so vulnerable… Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. "Talk to me, Cass." she urged, her voice soft and soothing. Tentative.

Without a word, he turned and left the ring, his footsteps heavy. Azriel followed close behind, his anger palpable as they made their way through the bustling streets of Velaris. The usually lively sounds of the city faded into the background, replaced by the heavy silence that hung between them. Cassian's jaw was set, his gaze fixed ahead as he wrestled with his emotions, visible in the rigid set of his shoulders.

–

The familiar warmth of the tavern buzzed in the air, as Azriel's gaze bore into Cassian.

“She's my mate,” he confessed to Azriel, his voice raw with emotion. “She's my mate.” Each word reverberated through the silence with an intensity that belied its softness. "She's my mate.”

Azriel sat there, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "It's about time." Azriel said, his voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

But before Cassian could respond, a sudden intrusion disrupted the moment. Rhysand's voice echoed through their mental shields, knocking on the barriers of their minds – quiet, inquiring.

Perfect timing.

–

As she pushed open the tavern door, Cassian's world tilted on its axis as he felt the air shift. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her sauntering frame, couldn't ignore the pull drawing him towards her, like a moth to a flame. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating every curve and dip of her body. It was like something out of a dream, something he never thought he'd see in real life.

He wanted to tear her clothes off right then and there, to feel her skin against his, to lose himself in her. But he knew he couldn't. Not here, not now. There were too many eyes on them, too many prying ears ready to catch even the faintest whisper of scandal.

He tried to focus on his conversation with Azriel, tried to drown out the overwhelming voice in his head that screamed her name, but it was futile. His eyes wandered back to her, drinking in every detail as if he were seeing her for the first time. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him, a primal need to claim her as his own. The music, the laughter, the world itself – ceased to exist until there was nothing but her. She was a vision, a goddess, even amongst immortals, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

–

Mor's movements were like poetry in motion, each step with a confidence that was impossible to

ignore. She flashed a dazzling smile at the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment before quickly preparing their drink.

Her thoughts wandered to Feyre and she whipped around to see her seated next to Rhysand, who were lost in each other's arms in a secluded corner of the tavern, and as if on cue, her gaze landed on Cassian. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her knees tremble and her heart race. There was something in his gaze – a hunger, a longing – that confused her. Mor's curiosity piqued as she followed Cassian's gaze to where it rested on her. It was a dangerous game he played, allowing himself to be drawn into her orbit, especially when the weight of his feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he was about to excuse himself, he felt a presence beside him. Turning, he saw her approaching, her eyes soft with concern. "Hey," she said, her voice gentle yet determined. "Can we talk?"

Cassian's eyes flickered to hers, and she was struck by the raw vulnerability she saw there. For a moment, it seemed as if he were on the verge of revealing whatever it is that’s been gnawing away at him. But then, almost as quickly, the walls slammed back into place, and his expression hardened once more. "I…" he began, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Cassian," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "You know you can trust me, right? Whatever it is." Foolish, fragile heart.

For a long moment, Cassian remained silent, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. She could practically see the gears turning in his mind, the internal battle he was waging. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and turned to face her, his eyes burning with an intensity – fondness that took her breath away.

That fondness looked like something that might one day call itself affection, and for all his insistence that he didn’t know how to feel the things his tender expression implies, she grapples to clip their wings. Unsuccessful, she chastises herself as she lets hope beat against the walls of her chest.

Cassian felt the walls he had so carefully constructed begin to crumble, his heart pounding in his chest as her eyes searched his, as if she could see straight into the depths of him. His gaze drifted to her lips, and he caught the subtle hitch in her breath, the same desire mirrored in her eyes.

This is, she knows, intimate for him, and he shied away from intimacy with a degree of discipline that was almost devout.

Slowly, almost involuntarily, he raised his hand, his calloused fingertips tracing the delicate curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and Cassian felt a jolt of electricity coursing through him.

He was all but a lost soul, desperately trying to find his home in a path that was not the slightest bit familiar. And if he was feeling kind, he'd flutter down and bless her with a kiss: dark and violent, screaming bloody murder, and kick his way into her soul. But he was never hers in the first place, was he?

Tags: (thank you guys so much for the support! <3) @joyseuphoria @puttyly @talesofadragon @saltedcoffeescotch

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x you #acotar x reader #cassian imagine #cassian angst #cassian x y/n

96 notes · View notes

greenleaf777 · 1 day

Text

Sooo who else would give their left tit for Elain Archeron to be their best friend?

Just me, Azriel, the twins and Sarah J Maas(she said it not me)??

My absolute favorite elain fanart by ehmandinah

Proof sjm said it

95 notes · View notes

purple-writer8 · 13 hours

Text

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - ACOTAR

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister (Reader)

“I cry a lot but I am so productive. It’s an art.”

warnings: toxic man implied, abused eris, emotionally unavailable eris, depressed reader, broken up mates, angst

968 words

Masterlist :)

"Yes, I went to Day and reported the findings to Helion. Then to Thesan." You reported to your High Lord and Lady. Rhysand looked more than pleased, and Feyre could only gape at you in awe.

"You did all that in a day?" She asked in shock, admiration gleaming in her eyes for you. You nodded, a tired smile adorning your face, "and the ball is all set for tonight."

Feyre gaped along with her mate, they could hardly believe it. "You are a blessing, a real fucking blessing. Thank you, so much... you will get more than a hefty bonus in your next payment." Rhysand grinned, dark talons caressing your mind in a soothing way.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, then asked, "why do you two always act like I'm some kind of miracle fae?"

They glanced at each other, then back at you, and then pity overtook both their stares. You know why. You were supposed to be heartbroken, as you had just ended your betrothal to Eris Vanserra. The two of you were mates, but the abuse he had suffered from his father and the toxic familiar dynamics he had grown up in, made him less than emotionally unavailable.

He was unable to communicate what he felt, all he could do was share his feelings through your bond. But that was not enough, not when he had commitment issues and acted like an ass to your family. The bond was strong, but your self-respect was stronger. Especially when you knew what you were worth, being the Night Court's High Lord's sister and Princess of Velaris.

"What happened with Eris... at the last ball... it was bad..." Feyre trailed, not wanting to exactly mention what had happened. It was fucking painful for you, you had broken your engagement in front of everyone. "And I saw you crying last night... and this morning before your mission..." she added.

"I cry a lot, but I am still very productive. I can do my work with a broken heart." You replied with a simple shrug, much to Rhysand's dismay. You had always been like that, had always hidden your feelings and done your work even when you were breaking down.

“You’re a real tough kid.” He said softly, violet eyes eyeing you closely, “you complete all your missions seamlessly. You are an example to follow.”

You chuckled dryly, “yeah, yeah, I am the best. Can I go get ready for tonight? I got the most beautiful dress and I want to try it on.” With that, the couple simply nodded and excused you.

They were right to be impressed. You wanted to die, and yet— you were ready to shine that night, like every other night.

Ready to show everyone lies.

The ball in the House of Wind went off without a problem, and like every other night-- you were the center of attention. The gown you wore was magnificent, the light reflected off you in a majestic manner, almost as if you wore liquid starlight in your frame. You stood at the side of the bar with Azriel, watching as everyone arrived, sipping on a tall glass of champagne. You knew Eris was coming, you needed to drink before seeing him.

"You look pretty," the shadowsinger said in a stoic manner, hazel eyes traveling up and down your frame swiftly. You smirked into your glass, "as do you."

"Have you spoken to him?" He asked, and you knew he referred to Eris. Azriel cared, and he showed it, having known you since the moment you had been born-- he was protective of you. Especially because he loathed Eris with all his being.

"Please, he avoids me like I am faebane," you snorted, the alcohol working its magic on you already. And you were grateful for it, because you almost choked when your eyes met the red - haired male that had once promised he would love you for his whole life. What a short life.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you, his shadows coiling around your ankles in support as you watched Eris strut into the ball as if he owned it. He commanded the room, but that was normal. He was a magnetic force of a male. You looked at Azriel, seeking shelter in his hazel eyes-- the mating bond was tugging you to Eris, his presence was like a fire roaring inside your heart.

You were about to break down, so you hit the dance floor. Dragging your sister-in-law from her seat next to your brother, you danced and danced. Feyre and you were always a force to be reckoned with when you partied together, and that night was no exception. You both were grinning as you danced, twirling about the Hall as if you were made of starlight.

The crowd of fae chanted and cheered for you, and you could feel the pieces of your heart shattering on the floor. It was always like that. You were miserable, and no one even knew. You laughed as you danced with Feyre, as if you couldn't feel your mate's heartbreak from across the room. "Eris looks like he wants to die," Feyre whispered as if she could read your mind.

"Yeah, but if I try to talk to him, he avoids me like I have fae plague," you snickered, your eyes finding the heir of Autumn. As soon as your eyes found his, they were looking away from you, as if he hadn't been watching you dance. You wanted to die, but instead you twirled and grinned as if you were having the time of your life.

"Then let me talk to him," the High Lady offered, and you stopped your dancing, giving her a stern look.

"I can handle my shit, Feyre."

Author’s note:

This will probably have a part two because i love eris and i want him to be happy. Also ttpd has me in my feels soooooo probs a lot of angst coming ehfuhihoiqhioghhrueiuifio3iij4rijj

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

72 notes · View notes

gwynsdefenseattorney · 14 hours

Text

✨✨Friendly Reminder✨✨

We don’t need random articles and songs not written by or having anything to do with Sarah to confirm anything. The books speak for themselves. If you need to comfort yourself with things not involving Sarah then. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Elucien Artwork by @brielyasmin (IG handle) Gwynriel artwork by @lucielart (IG handle)

112 notes · View notes

vivictory-draws · 2 days

Text

I heard that it's @tamlinweek and thus I had to draw the obligatory Brilin art piece... This was originally intended for Day 3 or 4 (Mates or Happily Ever After, respectevly), but I unfortunately couldn't finish it in time for either. Well, I suppose that by posting it for Day 6: Dreams, I can also use it as an excuse to promo my brilin fic as well.

✨please do not repost or use in any AI programs✨

#tamlinweek #tamlin #briar #brilin #tamlin x briar #acotar art #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acotar fanart #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #my art

73 notes · View notes

emmitaaa4 · 3 days

Text

A man will literally follow the sound of a woman’s laugh because he just needs to know what made her so happy—but that man is Azriel and that woman is Elain Archeron so they’re the most toxic, ill-suited pairing to walk Prythian’s soil since Amarantha and Jurian’s eye

ya know what makes perfect sense.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #this being in the book that allegedly killed elriel is lowkey funny

75 notes · View notes

faeries-child · 2 days

Text

Pale wings, grey words

Cassian x reader (illyrian/winged reader)

Warnings: Blood, violence, dark-thoughts, fighting. Minors get out of here.

Summary: On their mission Cassian and Azriel arrive just in the right time to find you.

(keep in mind that I have not yet double checked the text for errors and mistakes, I write these at the middle of the night)

Cassian's POV

Cassian was tired. Really tired, for all he right now wanted to do was: get drunk and sleep for a week. He and Azriel had been on the mission for weeks now. Flying from Illyrian camp to another, again and again and again. Of course both of them had taken this mission voluntarily, for Rhys had had concerns with some more remote Illyrian camps. These particular camps had shown suspicious activity and signs of relapsing back to their old ways. Rhysand had not originally been planning to send them, but recently Cassian had felt the need to take action for the things his people had done. For all the development he, Rhys and Azriel had accomplished in Illyria, Cassian could not have that go to waste.

So while Rhys was busy handling affairs at the night court, Azriel decided to accompany him, if not little for the reason that he would have a chance to punish people who hurt others like he was once hurt.

They had been flying for ages now, and Cassian was starting to feel it in his back muscles. Only trees and snow everywhere he looked. And it was freaking cold too. Not that he wasn’t used to it, he had grown like this actually but he still didn’t enjoy it.

“It’s not a long flight anymore” The spymaster said.

Cassian could see that Azriel too could use a break. Both males were covered in dirt that had slowly been building on their clothes for weeks. Shadowsinger had dark circles under his eyes for all the work that it required to use his shadows constantly, to stay alarmed at all the hours of the day. It was taking a toll on them both.

However, before them now opened one of their last camps to visit. This particular camp was also one of the most remote and far away from Velaris. These mindless grunts didn’t like when the inner circle meddled with their affairs. Hell, they didn’t even like when other Illyrian camps had something to say about their business.

Even so they still had not rebelled against their High Lord, yet. That’s why it was so important for them to keep tabs on the camp and if they were secretly planning a rebellion. It was however unlikely, because the Illyrians in this camp had no interest in expanding their territory, for they already held a big part of the northern sea border.

It was especially cold this time of the year. The General and his brother landed right in the middle of the village, so no one could have missed their big entrance. Most of the Illyrians just watched them for a moment, then they returned to their duties, training across training fields, repairing houses and everything else. Even if they didn’t show it by their actions, Cassian could feel how the atmosphere tightened.

“General, what a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t received any messages of you arrival”

Cassian and Azriel turned around, behind them a male, looking to be in his fifties but surely he was way older, standing now before them. His name was Alias, if Cassian could recall correctly. In their files he was marked as one of the ones who didn’t really mind Amaranthas actions, and weren’t exactly thrilled when their high lord broke free from under the mountain.

“We didn’t send any. We are here to do a mandatory check up commanded by your high lord.” said Azriel in his usual cold tone reserved for people he didn’t stand. “But first show us inside, the flight was boringly long and we should sit down to talk business”

Alias swallowed once, trying to keep calm. He clearly had problems accepting the way the spymaster was speaking to him.

“Right this way”

Y/N / oc pov:

“SHIT, shit shit!” you cursed seeing the patch of red on your sleeping mat. You knew that it would have come eventually but you had really hoped that maybe fate would have been on your side and you would never have started bleeding.

You knew that as soon as you would set a foot out of your tent, you would be theirs. New laws or no, you were a bastard, lowest of low and a freak. Total true freak. For when you were born they said that your mother was so scared of you that she had buried you in the snow, trying to save her own life, for when they would find out what you were they would kill her for bearing you.

But you had cried so hard and loudly that they had found you and seeing what your mother had brought to the world, they killed her on the spot.

And for you, killing a babe would have brought too much attention to the camp, so as soon as you were able to walk and somehow talk, they threw you with the other bastards. Only a tent and one set of clothes with you. And as a female, you were surprised that you had survived even this long.

But for why you were a freak, why your mother had died because of you, the reason was your wings. Not midnight black, but white. Pure white with no specks of black. Your hair was also white, only a couple black strands falling down here and there. That was the reason, enough reason for them to close you out, spit at you and curse at you for just looking at their way.

They hated anything that was not like them, did not look like them. And the fact that you were female made it all so much worse.

You didn’t know why you were like this. Was it your father that you had inherited your features from, it could be because you did not know who he was. Or was it just some mistake in your genes that happened in the womb. You did not know.

But the blood on your thin sleeping mat made everything a hundred times worse. You had been starving yourself, working to no end and trying every trick in the book to delay this. But in the end nature had taken its course now in your nineteenth year of living.

You also had no idea what would happen next, whether they would just plainly kill you to stop you from procreating and birthing another like you, or whether they would first take turns on you to test their sadistic theories of you and then kill you. One thing however was sure, they were going to take your wings.

Maybe you could escape, if you really just tried. If you were gonna die either way, might as well try, right? In panic you began to dress yourself with the warmest of clothes and rags you had been able to collect over the years. You had no valuables that would be worth taking with you, so you just clothed yourself and silently exited your tent.

It was still early morning and the sun had barely risen to greet the snowy trees. Escaping would probably be a mistake, since it was dead winter, and taking your camp's location into consideration it would take hours, possibly a day to reach something, anything really. But it would be worth it to try.

As silently as you could, you left the tent area and headed into the forest. When you had reached the area where the camp area ended, you started running as fast as you could. You knew that flying would gather you more attention than you wanted.

couple hours later:

You had been running for some hours now, your legs were hurting and you were starting to truly tire out. You needed to stop and take a breath but you knew that by now they were after you.

In the corner of your eye you could notice something in the bushes now behind you. Could they truly have gaught up with you so quickly. You didn’t think they would be that fast. Could this truly be your end?

This was the moment they caught you. You heard a big noise and an illyrian male soldier landed right before you, only a few feet from you. You didn’t know him, but you had seen him in your camp and knew that he was one of the males that still kept females as no more than means of breeding.

It was so hard to breathe. You only wanted to live, but male before you and the one now behind you were making the odds very few. As your last move you tried to charge toward the empty space to your right but the male was fast to catch you and take hold of you from the base of your wing, which hurt, terribly.

“And look what we have here” was the only thing that you heard before you fainted from the pain now emitting from the back of your head.

Cassian’s pov:

The meeting had been tiring and to no surprise to them, they had discovered that the female’s of the camp had not been trained since their last visit. Which was ages ago. At least they claimed that no wing clipping was happening but Azriel had convinced them to stay, as he was heavily suspecting Alias was lying.

He and Azriel stepped out of the cottage, Alias trailing behind them. Everyone in the camp had woken up, females doing chores and males fighting in the rings, or that was what Cassian had expected to see when he looked at the camp before him. But what he saw, had his siphons glowing in an instance and he could feel how Azriel’s shadows riled up in a less than a second.

The sight before them was not pretty. Illyrians of the camp had gathered around one of the fighting rings in the middle of the camp. And in the middle, were a young female, her hands tied to a wooden pole and her back and wings exposed.

And the worst of all, now there were red lines, wounds across her back. There were several of them, some of them on her wings. Her wings. Cassian did not know how he had not seen it. The color of them. White, nothing like he had ever seen before. White, like the snow around them.

He just stared at her. Unable to do anything else, for even though he couldn’t see the female's face, he was captivated. He could hear Azriel’s words, trying to bring him back to this moment.

“Cassian!” Azriel slapped him in the shoulder.

He came to his senses and without realizing, moved. He knew that he had to put an end to this right now, before me damage could be caused to the female. He just really hoped that it wouldn’t already be too late.

Using his wings, Cassian bolted to the people gathered around the female. He moved through them and before one more lashing of the whip could land on the female, the general commander of the night court moved between the girl and the man holding the whip, stopping its lash by grasping it mid-air with his bare hands.

Cassian pulled and the male holding the whip stumbled forward. At the same time Azriel reached them, glaring at the onlookers who did nothing to stop this from happening.

Cassian looked at the male before him, rage clouding his vision. Men like him were the reason the spymaster and him were sent to this mission. Oh, how much Cassian wanted to kill the brute before him, he didn’t even know why he was so angered. He’d met hundreds of men like him, but for an inexplicable reason Cassian wanted especially to drive his sword through this man's heart. He didn’t have the chance however, for Azriel had already thrown the man completely to the ground, now holding his leg over his head.

“Who gave you the order to do this?!” The general yelled to the man.

However the man said nothing, now just whimpering beneath the spymaster’s boot. But Cassian could also hear another voice, behind him he heard a crying voice, breathing heavily. He now remembered the female behind him and cursed himself that he hadn’t realized to untie her the moment he had the chance. Cassian turned and lowered himself toward the female, her head was hung low and her hands were tied to a post. He could not see her face, for it was covered by the long white hair that was now dirty and stained with blood.

“I will free you now, okay?” he told her, speaking as softly as he could. Reaching for the ropes that kept her hands tied. Hearing his words, the female raised her head quickly and turned to look at him, staring in his eyes. From the look in her eyes Cassian could tell that the female had been somewhere very far away, running from the pain and approaching doom. So far away that she probably hadn’t even noticed that he had intervened.

Her eyes were like any of the other Illyrians, something between brown and gold. But the look in them, it was striking. Like she was watching right into his soul, but the expression on her face was hatred, fear and pain. Cassian could not help staring into her eyes, like he was possessed.

He freed the woman's hands, and then caught her as she began falling to the ground. Trying not to touch her wings, he could only imagine the pain she was in. Looking at the pale wings he knew that they needed a healer, fast if she wanted to have full usage of them ever again. Cassian raised his head from the girl, looking before him, for now Alias was standing many feet from Azriel looking furious.

Trying to conceal his rage Alias spoke to them: “General, take no mind in her. She’s a traitor, her punishment is fit to her crimes. Let my men handle her.” Now Azriel too was seeing red. Both of them could notice that the girl was young, starved to the point that one could clearly see her collarbones and the hollowing of her cheeks. This girl could not have done anything that could have earned her the punishment she was given.

“Tell me Alias, and what exactly is her sin?” Now it was Azriel speaking, unsheathing his sword and raising it toward Alias.

“She ran away. And by law I have a duty to punish those that try to flee and sell information to our enemies”

Cassian glanced at the girl. It would be more difficult to get her out if this was indeed true and she did run away. Their laws were strict and Cassian would be at disadvantage if that was the case. “Is this true?” he spoke to her.

The girl had not taken her eyes away from him for a minute, but now on her face there was no hatred or disgust, but only fear. She looked utterly terrified.

“They…they were going-” she rasped out to him. Bits of blood now falling from her mouth and lips that she must have been biting to bear the pain. “They- were going to take my wings” she got out.

And that was the only thing that the general commander of the night court and the spymaster needed. Enough reason to damn Alias for a crime. Cassian wanted to rid his head of his shoulder at that instant, but he also knew that he would have to be questioned and then sentenced by their high lord, if they wanted to avoid possible uprising.

Azriel’s shadows were already taking grasp of Alias’ hands and then hiding him completely in the depth of those shadows. He would be delivered to the court of nightmares, where he would answer for his crimes.

Cassian felt the female going limp in his arms. And finally realizing truly how much blood there was staining the ground around them. “Azriel, we need a healer, fast!”

(This is not my greatest work, but I'll maybe make a part two if I feel like it :,) )

#acotar #rhysand #azriel #cassian #court of thorns and roses #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x oc #acosf #acomaf #love

63 notes · View notes