Tumgik
#Azriel is a worrier
mystical-blaise · 1 year
Text
Dadriel #11: Fear is Not My Future
Tumblr media
Azriel reminisces fondly about the past as he simultaneously dreads what the future holds.
Read it on Ao3 here
I haven't posted anything in a while and needed to get this out of my head. Mostly fluff with a little side of emotional hurt/comfort. Enjoy!
Remember this, the shadows used to hum as Azriel held the entire world in his hand. 
Not that he needed their heeding. After all, how could he forget how impeccably both Llyr's and little Catrin's heads fit wholly cupped in the heart of his palm? 
A heartwarming, idyllic match. So miraculously perfect. 
Almost as if the Mother herself had measured his hand's span. Both of the two wriggling babes a wonderfully complicated compliment into his life—just like their mother. 
He'd never forget his first time like this. Seeing them nestled in his hold, was against a background of fuzzy snow-white whirls. The backdrop of a blanket between them.
For a while, he had been nervous to hold them like that soft to marred skin. Worried how the roughness of him would feel against such tender flesh and featherlight wisps of hair. So when he'd often hold them at night when they were newborns, he would with a blanket between them.
And it wasn't until Gwyn had caught him one night, finally realizing what he was doing, that she calmly, gently told him, Remove the barrier, my love. 
Barrier. The word tolled through him like a clear bell of challenge. 
Barrier. It had been years since he'd allowed any between himself and his beloved mate, his friends—or around his hands. He loved the feeling of Gwyn's palm and fingers, now strong and roughened from years of training, against his own. He found comfort and clarity in her touch. Renewed vitality and strength.
And wouldn't his children gain the same?
Fear, uncertainty, were the ultimate hurdle. But eventually, with deep breaths and the shadows and Gwyn's loving support and gentle coaxing, he had held them. One at a time, their tiny, precious heads in his palm, the weight of them in his arms a joy he still couldn't comprehend.
Gods, they had been soft. They'd been so wondrously soft. Like his shadows whispering over him. Like fate and love and magic given form.
Perfect. 
The sweet image of their small heads nestled in the center of his palm as he cradled them was imprinted on his soul, imparted with a promise. 
A promise he thought about every time he glanced at his hand. 
While Gwyn fretted and assessed the twins' lives in reaching milestones, Azriel measured the passing of time by his hand.
The once perfect fit was long gone, Llyr and Catrin not even needing the extra support of it anymore, each of them able to hold themselves, sit on their own. Their inquisitive son was even starting to pull himself up on furniture. 
Catrin was getting there, but she seemed content to allow her brother and others to bring things to her. Which still worried Gwyn, though their family did their best to allay her ruminating.
Don't worry, Berdara. My father often said how late I was at walking—until I saw something I wanted. Catrin is just willfully stubborn, just like her mother. Gwyn had stuck her tongue out at Nesta for that. But, her Valkyrie-sister continued, when she finally sees something she really wants, that little Valkyrie is going to run, not walk. And then you will beg the Mother for her to sit still again. 
And Azriel had little doubt about Nesta's claim. 
Even now in sleep, her ever-growing wings splayed beneath her, spread out as wide as her arms, her forehead was puckered as if she was scheming. Her small rosebud lips with the perfect bow were parted on soft puffed breaths, little snores that reminded him so much of watching Gwyn sleep. Though with her onyx hair, he could only imagine she was the spitting image of her namesake. Apart from her wings and the wavy ringlets in her hair, the little girl was most definitely a Berdara. 
He peered over at the other crib. His son, even with his porcelain skin and copper coloring, was Azriel through and through. A quiet boy, always content to assess a situation before trying. And Azriel swore Llyr was paying close attention to the shadows more now than ever, enough to make the Shadowsinger wonder.
Catrin's pitiful whimper called his attention.
It was a nightly ritual now whenever he was home—when nightmares dragged him from the little sleep his body called for—to check on his family as they slept. 
Safe, Singer. 
Safe. All of them were safe. No demons from his past or enemies of his present were here.
And that had been that promise the first time he'd held them with no barrier between them.
His children would never know the true reality of cold. Never know the bite of shackles on their wrists or ankles. They'd never long for comfort. 
They'd never question if they were loved.
Their safety would always be assured.
Safe to sleep. Safe to dream. Safe to love.
They'd have everything he didn't have. And he'd make sure of it with his last breath.
That was his promise.
And yet…
His knuckle gently smoothed over Catrin's forehead, over her chubby cheek. 
Every day, he compared their heads to his hand. Every day it sunk in that they were bigger, no longer fitting to the dimension. They were growing up. Every day was another day closer to—
Arms circled him from behind, and he stretched his wings aside as a pointy chin rested on his bare left shoulder. He sighed into her, loving to be surrounded by her softness and her scent.
"You all right?" Gwyn asked.
"Yes." He swallowed thickly. "Couldn't sleep. And you?"
"Nightmare," she sighed. His arm encircled her as he kissed her temple. Her soft chuckle caught him off guard. "Just look at them. They're getting so big." 
His throat bobbed, his fingertips and shadows grazing over the peach fuzz of the babe's cheek again. "They are. It seems they are doing new things each day. It's truly remarkable."
"It is. And yet…it worries me."
"Gwyneth Berdara, worried? No. I can't believe such a thing," he teased, earning a little playful nip to his shoulder.
"The more they move, the farther they go, the more dangers await. Cauldron, the House of Wind is built on top of a godsdamn mountain. It suddenly feels like a death trap. I shouldn't even dare blink when they're awake."
"The House won't let anything happen to them, love. Neither will we."
"Still, I'd feel better if we need to take precautions. Be proactive. Cover corners, secure doors and knobs. Gates around the stairs and fencing off the training ring." She eyed him. "How would you feel about covering the tips of your wings?"
Azriel snorted. "Gwyn, I love you and your creative mind, but there's no way in hell. Illyrians have had babies forever and I haven't read one single instance of eyes getting poked out by wing tips."
"If you insist." She exhaled, her eyes taking in the dozing girl in the crib. The shadowsinger tightened his hold on his mate. "Does it…does it make you a little sad, too?"
His lips twitched. His clever copper-headed wife always saw straight through to the heart of the matter. "It does."
"I don't know what I'm going to do when they leave to be on their own one day," she confided, her mouth trembling slightly against his collar. "Though I guess it's silly to think about right now, one day they'll be starting their own lives. It'll be up to them. They won't need us."
He kissed her again, tugging her ever closer to him, glancing between their sleeping children. "We'll always be there for them. And it's not silly in the slightest. I am, too. I think perhaps it's the nature of parenthood. The blessing of children comes with the curse of constant worry about what they will face, what the future holds. The perils. The heartache. I just…I don't want them to feel a moment of pain."
And he wouldn't be able to bear it. Because that was the risk of letting down barriers of the heart and soul—it left one vulnerable to the worst heartbreak, the greatest pain imaginable. 
The tactile fear of losing it all after he'd finally allowed himself to feel, to accept.
A panic he used to solely place on Gwyn and now…
"I wish I could relieve your fears and mine, Shadowsinger. But…it's not practical." He peered down at his lovely beauty, falling immediately into the teal orbs staring up through heavy lashes. "Some pain is simply a part of life. The elation and happiness of first loves, families and friendships can't be had without risk. Without having faith. Because you go in knowing that things could end with heartache and loss. I don't imagine the fear will ever abate. But it's worth it to experience love, is it not?"
He didn't take his eyes off of Gwyn, remembering all the times he almost lost her, had seen and felt her pain and dread. How he'd witnessed her drift away from him after the birth of their children. Hell, forget about battle; he'd been more terrified of losing her on the birthing bed—and their twins. 
Yet she was here. Now. They all were.
And he would relive his haunted past over again if it meant he'd end up right here.
Arm still wound around Gwyn, his fingertips left his daughter's brow to tip up his mate's freckled face. He'd memorized it long ago, each freckle as familiar as his own scars. And as he stared down, felt the touch of her skin against his own, without linen or fear between them, he dipped his face down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
Every kiss was a blessing. 
Every touch was a miracle. 
Every fear was worth living. 
The love for his family was worth everything. A love he would hold forever in his heart and carried in the palm of his hand.
81 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue
summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.
word count; 3171
notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3
Tumblr media
Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 
Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 
Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 
“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 
“Hi, Azzy.”
Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 
Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 
Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 
Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 
He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”
You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”
“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 
“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 
“Care to share any of these thoughts?”
“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”
“I do that a lot too.”
You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 
There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 
The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 
The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 
Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”
Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 
“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”
You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 
Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 
Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 
Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 
You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 
“You’re here, you made it!”
Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 
“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”
Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”
You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 
Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 
“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 
“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 
“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 
“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 
“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”
“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”
She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 
Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 
The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,
Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 
Then, there was you and Azriel.
Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”
You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”
“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 
“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”
“You’re impatient!”
“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 
“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”
Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 
“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”
Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 
Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 
A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.
“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”
“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 
“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 
Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 
He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 
“What did you ladies talk about?”
“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”
“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”
You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”
He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 
“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”
“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 
“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”
Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 
Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.
“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”
“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 
“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 
“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”
“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 
“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”
641 notes · View notes
historiaxvanserra · 1 year
Note
Fluff where reader reveals she’s pregnant with one of the batboys 🥹 and Rhys/Cassian/Azriel are in tears of joy
Little Love | Pregnancy Headcannons
thank you for the request love! I couldn't choose who to write about so I'm going to do headcanon style so I can write about everyone's favourite bat boys! I also had so much fun with these that I will eventually do like a mini-series where each of the boys gets a standalone fic about finding out their going to be dads!
Rhysand
Rhys is TERRIFIED when he finds out! our boy is a worrier you best believe it keeps him up at night sometimes.
BUT!!! he's also absolutely in awe of you, and the way your body changes and grows.
he's genuinely mystified by how you can carry on as (relatively) normal when your body is doing this amazing thing.
HE'S SUCH A GODDAMNED FLIRT! constantly compliments you. He wants you to know how much he worships you and your stomach that is full of his growing child.
Rhysand is convinced it's a boy and will have a name picked and everything but there is a soft part of him that can't wait for a daughter to spoil.
He 1000% cries when your baby is placed in his arms for the first time.
He spends the rest of the day thanking you every chance he gets.
Cassian
Cass genuinely LAUGHS when you tell him-- like a genuine bellow before it melts into one of those laugh/cry situations and then he wraps his big arms around you and just won't let go.
Then he runs to tell all of his family. He practically screams it to anyone who will listen.
He paints the nursery immediately.
He DEFINITELY talks to your stomach-- sometimes he wakes you up late in the night talking too loudly to your growing bump.
PREGNANCY SEX!!!! this man can not keep his hands off you. If it makes you feel good all you have to do is ask and this man will jump your bones.
Cass is EXCITED but sometimes he lets to mask slip a little and he reveals that he's worried that he doesn't have what it takes to be a good dad.
He's such a doting dad and your child will always be loved unconditionally.
Azriel
Azriel is the one who gets THE MOST emotional about it-- our favourite soft!boy cries as he sinks to his knees and presses his head to your stomach.
He's also the most scared to become a dad. The gravity of the situation is not lost on him but he's a fairly logical man so the panic doesn't last long.
Like Rhys he treats you like a QUEEN the entire pregnancy and gladly caters to your every whim.
Azriel worships the ground you walk on already but making him a dad makes his FERAL.
Labour absolutely paralyzes him like nothing else-- he's not scared of the blood but he HATES seeing you in that much pain. If he could take it all away he could in an instant.
Sometimes you catch him awake at night just watching you both so devoutly because "what did he ever do to deserve this?"
Lullaby KING! He has such a soft voice and he likes to sing to your baby when he thinks nobody is listening.
954 notes · View notes
thehaemanthus · 5 months
Text
live once (once is enough) primer
aka the most shameless self-promotion I've ever done
It's been *checks AO3* six years, wtf, six years since I posted the first one-shot in this universe. I'm grateful for all the interest, etc. etc., but I'm bad at promoting myself or sharing on tumblr. So here's a bit about the series, meant transparently to entice new readers and get long-time readers to reblog (and perhaps share their favorite character? a memorable chapter? no? all right it's asking a lot--)
Tumblr media
live once (once is enough) is a now canon-divergent AU exploring the next generation of ACOTAR characters. With the birth of Nyx we are firmly AU now, alas, but since Nyx is a baby who isn't flushed out I can ignore his existence. Sorry, kid. This story covers everything from baby fluff to anxiety about the future to wars to coming of age stories to Cassian and Rhys as Girl Dads.
Is this a next generation fic with a bunch of OCs? Sure. Is it really good? I think so, but I'm biased. But my bro @galethehotandfabulous even did fanart for it. It's gotta be okay if someone did fanart for it.
Read more for info on characters, more in the series, and more.
Who are the kids?
Niphrym- The eldest child of Feyre and Rhys and the Heir to the Night Court. I like his name better than Nyx. He's compassionate like his mother, arrogant like his father, and takes his job as a big brother seriously. Niphrym tries to be the Perfect Heir, but has serious doubts about being a High Lord one day.
Vesriel- The second child of Feyre and Rhys, who has a whole multichapter fic written about him. Ves can be mean and sarcastic, but he's intensely loyal to his family and his Court. This is the one with the most Childhood Trauma.
Lysander- Third kid, very middle child coded. Lysander likes to keep to himself, but he can be charming and suave when he needs to. As Azriel's protégé, he's at ease in any environment and can blend into the background. He can also be stubborn and unforgiving.
Sahil- The youngest son, Sahil is chill, likable, and multitalented. Unlike his older brothers he doesn't clearly slot into a role in Night Court politics, but is reliable when called upon. Sahil is happy if everyone else is happy.
Marcyllae- Called Marcy, she is the youngest of the bunch along with her twin. Marcy is not magically talented, but she is charming and assertive. When Marcy wants something, she gets it. Incredible confidence hides some insecurity at being the least remarkable in an incredibly powerful family.
Meliora- Mel is Marcy's twin, quiet and thoughtful to her outgoing sister. Her power rivals Niphrym's. She's shy and a worrier, consumed with concerns about her power, the future, and who she wants to be. Rhys would never say it, but she is his favorite.
Adelaide- Eldest child of Nesta and Cassian, three years older than Niphrym (grr, canon messing up my universe). Addy is a lady and can play the courtier as well as her mother, though she has a fierce independent streak that leads her away from the Night Court. She cares about her family, but doesn't want to fight in wars or be involved in the daily running of the Court.
Xavier- Second child of Nesta and Cassian. Xavier has two sides; a promiscuous violinist sleeping his way through Velaris and the merciless trainer of Illyrians. He's impossible to manage, but is a good older sibling and cousin. Most of the time.
Catarina- Youngest child of Nesta and Cassian. Cat is only a few months older than Lysander. The two are closer with each other than their own siblings. Like Lysander, she is very principled and stubborn in her role as the commander of an all-female unit of Illyrians. Cat dotes on her younger female cousins.
Theia- Eldest child of Lucien and Elain. Theia was raised in the Day Court and sometimes feels separate from her Night Court cousins. She is incredibly confident and despises being left out of the loop on anything. Despite historical precedent, she sees herself as a Day Court heir and knows she will be a High Lady in her own right.
Cybele- Second child of Lucien and Elain. Cybele is content to be in her older sister's shadow. She is sweet and calm to Theia's brilliance, generally content to do her bit to serve the Day Court and promote peace in Prythian.
What are the stories?
live once (once is enough) is the main story, but there are other fics in the series.
miracles is a one-shot chronicling the five times Feyre goes into labor
The Second Son is a multichapter about Vesriel. A sequel is in the works.
lovely weather for a sledding adventure with you is a Modern AU of my AU because I couldn't resist. Pure holiday fluff.
Upcoming stories might include a multichapter about Mel and one about Lysander, and maybe more in the Modern AU of my AU universe.
You can also check out the tag for musings and tidbits.
How much of this is AU?
Pretty much just the existence of Nyx. When I wrote about Addy and Niphrym, I don't even think ACOSF was announced yet. I started the series before ACOFAS. There was an inkling that more books would be out, but I don't believe anything was confirmed.
So you'll see mentions of Gwyn and Emerie and Valkyries, but I conveniently ignore that which does not fit into my universe, haha.
When will the story be finished?
It's a series of one-shots, and I haven't lost interest yet, sooo who knows. If you are the kind of person who doesn't read a story until it is finished, just know that I'll be working on this whole universe for a while, I think.
13 notes · View notes
nikethestatue · 2 years
Text
Solstice (Baby Please Come Home)
25 Days of Elriel Solstice
Day III
(Set in the world of La Dolce Vita, Modern AU)
2420 words/suggestive situations
Tumblr media
“Baby, is this a reasonable thing to do today?”
Azriel sighed a deep sigh and added, for emphasis, “Solstice Eve? Really?”
He looked outside and sighed again. Thick, dark clouds enveloped the tops of the buildings, and snowflakes swirled—but not the cute snowflakes of Solstice cards, but the wet and sloppy ones, the ones that plopped like tiny toads on the pavement and stuck to cars and people’s lashes and hats.
“It’s going to be an in-and-out,” Elain called out from upstairs.
He hummed to himself, knowing that it wouldn’t be. But there was no reasoning with females who were in the throws of an IKEA-based fantasy of meatballs and nifty gadgets.
But he tried yet again, “Baby, do you know how busy it will be today? All the stragglers? Last minute shoppers grabbing anything and everything they can get their hands on?”
Elain descended the industrial stairs of their massive loft, just as she threaded an earring into her ear.
“All I need are cinnamon buns and meatballs and just a few other things. Like those sandwich bags that come in different sizes in one box. They are so cool!”
He cocked his brow and asked, “We are going all the way to IKEA just for cinnamon buns and sandwich bags?”
“And meatballs!”
“Laney, aren’t you a baker?” he reminded her, as he went to put on his jacket, knowing that arguing was futile and he’d have to comply. And drive out of NYC to the suburbs to gods-blasted IKEA. Not that he didn’t appreciate the cutesy designs and the thoughtful approach to space-saving and utilization of various materials—the designer in him rejoiced—but did all that justify driving there in the snow? Not really.
He held her jacket for her, and she turned around and cupped his face between her hands.
“Thank you. I love you so much. You are the best, but if you don’t want to go, you don’t,”
“No, I don’t really want you driving through the city, in this weather,” he cut her off. Ever the worrier, he probably only rivalled Rhys in his concern and over-protectiveness. Yes, she could drive in this weather, but he competed a defensive-driving course and qualified for Formula 1 racecourse a few years back. He was a professional driver.
“But,” he attempted one last time, “as a baker…don’t you want to stay in, in our gigantic, very comfortable and cozy kitchen. The fireplace is on in the living room. You can drink wine, while you are making dough. We can make out, while we are waiting for it to rise. And then the house is filled with delicious smells of cinnamon and yeast,”
Elain stopped buttoning her coat and roller her eyes, “No! That’s not fair,” she almost stomped her foot. “You can’t go full-poet on me, and entice me with staying in, baking and making out by the fireplace,”
“We can take it beyond just making out,” he proposed quickly. Grinning. “I can spend an hour licking your pussy by the Tree there,”
She smacked him lightly on the lips and shook her head, groaning, “How can you be so poetic and so gross at the same time?”
“I take it from both of my idiot brothers. Rhys is poetic,” he wrapped her scarf around her neck, “Cass is gross. I am a tasty combination of both.”
She looked up at him and batted her lashes slightly, slowly biting her lower lip. He tracked the movement closely, and then leaned in and brushed that lip with the tip of his tongue.
“I have an idea,” she murmured breathlessly in his ear, kissing the shell of it as she whispered, “as a thank-you gift, after we come home, I will spend as long as you’d like me to on my knees, in front of that beautiful tree of ours.”
“Hmmm,” he hissed. “That’s unfair, baby. Why do we need to go to IKEA? When we can just get you on your knees right here, right away…and see what comes of it,”
She bit his earlobe sharply and laughed.
“You’ll have all this time to think of ways to keep my on my knees. Thank about it,”
“I am already thinking,” he said readily, squeezing her breast through the jacket and the hoodie that she was wearing. “And I have so many ideas.”
“I can’t wait,” she beamed and then grabbed his scarred hand and pulled him after her.
A part of Azriel couldn’t blame Elain for wanting to get a bit of help.
Tomorrow, they were hosting their first Solstice Brunch, for everyone. This was their first Solstice as a couple, and while Rhys and Feyre usually hosted the extravagant brunch annually, this year, Elain stepped in and proposed that they alternate between all the couples. The suggestion was greeted with enthusiastic agreement and so it was settled. However, once Azriel began going over the invitation list, she frowned,
“I didn’t realize that it would be so many people.”
“Yeah, love, that’s why Rhys has an army of caterers preparing for this shindig.”
Elain kneeled on the bed and protested, “But I don’t want a caterer. I want to do it myself,”
“It’s a lot,” he reasoned.
And he was correct.
She was terribly busy with her flower shop and her bakery the entire month, and suddenly, Solstice was upon them. And nothing was ready, other than the crates of prosecco and champagne that were delivered the other week to the loft. In addition, there were gallons of orange and cranberry juice chilling on the patio, and bottles of vodka and tequila, and everything that was needed for good and spicy Bloody Marys.
“I have an idea,” Elain proposed. They were decorating their lush Solstice Tree and so far, it was turning out beautifully. What Azriel didn’t mind was that Elain was absolutely naked, other than a pair of heels. She had lost a bet. A bet that she should’ve won, and he thought that perhaps, just perhaps, she lost it on purpose. So she could decorate the tree in the nude, taunting him with her delicious pink nipples, her lush ass, the pale, toned belly and…gods, she was pretty and pink everywhere.
“And what is this idea?” he handed her a glittering silver ball and she hung it on a branch, stepping back and admiring their work. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her body, cupping her breasts and brushing his thumbs over the nipples.
“We make a Swedish Solstice,” she announced, melting into his embrace, purring softly against his bicep, watching his long fingers pinch and roll the swollen tips of her breasts.
“None of us are Swedish, baby,” he reminded her casually, kissing her hair. “I am about as closely related to Swedes as I am to a panda,”
“Mmm, my panda,” she groaned, slipping her hand into his jeans.
She had spent quite a long time on her knees in front of that tree that evening.
Now, they were on their way to IKEA, to buy bags of meatballs, packets of sauce, trays of cinnamon buns, jars of lingonberry jam, strange, hard Swedish breads that looked and tasted like dirt, and whatever else was on Elain’s long list. Azriel had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea—he’s never met a person who didn’t like those meatballs, it was quick and easy to prepare, and all they needed to do was roast a few trays of potatoes with butter and dill, steam some salmon for the fish-eaters and they’d be done. However, it still sucked that they were driving all the way there today, and the snow was falling with increasing determination.
It took an hour to finally leave the city, and 1.5 hrs. to arrive to the store. The parking lot was full—not surprising—and inside was moderately busy.
And then, they got sucked in.
Azriel was hauling the huge yellow bag, before switching to a cart, because there was suddenly need for sets of mixing bowls, napkins, long, contemplative stares at festive gnomes of every kind, and questions about sparkling trees and tinsel, and decisions about how many bags of meatballs would be needed?
“I’d say count on half a bag per man,” Azriel recommended, consulting the guest list again.
“What?!” she cried. “Half a bag?!”
“Honey, between Cass, Lorcan and Fenrys alone, what do you think?”
“But,”
“But we should buy six-seven dozens of eggs and make a huge pan of scrambled eggs and that’s going to be a lot cheaper,”
She chewed her lip and nodded. He made sense.
At last, they were done, and after standing in line for close to 40 minutes they exited the store—only to be met with blowing snow, howling wind gusts that threatened to topple lamp posts and just about zero visibility.
Bundled in her scarf and hat, Elain looked around helplessly. The parking lot turned into a snowy kingdom, with cars buried under a blanket of snow, and none of the roads ploughed.
“Oh gods,” she whimpered.
“Well, this blows,” he grunted, nestling deeper into the collar of his jacket.
“We can’t get out!”
“Nope.”
He popped his lips, looking around, deciding on the course of action.
He sensed Elain’s guilt emanating from her, and the worried looks that she threw at him, expecting him to get angry with her. And it would probably be warranted, annoyance and anger, but Azriel had spent too much of his life being angry, with his head flooded with icy rage that no one could ever thaw, until Elain came into his life. And if this debacle was going to be the greatest of their worries, then so be it.
“Go back inside the store,” he ordered.
“What?”
“I am going to throw all this shit in the trunk, so it stays frozen.”
“And?
“And then we’ll see what happens.”
Ladies and gentlemen, the New York State Weather Department has announced that we are under a blizzard warning until tomorrow at 8 am. The entire metropolitan area of New York is under a winter storm advisory…
The announcement came over the loudspeaker inside the store.
There were groans and a lot of ‘fuck!’ flying around.
Azriel was laughing softly.
“What’s so funny?” she hissed under her breath.
“I always wanted to be lost in a big department store, when I was a boy—and have a go at it overnight. Do whatever I wanted,” he admitted, pulling her closer to himself.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are welcome to make yourself comfortable inside our store. Please be respectful and mindful of your fellow stranded shoppers. We will be opening the cafeteria for our impromptu Solstice dinner at seven o’clock. We hope you join us then!
The snow fell thick and steady outside.
“I don’t think we’ll be going home, sweetheart,” Azriel said good-naturedly, making himself comfortable on one of the sofas and having Elain nestle next to him.
“I don’t think so.” She agreed. They had removed their jackets and hats and stuffed them all in a bag and made themselves at home.
She stroked his cheek and asked softly, “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” he laughed, kissing the top of her head, “I think that this is fucking awesome!”
“Weirdo,” she chuckled and brough his hand to her lips, “I love you, you know?”
“I know, and I love you too.”
“But what are we going to do with $300 bucks worth of meatballs and jam?” she lamented.
“The invite isn’t until 11 am tomorrow, so we might very well make it in time and prepare. And Cass can be in charge of drinks. If everyone is well-libated, no one will care if we are late.”
At 7:08pm, Elain and Azriel were seated at a little plastic table for two, plates of meatballs, creamy sauce, blobs of red jelly and three boiled potatoes in front of them. For a special festive touch, bottles of pear and apple cider were popped. Solstice music was blaring, and the lights were dimmed a bit, for a more intimate atmosphere.
“Happy Solstice, my love,” Azriel raised his glass to her.
“Happy Solstice, Az,” she smiled at him. “This is the best Solstice of my life.”
They clinked their glassed and drank their pear cider.
“It’s not bad,” he decided, smacking his lips. “And it’s the best Solstice of my life as well, Elain. All because of you,”
“Home, is where I am with you,” she murmured and a lone tear of happiness ran down her cheek.
“Let’s go and find us one of those fake Swedish apartments,” Azriel proposed, “and sleep there,”
They grabbed their trays and the two plates with cake, which they saved for later.
He winked at the bottle of cider, and said, “Grab that too…We can have some fun with that!”
They found a one room ‘model apartment’, which had an actual bed, and not a bunkbed, and settled in for the night under the plush duvets.
“It’s all good and it all works,” Azriel reflected, looking around at their new ‘apartment’, which they dubbed ‘Sven’s Home’, “but how do you bring a date to an apartment with a bunkbed?”
Elain was laughing.
Around them, people were settling in as well, and the lucky ones also got their own ‘apartments’. Otherwise, it was a free-for-all on sofas, beds, chairs and beanbags. Kids were squealing with delight, loving the adventure.
“This is actually kind of awesome,” Elain decided, crossing her legs and feeding him his piece of cake.
The next morning, the snow had stopped falling and the roads were passable.
Stuffed full of bacon, eggs, cinnamon buns and coffee bright and early in the morning, courtesy of IKEA’s cafeteria, Elain and Azriel made it back to the city just in time to set the tables and start preparing the food.
“Happy birthday, Fey!”
In the midst of the festivities, Azriel found Elain and put his arms around her, kissing her brow.
“Happy Solstice. We made it home. As promised.”
She looked around their vast loft, at their friends and family who were laughing and playing and eating and drinking and smiled with satisfaction, “It’s a very nice Solstice Brunch, if I may say so myself.”
“It is. But don’t think that I forgot about my little reward,” he winked.
“In front of the tree. On my knees. For as long as you want,” she promised.
72 notes · View notes
theladyofdeath · 6 years
Note
My dashboard is blowing up with Elucien so could I get some Elriel? Maybe Elain gives Az 1st aide for a bee sting and kisses it to make it better. For the prompts
Short prompts that can be answered in under 500 words, word count: 341.
Enjoy! :)
Azriel sighed. “Elain, I really am fine, I promise.”
“Oh, hush,” she laughed, rubbing a salve over the sting. “Letme take care of you. We all know you’re a manly man, it’s not going to hurtyour reputation.”
Despite himself, Azriel grinned.
They had been outside in her garden, meandering through hernewly planted roses when Azriel got in a quarrel with the little asshole.
The bee.
Azriel used to love bees, used to support them in theirendeavors. But now, he was slightly bitter toward the species as a whole.
Elain had rushed him inside and pulled out the stinger, thenquickly put an ice pack on it before resuming her first aid. After rubbing asalve over the wound, much to Azriel’s protests, she gave him a little redpill.
He blinked. “What is this?”
“Benadryl. Take it. It’ll help with the swelling, and anysort of reaction.”
Azriel chuckled. “But I’m not allergic to be-“
“Take it,” she begged, placing it in his palm.
He sighed, again, before dry swallowing the pill, if only toplease her.
“There,” she said, before kissing his wound, then kissinghis forehead, then kissing his lips, softly.
It was cute, charming, almost, the way she cared so deeplyfor him. It was moments like this that made Azriel remember just how much ElainArcheron loved him.
Azriel smiled as he took her hands. “You’re going to make such a good mother.”
And she would, with her caring personality. She was anatural worrier – a natural nurturer. Moments like this reminded him of howgreat she was going to care for their little ones.
Elain placed a hand gingerly against her stomach, andsmiled. “One more month.”
Azriel lifted her shirt up enough to show her belly, her bump, andkissed the spot just above her belly-button. “One more month.”
They spent the rest of their afternoon indoors, away fromflowers and the bees the hovered above them, and looked at baby clothes onlinewhile watching an entire season of Downton Abbey.
113 notes · View notes
0erasurehero0 · 7 years
Text
A Court of Red and Gold Part One
Part One: Her Little Monster
They ambled through the woods silently for hours, scanning the trees and ground in front of them for any clues on where the spies went.
That’s what they were doing—spying for spies.
Feyre didn’t particularly like this type of work, especially since she was put on archery duty. If we were to find a spy in the sky (oh wow, that rhymes. It didn’t in my head) she was the one to shoot them down.
Fortunately, we haven’t spot anything yet. This either meant yay, our friends in the winter court found them, or oh shit, we’re screwed.
But Rhys was certain that we would be able to find them, so we continued through the unrelenting winter forest. Cassian was the only one that seemed to complain vocally, spreading his protests about how since it was so cold the spies were possibly already frozen to death somewhere in the forest ahead.
Nesta was quiet, as usual, but she held a smile each time Elain excitedly pointed out a tree she hopes to one day plant. I couldn’t blame Nesta; even I felt a smile form across my lips every time I heard the excited gasps come from elain.
Azriel was scouting. Alone, despite Rhys’ protests. He claimed that with it snowing again, Azriel might not be able to see, so he asked if he’d wait. Azriel’s counter attack was that he didn’t want us walking out in this weather any longer. Rhys had taken one look at me, and at the overly underdressed Mor who was shivering furiously, and relented, agreeing with Azriel.
To be honest, I agreed wholly with Az. It’s way too cold to be out here searching for these spies. If they get back into the Night Court we’d know and take care of it. If they get into another court (and all courts know there are spies running about, we sent letters to each of them) those courts will take care of it.
Now, three hours after Azriel had returned, we were still looking for those spies. At least, that’s what everyone had thought.
It was actually me who had kept everyone going. Drawn to some unknown scent, some unknown familiarity, I dragged the search own. Something nagged at the back of mind, something kept telling me to look.
When I couldn’t find what I was looking for, the thing told me to look harder.
After that, the thing told me to open my eyes.
This thing, this someone, was me.
I felt Rhys’ presence behind me as I led the inner circle towards the familiar scent. I could feel things as I got closer; could remember things. Memories flooded through my mind.
“Hey, Feyre, what did the water nymph say to the tree nymph?”
“What?”
“Why don’t you em-bark on a journey through my coast!...That wasn’t very good.”
“That is most definitely the worst joke I have ever heard. It doesn’t even make sense...I…!”
A name was forming through my mind, but I couldn’t complete it. It started with an I, but that’s all I could conclude from the memory.
Plus, that joke was truly horrible.
By the mother I knew what it was supposed to imply but that was truly the worst way to imply those type of actions.
Rhys’ hand was splayed on my shoulder and he was gently shaking me, trying to get my attention.
“Feyre, is everything alright? We should probably head back…you don’t seem like you’re doing so well—”
“I’m fine.” I snapped.
When I turned, I saw the worry and hurt in his eyes. I didn’t just snap at him—my words were laced with venom.
“Rhys—I’m sorry…” I rubbed my arm, which began itching in a weird way, and lowered my gaze, “I probably am getting sick. I haven’t been feeling too well lately…”
“I’ve noticed that.” Mor shuffled through the snow towards me. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
Rhys wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get home and contact a healer to check for any illness. You could be getting a cold.” Rhys’ eyes lit with amusement. “Mor is a monster when she gets sick.”
“Liar,” Mor barked. “I am no such thing.”
I heard both Azriel and Cassian break down in laughter. When I glanced at them, Azriel was practically on the ground in tears.
“You’re horrible to us when you’re sick!” Cassian yelled. “We can’t even get near you to heal you! I remember once that you threw a lamp, a lamp, at Az when he was bringing you soup!”
Mor’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. I didn’t join in the laughter until Nesta walked by and pushed Mor’s mouth closed. Cassian howled.
“Let’s agree to go back now,” Amren stated, calmly. “It is getting colder and colder, and with this new body it affects me more now.”
So, we headed back as quickly as possible. Rhys brought a pen and some paper to write a letter to the other courts that we lost the spies, so they should keep a close eye on their courts
As we walked, I couldn’t ignore the tug back to where we were going. I felt my blood freeze and my heart race and my ears rang—it felt wrong, wrong to leave.
Leaving so soon?
I glanced behind me, but no one was there. I looked towards my friends, but no one seemed to hear what I heard.
“This is no illness…”
Rhys turned to me. “Hm?”
I hadn’t realized I said that out loud, but it didn’t change the fact that whatever was going on wasn’t some sickness. I wasn’t sick—my acting weird has nothing to do with being sick.
I’ve been acting hostile.
So rude.
I hurt Cassian during training—burned his arm.
So mean.
I’ve snapped at everyone, been hearing things, and I’ve been more…powerful, in a way. I can feel my powers smoothening, becoming more flexible and usable, growing. What’s happening?
Such a beast.
I ignored the voice just as I had ignored the others. But I couldn’t ignore the feeling that I was doing something wrong by not following that tug.
My little monster, my little beast. You are awakening.
Shut up, shut up. I hate this—maybe I am sick. Maybe I do need a healer…
They cannot fix what is not broken. Open your eyes…
We got closer to the House of Wind and I never felt more relieved. I watched and waited as Cassian scooped up Nesta and flew to the balcony. Azriel grabbed Elain and flew skyward. Mor, I had expected to walk over to Rhys, walked over to me.
“I saw you fly Nesta up there once with ease. Wanna fly me up there? Rhys always flies too fast.”
Rhys chuckled and said, “Then I’ll see you both in a moment,” and flew towards the balcony.
Mor came closer when I reached for her. I carried her bridal style, the easiest way to fly someone, and took off.
As we got closer, I felt eyes on me, felt blood trickle from my nose towards my mouth. I landed a little haphazardly on the balcony. Mor didn’t fail to notice that. Or the blood.
“Rhys, get a healer, immediately!” She turned to me and placed her hands on both sides of my face. She studied my eyes for a moment.
“You seem lucid—So that’s a good sign. Everyone gets nose bleeds, that shouldn’t’ be a problem.” She took the napkin that Cassian retrieved and patted the blood away. “But something is wrong.”
My head pounded and I found that I couldn’t stand anymore. I promptly sunk to the floor.
“Rhys! Hurry!”
Feyre’s eyes closed, a memory forming in her mind of a similar time—but with a golden face.
“Feyre, you okay? You have to take your medicine—if you don’t, you’ll get sick.”
“I’m fine, Ilysim. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m a worrier. Can’t help it.”
Red light filled the room. The pounding in my head receded and my eyes fluttered open. I looked to my hands, which were the source of the red light.
My matching tattoos—my High Lady one, and mine and Rhys’ bargain—were no longer the midnight blue ink that they once were. No, they glistened dark red—with hints of a brighter red—like blood.
Mor’s hand was clasped to her mouth, her eyes wide and confused. Rhys returned with a healer, who carried many materials with her, including a silver tray of medical instruments.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the tray, so when she got close I took the tray from her. I emptied the instruments by my feet and looked into the tray’s glossy, metallic surface.
My skin was pale, my hair was a darker brown, my eyes a ruby red. I bared my teeth, which felt heavier, and recoiled at the sight of silver—no, iron fangs.
I dropped the tray.
Good morning, my lovely monster.
And roared.
It’s not very good but hey, I tried. Thanks for reading.
13 notes · View notes