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#rhy’s water bottle
tocertaindeathwego · 1 year
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me @ every fandom creator
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[alt text: screenshot of rhy’s darby’s instagram story featuring a motivational quote sticker on his water bottle. he is presumably in his trailer on the set of our flag means death season 2. the quote reads “you’re criminally talented, we should arhyst you”]
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 5 months
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He gave us another one 😍🥰🥹 Insta: rhysiedarby
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mxmollusca · 1 year
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I love him your honor.
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tulipstogether · 5 months
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has anyone seen this?
he is so precious HHH
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readychilledwine · 2 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
General Taglist:
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
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bat-boys · 1 month
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besotted
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff
summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.
a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.
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Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.
A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 
As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 
"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 
"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 
"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 
"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."
This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.
"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 
You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 
"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 
"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 
"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 
"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 
"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.
You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 
"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 
"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 
"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 
"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.
"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 
As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 
"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.
"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 
"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 
"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.
"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 
"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."
"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 
The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 
A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 
With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 
The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  
"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 
You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 
"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 
"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 
"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 
"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 
"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.
"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.
"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 
A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 
Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 
You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 
A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.
"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 
"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 
"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 
"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 
Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 
"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 
"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 
"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 
"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 
You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 
"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 
"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 
"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 
"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 
"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."
"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.
"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 
"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.
"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 
"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 
931 notes · View notes
azsazz · 3 months
Text
Lips of an Angel (Part 4)
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the song ‘Lips of an Angel’ by Hinder. Azriel left you for Elain. After finding out that he has a child he didn’t know about, he’s furious.
**Daddy!Az AU**
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1,805
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
_________________________________________
The glass in his hand is empty again, the bottle next to it too. 
Azriel sits at his desk, thinking about everything that has led up to this very moment: nursing the wounds he’d amassed from Rhysand as well as the full liquor bottle that he kept hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk in a secret compartment where Elain would never notice.
His left eye is swollen shut and throbbing. Bruises and cuts litter his body from the brawl he’d had with his High Lord in his office only an hour ago, over his ex and the fact that she’d had a child and never told him about.
The High Lord still packs a pretty good punch, he thinks as he shifts to pull open another drawer. His entire body aches with each movement but the alcohol has made it a touch easier. He’s burned through most of the bottle with his anger, but he could’ve sworn he had shoved another bottle in there somewhere.
Elain hasn’t arrived yet and he hopes that she doesn’t. Hopes that she doesn’t walk into his home with her striking smile and eager aura. Right now what he needs is to be alone. Alone with his thoughts, in the dark, silent and nurturing like they were when he was a child and his father trapped him in the dungeons.
The age his child is now. Wren. His chest aches an insurmountable amount when he thinks of the child, so much like him despite having never met. Eyes so strikingly similar to his own that Azriel knows you think about him everytime you look at your son. With tiny wings to match and the most stoic face he’s ever seen on a child, there was no doubting that Wren was his.
But you hadn’t even denied it when he asked, couldn’t, and that made him all the more angry at himself. That he had pushed you so far away from him, had hurt you so badly that you didn’t even tell him he had a child? That you had gone so far as to tell the High Lord and the rest of his family but not him?
“I deserved to know about my child,” he screamed into Rhysands face. The bellow was followed by a blow to his jaw, his bones reverberating beneath his skin from the force of it. It had been a long time since they’d come to blows like this, not training, but actually fighting. Azriel thinks the last time they’d had a real argument that had led to injuring each other like this was when they were still learning in the camps and Cassian and Rhysand had teased him, pushed him to his brink before accepting him into their found family.
“And you could have,” Rhys spits back, the utter fury in his voice shaking the paintings on the walls. The High Lord’s power had unleashed then, slamming Azriel back into the wall. His head crashed into the plaster with a harsh thunk and when he blinked the spots from his vision Rhysand was already pouncing towards him, ringed-fist raised. “We all put it together before you ever made a move on Elain. The signs were right there! Think about it! They were right in front of your fucking face and you didn’t even care.”
“Gods,” Azriel groans. He’s been leaning over his chair for far too long and the broken rib his brother had given him makes it hard to breathe.
But Rhysand had been right, all of the signs were there, he was just too infatuated with finding a mate that he overlooked them.
When you’d started having dizzy spells and he’d passed it off as you not drinking enough water, or when you’d told him you missed your cycle, he remembers that like it was yesterday and curses himself for being so dimwitted. 
All of the times you’d tried to cuddle up to him or kissed him just the way he liked but he still pushed you away because it had felt wrong to kiss you back when Elain was standing right over there. He was so busy chasing after Feyre’s middle sister that he didn’t notice your scent shifting, thinking you were coming down with a sickness that would keep you in bed for a day or two so he could have some time with Elain and didn’t have to worry about you finding out.
It was all right fucking there, and he hadn’t been able to see it.
Even when he’d come home to find you sitting in the guest room one night. The door had been cracked open and you’d been sitting on the edge of the bed looking around the room with a look on your face he hadn’t even cared to decipher, but he remembers it now. It was awe, excitement as you clutched your belly, probably thinking to yourself how exciting it was going to be to decorate a room for the babe growing in your belly. But all Azriel had done was pass it off as you starting to realize the distance he was forcing between the both of you and maybe you had decided to sleep in there that night instead of the room you shared.
There is no denying that he’s fucked up. Fucked up to the point of never finding love again. He realizes in this moment how badly he’s treated you, treated the little boy that dons his face and doesn’t even know him. Wren already thinks that Malik is his father, and with the way that the fae male looks Azriel can’t blame him. While you clearly had a type, your current boyfriend doesn’t seem to be as broody or cruel to you as he’d been.
Azriel sighs, saddened by the lack of alcohol he’s hidden in his desk, and sits in self-pity instead.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Azriel wipes his hands on his pants because truly, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.
Sitting across the table from you, Malik, and Rhysand was not something he’d ever thought he’d be doing. Let alone being in the same room as you again.
And fuck, you’re as gorgeous as he remembers, even with the guarded way you’re sitting, arms crossed over your chest and your mouth set into a firm line as you stare him down like it’s not fucking burning you up to see him as much as it is for him to see you. 
Rhysand looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. They’ve both healed up due to the nature of their fae healing, but his brother’s glare makes Azriel want to allow the shadows curling around his ankles to shroud him behind their blackness.
And Malik. Malik is here, with his arm around the back of your chair. He’s slid his own closer to yours for comfort, and even the cheerful male he’d seen with his son doesn’t seem so joyful right now. His straight brows are drawn and he keeps glancing over at you in concern. 
Azriel can’t even find it in himself to hate the male. The one who’s taken care of you, of his son all of these years he’d been so oblivious. He wants to hate him with the fires of a thousand autumn fires, but, after the way that he’s treated you, he can’t help but to feel a little bit grateful for the male.
Wren hadn’t joined you, of course not. Feyre had taken him and Nyx down into the Rainbow for an afternoon art class followed by the most ice cream they could even imagine. Normally, you wouldn’t allow Wren so many sweets, but he’s been more than stressed lately with the information of seeing his birth father, and you’ve been trying to help him work through his own feelings on the matter.
Feyre even helped place Wren into an art therapy course with one of her good friends. Everett owns the studio next door and you’ve heard nothing but the best about the therapist. She’s been a light in Wren’s life as of late, and he seems to be responding well to the therapy. So well that he’s mentioned he might be open to meeting Azriel one day.
Today is not that day.
He doesn’t know what to say. His throat is clogged with years worth of emotions. Azriel prides himself on his cool, calm exterior, but right now, there’s none of that front on display. His palms are slick with sweat, leg jerking up and down to try and dispel some of the anxiety wracking his body. It’s no use at all.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he starts, and it’s more than a little awkward. He watches you and Rhysand share a glance and deflates in his chair. He’s more than a fucking prick.
“I’m not doing it for you,” you start, and he’s never heard your voice so cold. “I’m doing this for Wren.”
Azriel looks up at the sound of his son’s voice. There’s a hopeful note in his golden eyes that you don’t want to diminish, even if there’s still a sting as you’re reminded when his eyes had lit up like that at the sight of you. Your hands fall from where they’re crossed across your chest as the dread settles in, and you can’t seem to fight the tingling of your sinuses. You don’t love him anymore, but seeing him so often after years spent apart brings the feelings of everything he had done right back. 
Sensing your shifting emotions, Malik drops his hand from the back of your chair to your lap, threading his fingers through yours. Azriel’s shadows relay the way that you cling to his hand tightly, and he shifts in his seat.
He watches the way that your eyes go glossy, unfocusing from his and he knows that Rhysand is speaking to you, mind-to-mind. Azriel is sure that his brother is doing his best to reassure you, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. It should have been him reassuring you. It should have been him by your side all of this time.
Just the thought of Elain pains him. Everything that he has fucking done to you because he thought that he wanted her plays over and over and over again in his head. He will never forgive himself for any of this, but the road to making things up to you, up to his son, starts now.
Rhysand takes the reins of the conversation, and Azriel doesn’t like the way that he’s looking at him like any one of his courtiers, hands folded together as they sit on the table. 
He’s even wearing his crown.
“Wren has decided that he wants to meet you. Properly, this time.”
The floor falls out from under Azriel’s chair.
754 notes · View notes
moviesismylife · 3 months
Text
Overprotective mate (Azriel x f!reader)
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Summary:
You offer Azriel a place at your house, to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s lust. You get injured on a mission for Rhys, and Azriel goes all mother hen mode.
Warnings:
Mentions of intimacy
Blood, injury
Mentions of alcohol
Tropes:
Who did this to you?
Friends to lovers
Note:
Hey lovelies, this is my first fic on here, so please be nice. I really enjoy writing and drooling over fictional characters, and I know you do too. So let’s feed our delusion together. I know y’all are thirsting over Azriel as much as I am.
Enjoy x
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n
I knock on Nesta and Cassian’s door, clothed in my fighting leathers.
The door knob twists and the door freaks, as I spot Nesta’s head poking through the door.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks as he opens the door fully.
“Coming to see you, and also to talk to Azriel about something” I tell her.
She steps aside to let me in, and I do. The door closes behind me, and the warmth of the house hits my body.
My back is facing her, so she walks around me to face my front.
“Sorry about the mess, I was going to clean it up, but I got a little distracted” she says, a hint of a smirk on her lips.
“Okay ew, I did not need to know that” I say, making a disgusted face, and she just chuckles in response.
“Nes who’s here” a male voice says, as it enters the hallway we’re standing in.
“Cassian” I say smiling at him.
“Y/n!” He squeals, and runs over to hug me.
He lifts me off the floor easily, and spins me around.
I laugh, as I hug him back.
He lets me down, and stands next to Nesta.
“Where’s Az?” I ask them both.
They look towards the living room, and I take that as a hint.
I leave my weapons in the hallway, and head into the living area.
As I enter I can’t spot him, but I hear some noises coming from the kitchen, so naturally I head towards them.
When I enter, I spot Azriel with his back to me.
He has a towel slung over one of his shoulders, and the water is running in the sink. He’s clothed in his Illyrian fighting leathers, sculpting his body like a god.
“You just got done with your morning workout?” I ask, to make him aware of my presence.
He turns around, not at all startled, and just leans against the counter.
“Y/n. What are you doing here?” He asks, as he sips from the water bottle he must have been filling up.
Fuck he looks insanely good. His hair is damp from his workout, and his cheeks are slightly tinted. His skin is glowing from the sweat, but he still manages to smell absolutely divine.
“I’m actually here to talk to you” I say, as I place my elbows on the kitchen isle in front of me, leaning forward.
“Okay…about what?” He asks me, putting down his water bottle.
“Well I have an offer for you” I tell him.
“What kind of offer?” He questions.
“To come live with me, instead of the two horndogs you’re living with right now” I answer him.
He raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“Look I have a spare room in my little cottage on the edge of the city, and I’m barely ever home. So do you need somewhere private and quiet to stay, my place is open” I explain to him.
“Oh uhm, are you sure?” He asks.
Honestly I’m kind of shocked he’s agree so quickly. I mean I would want to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s fucking too, but I expected him to mull it over more.
“Yeah of course. It’s no trouble. Besides as I said, I’m almost never home, so you’d basically have the place to yourself” I tell him.
“That’s generous of you, but I would have to talk to Nesta and Cassian about it first” he says, as he puts his towel down on the counter.
“Yeah, no of course” I say, and he gives me a slight nod, before walking off to find them.
*about 15 minutes later*
“Why do you have to leave us Az? I liked having you here” Cassian whines, as me and Azriel are standing in the hallway, ready to leave.
“It’s okay babe, we’ll have the house all to ourselves now” Nesta grins at him.
That makes him shut up, and grin back.
I roll my eyes and pick up my weapons.
“You’ll be free to visit anytime” I tell them both, and they nod at me.
“Okay you ready?” I ask Azriel, as I offer up my arm.
He links his in mine, and I winnow us out.
——————
We land in my own hallway, and I let go of his arm.
Again, I put my weapons down, and he does as well.
“Okay, you want me to show you around?” I turn to look at him.
He just nods. Not exactly a man of many words.
I walk left and into the living room.
“Okay, so here is the small living area, and in there is the kitchen” I say, pointing to an archway leading from the living room.
Then I walk back into the hallway.
“That door leads to a small bathroom” I hint to the door on the right.
“Okay that’s everything downstairs, so let me show you upstairs” I start walking up the stairs.
I can hear him following me as I lead us both up to the second floor.
As we reach the top of the stairs, there is a little hallway, with several doors on each side.
“Okay so uhm, this door leads into my room, and a private bathroom that connects with it” I say as I hint for the door on the left.
I walk in a little further, until I reach the first door on the right.
“And it’s basically the same in here, but you can feel free to explore it yourself” I continue.
He just nods in understanding.
I walk further until I reach two glass doors. I open them and walk out into a little balcony.
“So this is just a little comfort place, but I mostly use it for reading, drinking, and a landing spot for when I fly in” I explain to him.
Then I turn around to face him.
He’s just looking around him, studying everything.
“Okay well, I have to leave, but I’ll be back sometime tonight. I’ll try not to make a sound” I say, and he snaps his head to mine.
Again he just nods, and I take that as a hint for me to leave.
I turn around to walk back into the house when he speaks.
“Y/n?”
I turn around again to face him.
“Thank you” he smiles softly.
“Of course” I smile warmly back, before turning back around again, and walking into the hallway.
*hours later*
I winnow into my room, and land on the floor with a thud. I try to be more quiet as I stumble back steadily on my feet.
The wound on my hipbone is throbbing, and I need to attend to it now.
I promised Azriel I’d be quiet when I returned home, but I’ve not done so well this far.
I make my way over to my bathroom, grabbing some rubbing alcohol and a cloth. Then I stumble back into the bedroom, and take a seat on the bed.
I drop my weapons and every other thing I was carrying on the floor, as I try to unbutton my corset.
Fuck why does it have to be so difficult. I try not to moan out in pain, as my wound keeps on throbbing.
I was attacked by several water wraiths on my mission for Rhys. And I made my way out fine, except for the open wound on my hipbone.
But luckily I achieved what I wanted, and I was able to retrieve the item he sent me for.
Although that would be no help if I couldn’t deliver it to him in the morning. And right now, by the looks of the wound, I needed some serious healing.
There was some kind of poison in my wound and I’d try to extract it with my magic, to no avail.
I’d have to go to a healer tomorrow, but now I just wanted sleep.
I finally pull off my corset, and throw it on the floor, as I lift up my white linen shirt to get better access to the wound.
I grab the cloth and rubbing alcohol, pouring some on it, as I press the cloth to my flesh.
I scream in pain, as the alcohol connects with my open and fresh skin. Blood is already dripping everywhere, and I bite down on my lip to refrain from screaming again.
The last thing I want is to wake up Azriel.
The someone bursts through my door.
“Y/n!” Azriel says panicked, as he flings the door open.
I snap my head to him, and curse myself for waking him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” I apologize as he heads over to me.
“What happened?” He asks, avoiding my apology.
He bends down in front of me, and kneels as he takes a look at my hand pressed firmly on my wound.
“Let me see it” he demands, as he looks up at me.
“No I’m fine. Go back to bed” I argue, as I wave him away.
“There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you like this” he curses, and I’m shocked at his sudden angry tone.
He notices and softens, as he speaks again.
“Just let me help you” he pleads, looking into my eyes, and I give up.
I raise my hand and cloth from the wound, revealing to to him.
“Who did this to you?” He ask as he removes the cloth slowly from my hand.
I let him.
“Water wraiths” I answer, as he moves his hand to my shirt.
He lifts it slightly higher, and I shiver as his fingers grazes my skin lightly.
He looks up into my eyes asking for permission to tend to my wound.
I just give him a slight nod, and he presses the cloth carefully onto my skin again.
I wince, as I grab onto his shoulder in reaction.
He cleans the wound thoroughly, and patches me up. He even uses some of his own magic to soothe out the pain.
As he’s finished I immediately feel relief wash over me.
“You’re gonna have to see a healer tomorrow” he says a he takes the alcohol and cloth into the bathroom.
“I will. After I talk to Rhys” I tell him.
“He sent you on this dangerous mission?” He questions as he turns around to walk back into my bedroom.
I don’t answer him, and use my magic to change from fighting leathers into a simple nightgown.
I let my hair stay in the messy braid it already is, before I crawl into my bed.
“Goodnight Azriel, and thank you” I say as I get comfortable.
He sighs and heads over to my door. He halts before walking out.
“Anytime you need me, I’m here. No matter what it is” he says, and I don’t get to respond before he vanishes out of my room, closing the door behind him.
I try not to think about it, as I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to pull me in. And eventually it does.
*next morning*
I open my eyes to sunlight beaming through my curtains. I shift to sit up in my bed.
As I lift my nightgown, I notice that my wound has worsened overnight. Although the throbbing sensation isn’t as bad as it was last night. Thanks to Azriel.
I get out of bed, and pull on some pants, as well as a red loose linen shirt, also pulling on a pair of simple black boots.
I look in the mirror to spot my hair a mess, so I take out the braid, and twist my hair into a messy bun, using a large hair pin to secure it.
Then I decide to head downstairs.
As I walk down, I hear some grumbling and clinking of metal, sounding from the kitchen.
I walk into the living room, and further into the kitchen, where I spot Azriel, cooking food.
That’s something I never thought I’d see.
He must notice my presence, because he turns his head slightly to the side, sliding his eyes over my body.
I can’t help but feel tingles as he roams his gaze over me.
“You feeling better?” He asks as he turns his head back around.
I debate whether I should tell him about the spreading of the wound or not. But I do, as he’s probably gonna demand to see it anyways.
“A little yeah, your magic helped a lot with the pain. But the poison has spread” I say, sitting down at the small kitchen table.
“Let me see it” he demands as expected, turning his full body around to face me.
I sigh, and lift up my shirt to the expose the infected wound.
He curses under his breath, and strides over to where I’m sitting.
“I’m gonna kill Rhys for letting this happen to you” he says angrily.
“Az it’s fine. I chose to go. Rhys didn’t force me” I explain to him.
“You got hurt y/n. Badly” he looks into my eyes.
He’s standing in front of me, making me look up at him.
“I told you, I’m fine” I say again.
He lifts my chin up slightly, placing a hand under it.
“I’m coming with you to the town house” he says and walks away, back to whatever he’s cooking.
I sigh, knowing I won’t be able to stop him. If he wants to come, he’s gonna come.
——————
Me and Az are standing in the living room in the town house with Rhys.
“Why did you let her leave when you knew how dangerous it was?” Azriel asks Rhys mad.
He’s been cursing out Rhys for the past five minutes now, for letting me go on a mission with him. I’ve been trying to stop Az but he won’t listen to me.
“Azriel. She wanted to go herself. And I’m sorry she got hurt. But you can’t put this on me” Rhys says calmly, trying to reason with Az.
“I don’t fucking care! This IS your fault! If it was Feyre that got hurt, how would you have reacted then huh?” Az argues, but Rhys is just standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Do not bring Feyre into this” Rhys warns.
“Bring me into what?” A soft voice asks from behind.
We all turn our heads to spot Feyre, Mor, Nesta and Cassian all standing in the hallway, looking at us.
“It’s nothing guys…” I try to tell them.
“Then why does Azriel look like he’s gonna rip Rhys’s head off?” Cassian asks confused.
I sigh heavily, taking a deep breath.
“Rhys sent y/n on a dangerous mission and almost got her killed. And then he doesn’t even care” Azriel explains to them, and they all turn their heads to Rhys.
“He’s being over dramatic. Y/n wanted to go herself” Rhys tries to explain calmly to the others.
“Over dramatic? Have you seen her fucking wound?” Azriel curses, very angry.
Everyone looks shocked at Azriel’s swearing. He’s the quiet type, and rarely gets angry in front of others. Especially angry with us.
“Az…please calm down..” I say breaking the silence.
“I won’t calm down when you could have died y/n” he yells at me.
“Why are you yelling at me? I’m just trying to talk to you” I answer a little annoyed at him for yelling at me, when it’s Rhys he’s actually angry with.
He doesn’t answer and just tries to steady his breathing instead. Then Cassian walks over to me.
“Let me see your injury y/n…” he tells me quietly, to not trigger Azriel.
I lift up my shirt to show the infected wound, spreading more and more over my body.
He slaps his hand over his mouth, as he looks at it, and the girls run over to see how bad it is. They too look scared as they inspect the wound.
“Rhys this is not a normal wound. I think she’s been poisoned” Feyre says as she looks at her mate.
He walks over to me to see it for himself, and raises his eyebrows in shock as he sees it.
“Fuck. I’m sorry y/n. I shouldn’t have let you go on that mission for me” he apologizes.
“No it’s fine, I wanted to myself” I tell him, and he gives me an apologetic smile.
“Azriel please don’t be mad at him for this…” I say as I look over at him.
“Az come on man…we’ll take her to a healer” Cassian adds as well, trying to get his attention.
I sigh, moving away from the others and walking over to him.
He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and I move my hands to them, to untuck his tight grip.
As I touch his arms, he rests a little into me, letting me touch him.
“You promised you’d go with me to the healer…” I say at a desperate attempt to get his attention.
Finally he looks up at me.
“Fine. But we’re leaving now” he agrees, but doesn’t show any emotion.
The others don’t say anything as he strides to the front door to leave as fast as he can.
I wait to follow him, turning my attention to the others.
“I’ll talk to him alright? He’ll be fine, he just needs to calm down” I tell them.
They nod their heads, and I move the front door, to leave with Az.
——————
We arrive at the healer, and a kind fae named Victoria inspects my wound.
I am sitting on a medical bed, while Azriel is standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest.
“Your wound has been poisoned” Victoria says as she touches my skin slightly.
“Yeah we kind of figured that part out ourselves” I joke slightly.
She touches my wound and I wince.
“I’m sorry” she says, pulling away.
“It’s fine, just help me please” I say, stealing a quick glance over at Azriel.
His face is blank, watching every movement.
Victoria walks over to a little table, grabbing some herbs and medicine, before walking back over to me.
“I’ll put these herbs on your wound, and it should heal in about a week. I will also give you these pills for the pain. And I would highly advise you to take it slow, and not do anything to livid, so it can heal faster” she tells me, putting the herbs on the infected wound.
I nod my head in understanding.
“I’ll be careful, and postpone any energetic exercises until it’s fully healed” I tell her.
She smiles warmly at me.
“Should anything go wrong, you come to me alright?” She asks as she bandages up my wound again.
“Of course” I smile at her, standing up from the bed.
I walk over to the door and Azriel follows me.
“Oh and remember to change your bandage daily” she adds quickly, and I nod again, before walking out of her little office.
Me and Azriel walk into the sunny streets of Velaris, and a light breeze blows by.
“See I told you it was fine” I say, trying to lighten Azriel’s mood.
“You got lucky” he answers coldly, and I roll my eyes.
“Are you still in a mood? Stop being so over dramatic” I say as I turn to look at him.
“I’m not over dramatic. I’m just being protective. I hate seeing you hurt” he tells me and I feel my heart jump a beat at his words.
“Well I’m glad you care about me Az, but I don’t want you to flip out on everyone because I got hurt” I say, as I cross my arms over my chest.
He doesn’t say anything, and just looks down at the ground in silence.
I sigh.
“Can we go back to the town house now? And can you please promise me that you won’t stay mad at Rhys?” I ask him, and he looks up at me.
“I promise to try” he answers me, and I sigh in defeat, knowing that’s the best answer I’ll get.
Then we walk back, heading towards the town house.
——————
“We’re back!” I yell as we enter the town house.
I take off my shoes and coat and walk into the living room, where I find all of them chatting amongst themselves.
“Y/n how’d it go?” Rhys asks as Azriel comes up behind me.
“It went fine actually. The nurse put some herbs on my wound to kill the poison, and some pills for the pain. But it should be healed in about a week” I say smiling softly at him.
“That’s great y/n” Feyre tells me, and I smile at her too.
Rhys looks at Azriel staring behind me, and guilt flashes his face.
“Az…can we please squash it. It’s my fault I know. I shouldn’t have sent y/n on that mission” he says, looking at Azriel.
I hear Az sighing behind me, placing a gentle hand on my back, before speaking.
“Just don’t do it again” he says, accepting Rhys’s apology.
Rhys smiles contently.
Then I spit Cassian looking at the hand Azriel’s placed on my back, and he smirks.
Azriel notices Cassian too, and immediately pulls his hand back.
Cassian just chuckles at his reaction.
“Why don’t we go to Rita’s tonight? I think we all need it” I suggest.
“Can you drink with your injury?” Mor asks looking at me.
“Yeah as long as I don’t drink too much I should be fine. Tell you what I’ll be the responsible parent tonight” I answer.
“You know I could actually get down for that” Feyre agrees.
“Me too” Nesta adds.
“Me three” Cassian says, agreeing with everything his mate says.
The others nod in agreement as well.
“Okay great. We leave in thirty” I say, and walk towards the stairs, to go upstairs and get ready.
——————
I’m wearing a short, black, backless glitter dress, with some black heels. I’ve got my hair hanging down in loose waves, and some golden hoops in my ears.
I head downstairs to where the others are standing. Mor is wearing a red, satin, slit dress. Feyre is wearing a midnight blue, strapless dress. And Nesta is wearing an all black one, with long sleeves.
All the guys are clothed in the same black dress pants and shirts. The top buttons undone to show their muscular chests.
”Mor I love your dress” I smile at her.
“Thanks babes. You look hot ” she winks back.
“Yeah you look beautiful y/n” Azriel adds as well.
I look at him, kind of surprised at this sudden compliment. The others have the same reaction, as they look between us.
“Thanks Az…” I say awkwardly.
Feyre spots the obvious tension, and decides to interfere”
“Let’s go shall we?”
Rhys nods his head and opens the door, and we all leave.
——————
Azriel
I watch y/n as she dances and laughs with the other girls. She looks absolutely stunning, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.
I should have never anything earlier, although she didn’t seem to bother.
“Hey Az…you might wanna avert your gaze somewhere else for a while” Rhys says from beside me, in our little booth.
“What” I turn to look at him.
“You’ve been watching y/n like a hawk for the last thirty minutes now” he answers, smirking a little.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, even though I know he’s right.
“Az you’re completely eye fucking her” Cassian says as well, and I roll my eyes.
“I am not” I snap at him.
“Whatever you say” he grins.
I roll my eyes at him again, standing up.
“Where are you going?” Rhys asks confused.
“To get a drink” I answer shortly, and stride for the bar.
Y/n
“I’m tired can we sit down?” Feyre asks as another song comes on.
“Yeah I’m tired too” Mor adds.
“Yeah okay” I say, and we walk out of the crowd.
I head towards our little booth, where Cassian and Rhys are both sitting. No Azriel though.
“Hey, you guys done already?” Cassian asks as Nesta sits down next to him.
“You try to dance for an hour straight” she snaps at him, and he just laughs, placing a hand on her thigh.
“Hey where’s Azriel?” Feyre asks, taking a seat next to her mate.
Mor moves next to Feyre and I move next to Nesta.
“He said he was getting a drink, but he’s been gone for a while now” Rhys answers, looking out in the crowd for him.
“Azriel never drinks” I say, as I take a sip of Cassian’s from the table.
“Hey” he snaps at me, but I just glare at him.
“Maybe you should go looking for him y/n” Nesta says, looking at me.
“Why me?” I ask her.
“Because no one else wants to” she answers shortly.
“Fine…” I sigh, and get up.
I walk over to the crowd again to see if I spot him. I try to look over all the dancing bodies, but I can’t see him. Instead I take a quick look over at the bar, but I don’t find him there either.
I stand up on my tiptoes, searching for him, when I feel a pair of two large hands on my waist.
I turn around quickly, to find two drunken hazel eyes staring at me.
“Azriel” I say in surprise, as he’s standing very close.
We’re in the middle of the crowd, with several sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making very little space for us.
He keeps his hands on my waist, while trailing his eyes all over my body. I blush slightly at his gaze, but try to hide it.
His grip tightens, and he pulls me into him, making my hands go to his chest in support.
Then he angels his head, moving his gaze to my lips. His fingers trace the bare back that’s not covered by my dress, and I slightly shiver.
“Azriel what are you doing…” I say lowly, as his fingers trail over my bare skin.
He doesn’t respond and instead moves his head to my ear, whispering.
“You look beautiful my love…”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks again at his words.
“You’re drunk” I respond slowly.
“I still think you’re absolutely divine” he speaks again and I don’t move.
He moves away from my ear, only for his face to be inches from mine.
My breathing gets heavy and I struggle to keep eye contact. What is happening to me?
“We should head back to the others…” I tell him.
“Should we?” He questions, looking at my lips again.
“Yes…” I breathe out, pulling away from him hesitantly.
He lets go of me, and I turn away, walking away from the crowd once again.
I can feel him following me, so I don’t stop.
As we reach our booth, the others turn to look at me. And Azriel, who comes up next to me, placing a hand on my waist.
“I see you found him” Rhys says, gazing towards the hand on my waist.
“Uh yes I did” I respond, moving to sit next to Nesta again.
“I can’t believe I’m even saying this. But is Azriel drunk?” Mor asks, grinning a little, as she looks at him.
“Mhm…” I nod in reply.
Her grin turns even wider, and I see the others mouths turning up as well.
Then Azriel decides to move next to me, despite the also empty spot next to Mor, and sits down.
He doesn’t seem embarrassed, as he moves as close as possible to me.
I shift in my seat nervously, as his body heat and scent radiates onto my own.
“Hey buddy, why are you clinging to y/n so much huh?” Cassian asks, a wide smirk plastered on his face, and I glare at him.
“Yeah Az, please elaborate on this sudden infatuation with our dear friend y/n here” Mor adds, and I shoot her a glare too.
“What do you mean sudden…” Azriel responds shortly, as he turns his head to her.
Feyre and Mor gasp in shock, and Nesta chuckles as I blush badly.
“She’s so beautiful…” he mumbles, pushing some hair off my shoulder.
I sit completely still, as I feel his piercing gaze on me.
I hear Cassian struggle not to laugh his ass off, and I see the others grinning like hell.
“Hey Az…maybe we should go back” I say, turning to look at him.
“No don’t leave yet” Mor whines.
“No it’s fine, I’ll take him with me to my cottage. I promised to be the responsible parent right?” I say smiling a little.
“Maybe she’s right. I think Azriel needs to go to bed” Rhys agrees.
“Fine…” Mor sighs in defeat, and I smile a little.
Then I turn to Azriel again, moving to stand up. He rises from his seat, and I follow.
“Come on big guy…” I say as I link my arm in his and walk for the exit.
“Have fun!” Cassian winks and I flip him off.
The others laugh as I lead Azriel out of Rita’s.
——————
We arrive at my small cottage and I stumble us inside.
I flip off my heels and drag Azriel with me upstairs. Then I lead him into his bedroom and sit him on the bed.
As I try to walk away, he grabs my waist, pulling me in between his legs. I steady my hands on his shoulders in response.
He then rubs circles with his thumbs in soothing motion, and I tug my hair behind my ears.
His hands move up to my waist and up to my bare back again, pushing me closer to him. My thighs are touching his, and my hands have moved to rest comfortably on his neck and shoulders.
“I’m sorry for making you angry” he apologizes.
“I’m not angry Az” I answer him.
“You’re not?” He questions.
“No. I was annoyed with you, but not anymore” I tell him, as I move a hand to stroke his cheek.
He smiles slightly.
“Good”
One of his hands move to my neck, pulling it down towards his face. I follow his lead, leaning down.
He moves my face slowly towards his, before brining his lips to mine softly.
I’m taken back by surprise, but don’t hold back, as I get more comfortable. I decide to sit on his lap, and he immediately places his hands on my waist to keep me in place.
I kiss him passionately, keeping my hands on his face, to cup his cheeks.
But then I realize what I’m doing and pull away.
“Shit I shouldn’t have done that” I say, standing up from his lap.
“No y/n wait-“
“No you need to go to bed Azriel” I cut him off, striding towards the door.
“Y/n please” I hear him beg behind me, but I continue to walk out and into my own room.
When I get into my own bedroom, I shut the door closed, and throw myself on the bed.
I slip off my dress, and put an oversized t-shirt to sleep in. Then I force myself to go to sleep, pushing away all my feelings. And also the fact that Azriel is my fucking mate.
——————
I wake up and walk down into the kitchen. Azriel hasn’t woken up yet luckily.
I decide to grab some juice from the fridge, and drink straight from the bottle, before I hear steps entering the kitchen.
I don’t even turn around as his presence fills the room.
“Good morning…” he says quietly, heading over to where I’m standing.
“Morning” I respond shortly, not turning around.
He reaches the fridge and I turn around to face the counter, as he moves past me.
“Y/n about last night…I’m sorry” he starts to apologize.
“For what?” I ask boldly, my back still facing him.
“For leading you on, and making you kiss me. It was foolish of me” he admits, and I can feel him standing close.
“I wanted to kiss you” I say turning around, and leaning my back against the counter.
He only raises his eyebrows in shock and confusion.
“You were drunk, I just didn’t wanna take advantage of you” I continue, sitting up on the counter, my feet dangling off the edge.
My t-shirt is only long enough to cover my ass, so when I sit, it rises up my thighs. Azriel takes a notice of this and steals a glance at the bare skin of my thighs, before speaking.
“Well I appreciate that but uhm…actually I…” he stutters as he talks. Unusual.
“You what…” I urge for him to keep going.
He only walks closer to me, placing his hands on my thighs. I shiver at his touch, knowing his shadows can sense it.
“Say it Azriel…” I tell him as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“You’re my…” he hesitates.
I pull him closer to me, so our noses are barely touching.
“Mate” I finish for him, smashing my lips onto his.
He doesn’t think twice as his hands move to my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I keep my hands on his neck, running my fingers through his hair, as I kiss him passionately.
He’s so fucking good at this. His hands dig into my sides, and he opens his mouth, so I can slide my tongue in. And I do.
He kisses me more roughly, pulling and tugging at my shirt. His teeth graze my bottom lip as he slightly nibbles.
I pull away to catch my breath, only for him to crash his lips onto my neck instead.
I push my hair to one side, as he trails his tongue over my skin. Then he decides to start sucking instead. I let out a silent moan as he bites into my neck.
With that he pushes into me even more, making our lower abdomens graze each other.
“Y/n…” he groans, and I wrap my legs around his torso.
I pull his head up from my neck, so we’re face to face.
We make eye contact, and I move my hand to push some hair out of his face. Then I cup his cheeks, and lean in to place my forehead on his.
I close my eyes, and breathe in his scent and presence.
His hands rest on my hips, with my legs still wrapped loosely around him.
“I’m sorry…” he whispers.
I raise my head and open my eyes.
“For what?” I ask confused.
“For being such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt, but I definitely shouldn’t have lashed out like I did. It’s just that you mean the world to me. If you get hurt, I get hurt. If you die, I die” he answers.
I can’t help but feel bad for him. He’s genuinely hurting because of this.
“Azriel…you mean the world to me too. Believe me, I wouldn’t have held back if you got inured either. It just upset me that you didn’t listen to me when I told you it was fine” I say, stroking his cheek soothingly with my thumb.
“I know love…and I promise I’ll listen you next time. Can you forgive me?” He asks, regret shining his eyes.
“There is nothing to forgive…” I answer, leaning in slowly to give his lips a comforting kiss.
He doesn’t stop me as I kiss him. This time the kiss is not filled with lust and hunger, but pure love and longing.
As I pull away again, I keep my hands on his neck, and he keeps mine on my hips.
“Breakfast?” I ask him softly, trailing fingers through his hair.
“Mhm” he nods, and leans in to give another quick and loving kiss.
We both smile through the kiss, and I feel every part of my body relaxing at his touch.
——————
“You know we’re gonna get bullied for centuries for this?” I say, as I take a bite of my fried egg toast.
“Oh trust me I know…Cassian is going to be a big pain in the ass to say the least” Azriel replies, as he eats too.
“As long as I get to have you all for mysel” I say, a hint of seduction in my voice.
He just cocks an eyebrow at me knowingly, and I take another bite of my food.
“We don’t have anything important planned today right…” he asks, not looking up at me, as he sips his juice.
“No I don’t think so…why?” I ask curiously.
He just shrugs, and I give him a playful look.
“I’m glad you moved in here with me…” I say, finishing my food.
“Me too…” he trails off as he also finishes up.
I grab my plate and cup, heading over to the sink to wash it. I hear Azriel following me from behind.
As I wash my dishes, he comes up behind me, placing his own in the sink. I wash his too, as his hands start to roam my body.
Still wearing my t-shirt, he presses into my back, running his hands up my thighs. I can already fell my body aching for him.
I truly underestimated the whole mating thing. When Rhys and Feyre told me they basically fucked each other with no breaks for a week, I only laughed at them. But now I want nothing more than to let Azriel do the same to me.
As his hands smoothes over my bare skin, a shiver runs down my spine. He lifts my t-shirt up to my waist, exposing my underwear.
One of his hands trail under my shirt, up towards my breast, while the other goes to my ass.
I lean my head slightly back, closing my eyes. His lips move to the bare skin of my neck, licking and kissing.
When his hand finally reaches my breast, he cups it, running his finger smoothly over the already hardened nipple.
I let out a slight moan, as he touches the sensitive spot. He just smirks into my neck, as he starts to suck it.
My hands find their way to the counter, grabbing it harshly, my knuckles turning white.
I continue to let out several whimpers and slight moans, as his hand and tongue devour me.
Then his hips grind into my backside. His bulge grazing into my ass. With that we both let out loud moans.
——————
“I thought we had nothing planned today…” I breathe out as Azriel’s head in between my legs.
“We didn’t. But apparently Rhys did…” he murmurs into my skin.
“I’m gonna kill him” I say, thinking about the dinner we have to attend in one hour.
“Me and you both” Azriel agrees, before sliding his tongue into me, earning a loud moan.
——————
“Geez I can practically smell what you’ve been doing from over here” Cassian says, putting a hand over his nose jokingly.
Me and Azriel just landed in the front veranda of the House of Wind, all dressed up for the dinner Rhys insisted we have.
I shoot Cassian a death glare, bumping into him on purpose as I walk past him.
“For your own sake. Keep your mouth shut Cass” I hear Azriel tell him as he follows me inside.
Everyone is seated at the dinner table, all dressed up. I take a seat next to Nesta, Azriel sitting next to me. Cassian comes in a moment later, sitting himself beside his mate.
I suddenly notice everyone staring and grinning at me and Azriel. Of course they know. They’re our family.
“You enjoyed yourself today?” Rhys smirks widely.
“I will literally murder you” I threaten him, but he just laughs.
“Your bond is really fucking strong. It almost makes me dizzy” Mor adds, looking over at me and Azriel.
I knew the mating bond was strong, but not as strong as they’re implying.
“It enhances itself once it’s been fulfilled. That’s why we can sense it so easily” Amren explains, looking between me and Az.
“Well I wanna say congratulations y/n and Azriel. You both deserve it” Feyre smiles at us both.
She is way too kind to be mated with the arrogant, baby high lord, Rhys.
“Thank you” Azriel smiles slightly at her.
“So how did it all happen? What made you finally give in?” Rhys asks, as he pours himself some wine.
“Do you need to know all the details?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He just smirks at me, taking a sip of his drink.
“It was me” Azriel speaks up from beside me.
Everyone turns their heads to him, including me.
“What do you mean Az?” Mor questions.
“My stupid drunken ass kissed her when we got home from Rita’s” he tells everyone.
Several gasps echoes through the room. I myself let out a little sound of surprise.
“Damn Az…I don’t expect that. How did you handle that y/n?” Cassian asks me.
They’re all looking at me. Awaiting my response.
“I kissed him back. Only for a few seconds though until I got my shit together” I say.
“And then you just went to sleep?” Nesta ask confused.
I nod my head at her.
The other seem kind of confused as well, looking at us weirdly.
“And then when I woke up, I kissed her again. But she didn’t resist me that time” Azriel smiles proudly.
I roll my eyes, and hit him in the arm playfully. He just stifles a laugh.
“And then what…” Feyre asks intrigued.
Rhys raises his eyebrows at his mate’s sudden interest. But she just keeps her gaze on me and Azriel.
“And then the bond snapped together. I think you know what happens next…” I say, grinning a bit at the last part.
Azriel goes red out of embarrassment at my slight exposing. Cassian just throws his head back with laughter, and the others snicker as well.
“Well I just lost my appetite” Amren says, pushing her plate away.
“Please like you were gonna eat any of that anyways” Mor tells her, still kind of laughing.
Amren just rolls her eyes and glares at her, but Mor doesn’t seem a tiny bit bothered.
As the laughter quiets down, everyone starts pouring food onto their plates. Except for Amren. And the conversation flows back to other things.
Azriel puts his hand on my thigh, letting it rest there. And I don’t feel a tiny bit uncomfortable, as I let it stay there for the rest of the dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
502 notes · View notes
erissheiress · 6 months
Text
Lonely Anymore
The Inner Circle x Reader
Warnings: depression, mentions of feeling numb, mention of blood and crying, alcohol, platonic intimacy, mentioned Feyre, Elain and Nesta, reader doesn't like Nesta and Elain bc I dont lol. Repost from my main blog.
Summary: You need your family, and they need you.
Word count: 782
Taglist: 
* * *
The window was wide open, harsh gusts of wind blowing into the room, disrupting papers on the desk and blowing your hair into your face, stinging your skin and making your eyes water.
Yet, you hardly seemed to notice the biting cold that struck your skin, hardly flinching, or moving from where you sat on the armchair, legs folded and arms around your knees, hugging them close to your chest. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands, nearly drawing blood, but again, it attracted none of your attention.
Your eyes were dull, dark bags under your eyes, from exhaustion mostly. Tears had streamed down your cheeks earlier but not anymore, you simply had no tears left to give to the world, nothing more you could offer.
You had given this world your blood, sweat and tears, your love and your dreams, and in return it had given you the one thing you always lacked;
A family.
The Inner Circle.
It had started with Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor. Then Amren, then Feyre. Nesta and Elain joined then, though you didn't like them very much, but that was possibly because of how they treated your High Lady, and finally baby Nyx, the newest, and your favourite, member of the family.
So the world gave you a family, and a chance of being loved.
But that was never going to be all, was it? It seemed that the world wasn't quite finished with you yet
No, it gave you hate as well as love, fear as well as joy, pain as well as care. 
It caused your dreams to turn to nightmares, your hopes to failures, your youthful innocence to turn to hardened pessimism. 
You're not sure when you stopped feeling like you were part of the family, perhaps it was over Solstice? Solstice where you sat in the corner as Feyre and Rhys cuddled Nyx in front of the fire, as Nesta and Cassian playfully bickered while Azriel and Elain laughed at their banter, as well as Mor who happily danced in the centre of the room, swinging a bottle of wine around like a weapon.
And you.. you just sat there, nursing your own wine, suddenly feeling lonelier than you had ever felt before. As you watched them each be happy in their own ways, a weight settled on your chest, and had stayed there ever since.
You did your job, played an active role as a member of the Night Court, but distanced yourself as well. They didn't seem to notice, only little Nyx, who crawled onto your lap one evening and poked your cheek, a frown on his adorable face.
"Sad"
"I'm not sad, Nyxie."
But he only frowned even more. "sad" before planting a wet kiss on your chin. "Happy."
"Yes darling, your kisses make me very happy."
Babies were so easy to satisfy.
So now you sat alone in your room, on an uncomfortable chair, without warm clothes, while the winter air froze your body, yet not bothering you at all.
You didn't feel anything, just numb.
You didn't feel anything when the window closed suddenly, or when footsteps entered the room. 
You didn't feel anything when strong arms lifted you to your bed, or when calloused hands stroked your hair softly. 
Or when four other figures clambered into the bed with you, three Illyrian males and one female. 
You only felt something when the blonde smoothed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest expression you had ever seen on her face.
"We love you, you know that right?" and you felt it all of a sudden, like a wave of emotion. Overwhelming you completely. 
You'd learn later that Azriel lay closest to you, and it was him that carried you to the bed and held you so snugly, that it was Cassian who stroked your hair so softly and it was Rhysand who shut the windows, using his abilities to heat your frigid room. 
You'd learn all this later but for now you let it out like a burst dam, as you sobbed into Azriel's chest, three other pairs of hands comforting you in some way, the best way they could. 
Your family.
A 5th figure, a shorter female slipped in at one point, taking a protective position at the end of the bed, comforting you the only way she knew how, and was appreciated nonetheless. 
You loved Feyre, and Elain and Nesta were part of the circle now too, but for now you needed your first family, and they mentally vowed to spend as much time as possible convincing you that they needed you too. 
That they needed you, that they loved you, that you were important to them, and that they'd always be there for you.
That you didn't have to be lonely anymore.
417 notes · View notes
fanwarriorfictions · 16 days
Text
Not Again - Part Eight
Summary: It’s been nearly four days since Y/n had collapsed, and she still hadn’t woken. Azriel won’t leave her side, he can’t, no matter how worried his family is.
Warnings: none really, kind of a shorter chapter
Series Masterlist
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Another day had passed, Azriel refused to leave her room, he sat in the chair by her bedside and would not move no matter how much his family pestered him. Rhys had forced him to at least put some clothes on, but other than that, he’d stayed right at her bedside and spoke to her, feeling the pulse in her wrist flutter each time, feeling that evidence that she was still there. He read to her out of one of the books on her night stand, obvious gifts from Nesta. He struggled through some chapters, face warm, others he skipped entirely.
“Dinner is served,” Mor struts into the room, a tray balanced in her hands, “I can watch over her while you eat and take a damned bath.”
He frowns up at her, “I don’t-“
“Yes you do,” she sniffs pointedly, “You’ve been bed ridden for two days and haven’t bathed once since you woke. She won’t go anywhere, I promise.”
Azriel looks at the female in question, her lips were slightly turned down at the edges, like she could hear them and wasn’t happy to have him leave, “Fine.”
As soon as the word is out of him mouth, he hears running water in the attached bathroom, it seems the house was sick of him stinking up the place. He sighs, carefully standing up from the chair, shaking his head when Mor moved into casual reach incase he fell.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
“I don’t doubt that,” she sighs, rolling her eyes at him, “at least take the time to wash your hair.”
Azriel doesn’t respond as he closes the door behind him, sighing through his nose as he rest against it. There was this strange anxiety in him, even though Y/n was just on the other side of the wall. Watched over by one of his closest friends. The female he’d spent centuries believing he was in love with, and the female he, he didn’t know what it was he felt for. There was this feeling in him, this feeling of desperation when she’d been in danger, before that when she was about to leave him, when he’d seen her cry beneath the stars. Not love, gods he’d known her less than a week, but there was something, something there. A string of shadow connecting them together, one he refused to let go of. Whatever it was, he wonders if the swirling eddies of the cauldron, or the mysterious force of the Wyrd, that brought her here, right to him.
With Quinlann, it had been the blades, Gwydion and Truth Teller, calling to each other from across the stars. When she’d opened the portal between realms, they found each other. But with Y/n, there wasn’t a reason, there was no mysterious object, no intent. Simply a portal that had torn her from her home and thrown her into his path. He’d spent the last day pondering about it, about why exactly she was brought here, brought to him, and he’d come up with nothing but blanks.
Azriel forces himself to focus on the bath before him, to get in and out as quickly as possible so he could get back to her. The water was lukewarm, like the house knew he wasn’t ready to feel the heat. His bandages had been changed early in the day by Madja, the burn on his chest had been the worst of the damage, the imprint of Y/n’s shoulders burned into him from holding her to him. It would heal, there may be the faintest scar, a darker, rougher patch of skin. He found that he didn’t mind it, that he’d be left with that permanent memory of her, even when she finally found her way home.
He scrubs methodically, using the same lavender scented bar of soap on his hair and his body, not bothering with the bottles of soaps lining the edge of the bath. He submerges his entire body, wings included to rinse off, and he’s up and drying off quickly.
The house provides him with a comfortable set of black sleep clothes, loose fitting shirt to not irritate the burns. He dresses without thought, quickly buttoning the shirt around his wings as he moves towards the door.
“Record time,” Mor says as he walks into the room, “I’m surprised you bothered with a towel, instead of shaking out like a dog.”
He rolls his eyes, taking his seat beside Y/n. She hadn’t moved at all, he hadn’t expected her to, her lips would sometimes twitch in her sleep, but that was the only movement he’d seen.
“She’s not going to disappear,” Mor says gently, “You can rest for a while.”
Azriel knew that, knew that if he crossed the hall and collapsed into bed like his body begged him to do, she was would be right here where he left her. But he couldn’t do it, not until she was awake and he could see those eyes, see that insufferable smile, hear her soft accent. He was a desperate fool.
“I’m fine,” he says, “thank you for the food.”
Mor frowns, “I’m worried about you.”
“I know-“
“No I don’t think you do,” she snaps, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t know what happened between you two, I don’t want to know, but I can’t stand to see you fall apart over a female you hardly even know.”
“Nothing happened between us.” It’s the truth but somehow it feels like a lie on his tongue, “I don’t expect you to understand it, I don’t even understand it.”
“I’ve had lovers in the past, hell I pined after you for centuries.” Azriel doesn’t miss the way she flinches, he’d never actually said the words aloud, “but this is different, she’s just different. She’s not my lover, I don’t love her, I just- I don’t- When I saw her there, trapped in that spell, it felt like someone was carving my heart from my chest with a dull knife, hacking through skin and bones and ripping the thing out.”
He shudders, looking down at Y/n, whatever this was, gods he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, he just wanted her to wake up.
Azriel feels a slight pressure on his shoulder, Mor’s hand resting there in gentle reassurance, “She’ll wake up.”
“I hope so.”
Azriel wasn’t sure what exactly woke him up, the pain in his back from being slumped over in his chair, his shadows frantically swirling around him, or the hand that gently twines through his hair. His half asleep brain decides the feeling is very very nice and he almost goes right back to sleep.
“Are you alive over there, shadowsinger? It’d be a shame if you weren’t.”
That soft swirling accent washes over him like the warm surf of the summer court. It has him launching up out of his chair, eyes wide and staring at the female who sits up in the spot she’d laid for the past three almost four days. Her face was washed in silvery moonlight from the window, hair a tangled mess on her head, her eyes wide and warm with the fire in her blood, gods she was beautiful.
He’s surging forward before he can even think that it might be a bad idea. Her face is warm, soft between his scarred hands, and her lips feel like heaven as he crashes his mouth to hers.
Her hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and he could die right then and there. Their lips move in tandem, tongues and teeth clashing in desperation. He can feel her sharp canines, the way they drag on his lower lip, she could tear him to pieces with them and, Mother above, he would let her.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He pulls back just enough to growl against her, “Don’t you dare, princess.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, shadowsinger,” she grins against his lips, that insufferable little smile, “it’ll ruin your whole dark brooding warrior image.”
“Shut up.”
She barely has the time to laugh before his lips cover hers again. Azriel’s shadows writhe around them, pulling her closer and closer till she’s practically sitting in his lap. His hands grip her waist, so hard that he’s sure she’ll have bruises in the shape of them. Her hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands in a way that has Azriel purring. Everywhere she touched left him burning, burning with desire for more, more, more.
He’s moving, lips trailing across her jaw and down the side of her throat, he can feel her heart racing, maybe that was his own. Her head falls back, giving his better access to her throat. She lets out a breathless sigh when his teeth graze that sensitive spot, and Azriel wants to hear that noise again and again and again.
“Az,” she gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders like she’s trying to ground herself, “I, gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but hold on.”
It takes more effort than it should to pull away, to look into her eyes without begging her to let him keep going, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, this is amazing,” she sighs, “more than that. I just- I need a minute.”
Azriel sees that look in her eyes, that broken heart behind a wall of ice, “Whatever you need, princess.”
Her head falls, hiding, “I failed, Az. I- I did everything the books said, and I fucked it up.”
His heart squeezes in his chest, and he can’t help but to tug her into his arms. She collapses into him, face buried in the silk of his shirt and she cries. Those silent heavy tears, so Azriel holds her tight as she cries and cries and cries.
Y/n feels warm, safe, there’s a comforting weight across her waist, a hard wall behind her.
Her eyes open, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming through her window. It must be late morning, it had been the middle of the night when she’d woke, finding her hand clasped in Azriel’s, the male himself asleep in the most uncomfortable position possible.
When she’d seen him there, moonlight dancing over his features, she thought he was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. It felt like her hand moved on its own, raking through those black strands of hair, the slight curl to them tickling her palm.
She’d felt him stirr, felt the way he’d pushed into her hand like a cat seeking attention. It was incredibly cute, which is something she was sure had never been used to describe the spy master.
When he’d realized she was awake, when he’d looked into her eyes, she’d seen the utter desperation behind his whiskey eyes. And when his lips had fallen onto hers, she felt it too. He kissed like a man starved, like she was his last meal and he was going to savor every bite of her. He kissed her like she meant something, like she was worth worshipping. Gods she wanted him to do just that, to take her for all she was worth, to ravish her until she was screaming. But then his teeth had caressed the side of her neck, her pulse racing beneath, and she felt herself slipping, felt the memories slam into her, of the matching scars her parents wore proudly on their necks, of the burning words in her throat, of the spell that had taken control of her and had tried to swallow her whole.
She felt everything crashing into her all at once, and when Azriel had looked at her, nothing but understanding in his eyes, she broke. She must have cried herself to sleep, to be waking up near noon.
Y/n froze as the wall behind her shifted, a body, she realized, that weight across her waist, an arm. Azriel.
She glances over her shoulder, finding the sleeping male. He held her close, face tucked into her shoulder. He made no noise, just soft breathing, lips slightly parted. They were laying beneath the knitted blanket that was usually folded by the foot of the bed, like he hadn’t wanted to wake her to get her beneath the covers.
Y/n shifts, gently trying to lift his arm so that she could escape to the bathroom, but the second she tried, his arm tightens and she’s pulled back against his chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Gods spare her, his voice was deep and rasping in her ear. Her eyes look back over her shoulder and she’s met by those hazel eyes, still heavy with sleep. His gaze feels like a brand, like he was taking in all of her, like he was planning to claim her in every way possible.
“The bathroom preferably,” she says, throwing in as much snarky energy as possible to hopefully hide the way her face was heating.
He sighs, “I suppose that’s fine.”
“You suppose?” She scoffs, pushing the heavy arm still wrapped around her waist, “Let go of me you overgrown bat.”
He holds tighter for just a second, “You wound me, princess.”
“You’ll get over it.” She slips out from beneath his hold, “Keep your wandering shadows to yourself, I’m going to bathe, I smell like death.”
Azriel looks at her with predatory focus, resting on his elbows so he can look her up and down, “Hm, I hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep them out, I’ll be back.”
Azriel settles back into the pillows, eyes watching each step she takes into the room beyond. She can still feel his gaze when she shuts the door behind her, heavy and burning.
The bath is already filled with steaming water, clothes and towels laid out for her. She thanks the house quietly, slipping out of her tattered clothes and into that hot water.
Her head tilts back, a quiet moan slipping past her lips at the feeling, her body sore from whatever had taken control during the spell, and then even more from laying in bed for the past several days. She takes her time, washing every spot of herself to rid that scent of smoke. Her hair takes longer, tangled and brittle, she uses half the bottle of the sweet smelling soap.
All of her movements are precise, methodical, to keep her brain and hands busy. Because if she stops for to long, her mind is ripped back to that room, to the yawning portal of darkness, that presence on the other side beckoning, whispering, playing with her. What ever it was, ancient and cold, dark and cruel, she felt it reaching for her. And at the same time she’d felt another pull, one from behind, one begging her to stay, to let go of the gods damned book. A string, a lifeline, a way back. She’d cling to that, and let it pull her out.
But still, on the other side of that portal she heard a whisper, a voice young and old, pay the price, gods killer’s kin, pay the price.
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imaginesmai · 7 months
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Little secrets they have - Batboys headcanon
Trying something new here! Since I'm not really motivated to write for TV show characters, I've tried writing about book ones. What better way to start than with our batboys from Sarah J Mass, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel.
From now on, I take requests about them and about any of the SJM's characters (from throne of glass, crescent city and acotar). Let me know if you like it, and if you want more.
Plot: the batboys keep a small secret during your relationship, and you find about it.
Rhysand
It would take you a while to figure it out, because boy, does he hide it well.
But eventually, you two would be comfortable enough in your relationship for small secrets to come out.
You discover it during a small retreat to the cabin. Everyone has been really stressed in Velaris because of the upcoming Starfall, so you have decided to take a break in the cabin.
Usually, you go to be way earlier than Rhys, because he stays up working.
Or so he says.
Because in the cabin, there’s no way he can hide the extra bag he has bought with him that weights almost like your own.
You are already in bed, the fire is on and you’ve just finished one of the best sex you have ever have.
“Give me a second, darling. I need to do something”
Tired and happy as you are, you don’t give it a second thought until you find yourself falling asleep and he hasn’t come back.
So you get up, open the bathroom and find out about Rhysand’s little secret.
“I promise that I can explain. It’s not what it looks like”
“Is that mud?”
“It’s actually a clay mask”
The most powerful High Lord in Prythian is surrounded by skin-care products, his face soaked in a blue mask and his hair gathered up in a froggy-style bandana.
There are so many products around that you can’t see the sink or the toilet sink, and the bag on the floor shows you another bunch of them.
Suddenly, the softness of his face and the absence of any type of imperfection make sense. As it does the minutes you lay awake waiting for him when he tells you that he needs to finish something.
You stare at each other for a while, giving you enough time to consider turning around and going to sleep or actually talking about it.
Rhys beat you to it.
“It’s Mor’s fault. She told me I had a wrinkle, and then she bought a cream. And then another”
There weren’t just creams anymore. There were almost fifty small bottles of different colors, shapes and sizes.
Something started beeping and, without breaking eye-contact, Rhys bent over the sink and made enough space to start removing the clay mask with water.
After a few minutes, you discovered there was something absolutely amazing about watching your mate put on different products.
Rhysand noticed that you weren’t leaving and started talking about what he was using and what it was good for. He even let you try some of them in the back of your hand.
You both went to sleep without talking about it and next night he left the bathroom door open for you to join him.
Since that moment, it was kind of a tradition to do your skincare together. A cozy, domestic tradition that you repeated back home. And probably for the rest of your lives.
Cassian
You might have been too blind in your love to notice how loud he snores and the clothes he leaves hanging everywhere.
But when Cassian starts sneaking during the weekends with no explanation, you notice.
It starts as casual “hanging out with the boys, love” and “going for a run, gotta keep the abs firm”.
The boys don’t know what you’re talking about when you ask them about it and the sneakers he uses for running stay clean during the weekend.
You aren’t afraid of him cheating on you because the rest of the days he worships everything you do and kisses the floor you step in. Almost.
When Saturday comes around, though, he leaves for a few hours and comes back as if nothing has happened.
There are a few hypotheses you work with: that he’s stealing Rhy’s wine or Nyx’s sweets, that he’s secretly practicing for karaoke nights at Rita, or that he’s building and hiding snowballs for the annual fight.
None of them are proved right when you decide to walk through Velaris while he’s missing.
You’re walking near the Sidra when you hear a familiar, loud laugh. Then, you look up.
Through the window, you find Cassian where you least expected: surrounded by women, kneeling at their feet and letting them run their fingers through his hair.
The thing is, they aren’t the type of hands you expected.
They were wrinkled, and fragile, and their owners were just as.
“I told you! Renaldo was alive! Our man isn’t that easy to kill”
You look up to the name of the building.
Velaris Elderly Home
In a haze, you enter the place and continue watching Cassian.
Your mate is almost seven foot tall, his shoulders as wide as the TV on the room. His arms strong as steel and thick as trees branch.
And that giant warrior, that snaps enemies in a half and carries swords as heavy as you, is sitting on the ground, watching a novella while older women braid his hair.
Eventually, after realizing Cassian is not only behaving like one of them, he is one of them, he notices you.
His smile falls and the room seems to go colder.
Loss at words, you don’t know what to say until the women around him see you.
“Oh, that must be Y/N! You’re just as pretty as he says! Look at her, does our Cassian treat you well, honey? You better take care of that beautiful girl!”
“Are you hungry, darling? Do you want cookies? Get your girl a seat, lover boy!”
“Finally! We’ve been begging Cassian to bring you for a decade!”
Before you could register, two women grabbed both of your arms and dragged you inside. In a few minutes, you were sitting in a chair, TV long forgotten, surrounded by questions about Cassian.
You looked at him and noticed that he was nervous. About not telling you, about you finding out, about them asking you if he satisfied you in bed. Too stunned to comfort him, you smiled softly.
“Well, he does have a large wingspan”
Turns out that was the right answer, and suddenly you were part of the group. For almost an hour, you answered their questions and heard about this new part of Cassian.
Your mate, who spends his Saturday’s afternoons in the elderly home making them laugh. Who lets these women braid his hair, knit him scarfs and feed him expired cookies.
That night, while you walk home, you do it in silence, closer to Cassian than what you usually walk.
You arrive home in a comfortable silence until he speaks.
“Large wingspan, hm? I guess I am a great lover”
“Yeah, and a great gossiper. Bet you’ve been taking cues from Renaldo”
Cassian laughs and spends the night proving you how good he, not Renaldo, is in bed.
Azriel
As your mate, Azriel is the most honest and open person you have ever met.
You didn’t expect the Shadowsinger to be so close and frank with you, but as the years passed and your bond solidified, you discovered he was.
There is no miscommunication, no fights or disappointment. You talk it out, you share your emotions and take your time to fix things.
So, when almost fifty years after you discover he’s your mate, he doesn’t answer your question right away, you know he’s lying.
Lying to you, about something, and you couldn’t have imagined how sad that would make you feel.
He had missed dinner last night, and this morning, you had asked him before he left for work about it. Without looking at you, he had offered a quick apology and had told you that he was with Rhysand.
Who you had called last night to ask where Azriel was, and hadn’t known about it.
You spend the whole day thinking about it. And the more you think, the more dates you discovered.
That time he was late for Starfall. When he skipped Nyx’s birthday party. After your birthday, when he disappeared for a day.
Of course, being the spymaster he was, he had been able to hide it just fine. And it hadn’t been until this morning that you have caught up with it.
When he comes back, he finds you sitting in the couch with tears in your eyes.
You don’t want to think about it, but your mind keeps coming up with the possibility of cheating. Because, what else could be keep from you?
“Y/N, what’s wrong?”
It’s his voice, full of concern and love, that has you breaking down.
Azriel holds you while you cry, constantly stroking your hair and side. You finally blurt it out between sobs, shaking so hard he can hardly understand you.
“What – cheating? Dove, why would I cheat on you? I love you more than my own life. I would rather –“
“You lied, Az! I – Last night I talked to Rhys. You… you lied”
When he doesn’t say anything else, you actually consider that he cheated. That he’s about to leave you for some other girl. Before you can answer, he beats you to it.
“I… was at Rhys house. Not with Rhys, though. I’m sorry I lied to you”
“He told me –“
“He didn’t know I was there, because I was with Feyre”
Feyre, the new High Lady that you loved with all your heart and that has turned your lives upside down for the best. That has given you all a night court heir and almost lost her life in the process.
That is Rhysand’s mate and life, both of them in love just like you and Azriel.
Before you could develop further in your thoughts, he continues.
“There was a new episode of Say yes to the dress. And… I wanted to have dinner with you, I really did, but Analise is choosing the drees her sister wants. And her family is there, too. It’s a beautiful dress, I just wanted… I’m sorry, dove. I shouldn’t have lied to you”
“You’re – you left me – you’re watching say yes to the dress?”
Azriel likes to dress nice, and every now and then would tell you to buy one of the latest items of certain collection. You know he likes clothing, that unlike Cassian who can wear the same trousers for a week, Azriel knows the difference between dark blue and marine blue.
You raise your head from his chest and listen to him explain that Feyre had showed him the show a few years ago, and that since then, it has become kind of an obsession. That he, Feyre, Mor and sometimes Amren meet to watch it.
That he hasn’t told you because once you watched it together and you said it was a waste of time.
Needless to say, that from that moment, you all watch the show together. You find a new side of Azriel that likes to point out every detail of the dresses, that know the story of each couple and that talks about it for days with no end.
It is also fair to say that you dust out your weeding dress and that you spend a fun night together, making up for mean comments and harmless lies.
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ominisgoldie · 3 months
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Loving them is like...
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Loving Cass is fun. Loving Cass is two am runs for fast food. Loving Cass is jumping into a lake. Loving Cass is wrestling with a friend. Loving Cass is kisses sticky with sugar. Loving Cass is summer. Loving Cass is blood dripping down your sink. Loving Cass is holding him back from fights. Loving Cass is coming second to the training ring. Loving Cass is lukewarm water
Loving Az is cold. Loving az is snowball fights. Loving az is motorcycle rides at night. Loving az is blue light through your curtains in the middle of the Night. Loving az is sex without morals. Loving az is bloody knuckles with hidden secrets. Loving az is the blood on his blade. Loving az is a glass of whiskey on a tired night.
Loving Rhys is exhilarating. Loving Rhys is twists and turns. Loving Rhys is a bouquet of roses. Loving Rhys is finding the darkness blinking back. Loving Rhys is hating yourself, just a little. Loving Rhys is obsidian in your palm, beautiful but sharp enough to cut to the bone. Loving Rhys is the snow under your heels in the city. Loving Rhys is crying, the moon your only witness.
Loving Mor is beautiful. Loving mor is secrets whispered under summer stars. Loving mor is red lipstick on your collar. Loving Mor is the sound of moans mixed with soft music. Loving Mor is finding out that twisted words are not lies. Loving mor is crying in the bathroom, clutching the last bottle of perfume. Loving mor is the first kiss in a romance novel.
Loving Amren is grey. Loving Amren is stormclouds on the horizon. So beautiful, but so ominous. Loving Amren is careful smiles over red wine. Loving Amren is kisses coated in blood. Loving Amren is pearls against a pale throat. Loving Amren is the thrill after a gun goes off. Loving Amren is never quite enough.
Loving Feyre is relaxing. Loving Feyre is not wanting to get out of Bed on a Sunday morning. Loving Feyre is painting together on your porch. Loving Feyre is never having control. Loving Feyre is holding hands with a cloud.
Loving Nesta is intense. Loving Nesta is Sharp black. Loving Nesta is the feeling of riding in a car going so fast you aren't sure it's moving. Loving Nesta is long hair and sharp tongues. Loving Nesta is reaching for something that will self destruct again and again and again. Loving Nesta is crisp nights on the cusp of Autumn and Winter.
Loving Elain is spiraling. Loving Elain is looking over a cliff and falling into the river. Loving Elain is flower gardens that turn out to be Graves. Loving Elain is Burgundy. Loving Elain is calling to the forest, hearing a disembodied voice respond. Loving Elain is knowing you only have a few years to love. Loving Elain is like reaching into wool to find wolf teeth.
Loving Lucien is adventure. Loving Lucien is world maps and suitcases. Loving Lucien is knowing multiple languages. Loving Lucien is warm summer afternoons. Loving Lucien is lovemaking in a field. Loving Lucien is loud laughs over whiskey. Loving Lucien is watching from afar. Loving Lucien is basking in the sun's light, dreading when it shifts.
Loving Tarquin is gentle. Loving Tarquin is the gentle waves lapping on your ankles. Loving Tarquin is watching a bird fly away. Loving Tarquin is kisses under boardwalks. Loving Tarquin is loving the gentle sea, refusing to think of its violent nature. Loving Tarquin is not realizing you are drowning until your lungs begin to hurt
Loving Eris is rough. Loving Eris is getting too close to the fire, but relishing in your burn. Loving Eris is gold on red. Loving Eris is wicked smiles and dry mouths. Loving Eris is fucking in an old Cathedral. Loving Eris is bloodred lipstick smeared over collars. Loving Eris is never going home. Loving Eris is a hard wall to fall back on. Loving Eris is power being hand fed to you.
Loving Jurian is impulsive. Loving Jurian is jumping over walls and climbing trees. Loving Jurian is blades pressed against throats, laughter nicking the skin. Loving Jurian is armor so heavy you almost can't feel eyes burning into you. Loving Jurian is being so good at acting, because neither of you can tell when the other is genuine. Loving Jurian is something you tell yourself is a dream.
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rhysdarbinizedarby · 5 months
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‘Our Flag Means Death’ Star Rhys Darby on Stede’s Transformations & Hopes for Season 3
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[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Episode 8 “Mermen.”]
Our Flag Means Death saw Gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) transform from a fish-out-of-water swashbuckler into the romantic hero he was always destined to be in the latest season of Max‘s original comedy.
After realizing the error of his ways at the end of Season 1, Stede sought redemption in the eyes of the infamous Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), after recognizing he was in love with the pirate. While the path wasn’t a direct one, they eventually found their way back to one another with the help of a fantastical mermaid sequence, some much-needed apologies, and ultimately a better string of communication.
Reflecting on his journey, star Rhys Darby is opening up about Stede’s various transformations in Season 2, including the excitement surrounding that mermaid tail, as well as about where he thinks the pirate lovebirds might end up next should the series return for Season 3.
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Congrats on Season 2! Now that we can finally talk about it, what has it been like getting to see fan reactions, especially during the SAG-AFTRA strike?
Rhys Darby: Yeah, it was like a pressure cooker that needed to burst, for us and for the fans. When it finally came out, the burst happened and there was so much love for us, [but we] couldn’t talk about it. We were still stuck in this bottle and the cork wouldn’t come off, and that was difficult, but it was really lovely to see all the love and the surprise from everyone. Obviously, as you know, the fan artwork, it’s what we would say in New Zealand is pretty full on. So yeah, it was super cool.
And not that anyone gives out numbers, but I think I heard on the ethos that people [are] watching it, and it’s rating really high and at a time when we need this kind of beautiful love fest of comedy with a whole bunch of silliness to take us away from the disasters that are happening in the world. It’s been lovely. I just wish it was longer. I know people watch and rewatch and they’re so fanatical, but it’s just a comedy show, so to have any effect means so much to us.
In Season 2, Stede’s gone through a few transformations, one of which is that he’s a real pirate now, at least comparatively to Season 1. What helped you get into that new version of him? Was it the writing, costumes, or a combination of the two?
Yeah, the costumes are the first thing that comes to mind because once he starts wearing different gear, he looks at himself and goes, “Oh my God, I’m a different man.” And he really is turning from a man who is wearing these beautiful gowns with high heels and things inappropriate for a pirate ship to becoming an Errol Flynn-type hero straight away. That’s what they wanted to do with the character. So he’s lost a lot of that beautiful pageantry and is becoming a more practical guy who has to survive. He returns to this nightmare of a world because he wants to fight for love, and for want of a better term, “man up,” whatever the modern-day version of that is, “person up?” To become the guy that he dreamt of being in the first season.
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He didn’t dream that he was going to fall in love with someone. He dreamt he was going to be this amazing pirate and that just was not going to happen. But then when he found this love, I think he went away from that [dream] going, “I don’t deserve this.” And then when he realized upon returning home that he does deserve it, he had to fight for it. And so the only way to fight for it was to drop the battle armor of the gowns and actually become the pirate he imagined being. So it was great to become that and to fight for that love and to thank god that [Blackbeard] didn’t die. He would’ve actually lost it, I think, because it would’ve been like, “Well, what am I fighting for now?”
I think it was just so fun to see that character change, but also within that change, see a bit of the old self come through, especially when he found that cursed red suit. And all of a sudden it was like, “Oh my God, the old me again, look how good I look!” So it was lovely that they had those elements… I was missing a little bit of the old Stede myself. So it was great to find that again. And then again near the end with the British invasion scenario where I got to do the big coat and everything, which of course looked awesome. You can see that moment where I put it on and did that slow turnaround. It was way more filmic shots of me wearing that kind of stuff. And I think that gave Stede's strength as well. So much of Stede's embodiment comes from the things he’s wearing.
Speaking of costumes, the big one of the season had to be Stede’s mermaid look. How did you wrap your head around getting ready for such a fantastical, and ultimately, beautiful scene?
That was the highlight of the whole season for me. As a kid, I used to swim around like a little merkid. I would put my legs together and I’d swim under the water. I’ve always been into mermaids and things because I’m into cryptozoology. So when I got to be a mermaid or a merman, I really took to it. It was pretty easy, to be honest with you. I didn’t have any training to swim like that. So the only training I did was some breath work beforehand to help me hold my breath longer. But that was kind of almost superfluous. Once I got that [tail] on, I just became a mermaid. It’s hard for me to describe how I suddenly become these things, but I think I just got under the water. I could swim really easily with it.
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And I had weights on. So one of the things was we had to make sure I was the right weight so that I wouldn’t just float. That thing was sort of buoyant. So once we sorted that out, I could actually swim really well, and then just sort of hover underneath the water for a long time while [Taika]’s looking at me, I’m looking at him. To see it on the day, on the screen when I knew they’d got [the shot], there were just so many cheers, and I think they even played the music to see how the scene would work out. It’s one of those life moments where you go, “Oh my God, I’m becoming a cryptid again. I’m never going to forget this.”
This season really does focus even more on Stede and Blackbeard’s romance. How did you and Taika prepare for that? Especially since Stede’s more transparent about his feelings this time around.
It was good, and it was time. And because I was the new strong Stede, it felt really natural for me. I think it just worked really well with the writing because of the aggression that I was going through. When I was fighting that really bad guy [Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) and] threw a violin at him because he ruined Calypso’s birthday, that was a good moment because it is not just about Ed, it’s about the crew, Stede’s family, and they were going through this amazing moment there, and all of a sudden this guy turns up and next thing we’re getting tortured. And I’m like, “How dare you?”
I think that progression of strength helped [Stede] break into the moment of, “I’m just going to take my lover as well now, and do something with him.” He probably had no idea what he was doing because it’s Stede, but it worked out and it was the right time in the show. Taika and I are really good mates, so it’s really easy to do emotional scenes together. As soon as we put our gear on, we’re just looking at that character, and we admire each other.
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You and Taika have been known to improv on the show. Was there any improv moment from Season 2 you were particularly proud to see onscreen?
Yeah. Well, one, I noticed that some people are talking about that they thought was scripted, which wasn’t — most of the [scenes where] I’m with Taika are improvised in those emotional close moments — is on the deck of the boat where we’d do the thumb thing. That was all improvised on the day. So that was fun that we got that kind of stuff in. And there were some more little bits and pieces, but that’s one that comes to mind. That worked really well.
By the end of Season 2, Stede and Blackbeard have settled in to open their own inn. Do you think the peace and quiet will last in a possible third season, or will they get bored and want to rejoin the excitement?
Well, obviously as it stands now, it’s very lovely and it’s a nice positive ending, which is lovely for Season 2. But in reality, if you think about the characters, even in the fictional world, they’re both outlaws, they’re pirates, and the British back then… they never gave up. They did track down all the pirates and either hang them or get rid of them. There was only a couple that got away, and it certainly wasn’t those two. So I think what they’re thinking is, yes, this is bliss, but both those characters must be thinking, this is not going to last because you’ve got to sleep with one eye open.
Even though they’re in the middle of nowhere, they’re still in an area where everyone knows what they are, so they’re going to be tracked down. So I think if it was me, [they’d] end up back in action one way or another, especially if their inn is popular, which it probably would be. Word would get around. I mean, in those days, had you heard the Blackbeard and Stede had opened up an inn, [you’d have] to check that one out. It’ll be like Planet Hollywood.
There would be a wait-list, for sure.
Yeah, absolutely. Basically, they’re too famous now that Stede’s killed Ned and everything. He’s a famous pirate. So death is going to come to their door at some point. They’ll have to deal with it.
Do you think this version of Stede and Blackbeard’s story could avoid the fate of the real-life pirates?
Yeah, no, I think you’re dreaming if you think they’re going to live happily ever after.
Our Flag Means Death, Seasons 1-2, Streaming now, Max
Source: TV Insider
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readychilledwine · 2 months
Note
span it into March, Liz. Make us cry instead
You asked for it.
Pieces of You Pt 1
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Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected
Warnings - depression, self destructive behavior, babies, grieving, loss of motivation in life, Rhys feels his spark is gone, we haven't seen into readers headspace yet
Prologue
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Rhys had not left his bed in 7 days. He had not changed. He had not bathed. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes as a permanent reminder of the lack of sleep he allowed himself.
It took one week. One week for him to feel the light Feyre lit in his soul to go out. One week for him to feel the last of his spark die. One week of tugging nothing but an aching empty void. Rhys saw no joy in life anymore, just burden and heartache.
Cassian entered the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. It had been like this the whole time. Each day, a different member of the Inner Circle would come to his newly claimed room. They'd try to tell him about his son, try to force him to eat, to drink something other than another bottle of whiskey or wine. They all would leave when they realized he wouldn't budge, and that's how Rhys wanted it to be right now. He wanted to be alone. To drown himself in self hatred, in guilt, in anger, in the depths of sadness he had never felt before. “She's asking when you're going to come see him. She's concerned you aren't bonding with him and-”
“Tell her I just lost my fucking mate and I will see him when I'm ready to.” Rhys growled out every letter, glaring at Cassian. “She's fully fucking capable of caring for both of them.”
Cassian's shoulders fell. “Rhys, she just lost her mate, too, remember? The so-called accident in the port? The one we are fairly sure Beron and Koschei planned? He was one of the males killed.”
A moment of sympathy crossed through Rhysand's face before his own grieve ate through the emotion completely. “She was one of Feyre's friends, Rhys. Trust me. She's mourning as hard as we all are as well as mourning her mate, and trying to process it all while caring for two newborns in her home unexpectedly.”
Rhys rolled away from him, indicated he was done, and Cassian sighed, looking down towards his feet. “She's keeping Nyx alive, selflessly, Rhys. Our last physical piece of Feyre. At least consider going and seeing him.”
-
Members of the Inner Circle had all but moved into your cottage.
You had gone from just you and Wen to you, Wen, Nyx, and which ever member or members arrived to take care of you that day.
Today, Lady Death stood at your door with Cassian. They were holding baby supplies, food for lunch, and clothes for both of the babies. Nesta was a shell, moving into the home in silence and setting things down as if time was moving at a slower pace for her.
Cassian tucked your messy hair behind your ear. “I asked him to come see Nyx.”
Your eyes lit up, hope for the little heir shining in them. “And?” Cassian just shook his head, eyes beginning to water as he did.
“Is he asleep?” You nodded at the question. “And Little Mor?” You nodded again.
“I fed them both about 20 minutes ago.”
“Go do something for you,” Nesta's voice was lifeless. “We will make lunch. Azriel will be here soon.”
Azriel had become a constant companion. As soon as he realized Rhys had no interest in seeing Nyx, he had been here, standing in where a father should be. Doing whatever you needed, whatever the babies needed. Even though he was there for Nyx, he still treated “Little Mor," as the Inner Circle had all named your daughter, like he was here for her too.
You moved into your bathroom, looking at the now lukewarm bath you had drawn for yourself. It would be fine. You'd be quick. Then you would be ready to go be super mom and nanny again.
-
Azriel froze when he saw Rhys dressed in casual clothing, waiting for him at the door. He had lunch for the High Lord, hoping he'd be able to make him eat before leaving to be with you and his favorite babies. A shadow curled his ear, whispering how Rhys wanted to go see his son. How he needed to meet you officially. How he was struggling to set aside his own needs. How he was a scared lamb where a lion once stood, ready to run the second things became too difficult.
Azriel held a hand out, reaching for Rhys like the brothers had reached for each other so many times before. He waited, smiling softly at Rhys as a shaking hand placed itself in his and he walked them through the shadows before Rhys could change his mind.
-
Struggling flowers in pots sat outside of the cottage, wilting slightly from the lack of time and care put into them. A blue door sat on silver hinges, greeting them brightly. Mocking Rhysand's sadness with its cheerful presence.
You were an artist, Rhys knew that much. Where Feyre loved to paint, you used charcoal to express yourself. He also knew the two of you were fast friends, constantly having lunch together, shopping together, giggling.
You had been all Feyre spoke of when she met you 4 months ago. Her first true friend with no ties to a lover, to the inner circle, to obligations. You chose her, and she relished in every moment of your love, and from what Rhys understood, you relished in hers.
Rhys had a piece of your artwork. You had sketched out Feyre, mind and hands deep in paint, glowing towards the tail end of her pregnancy as she worked on painting Nesta rising from the Lake as Lady Death.
You had an impeccable eye for details and for making emotions readable through lines. You were a true gem to the Rainbow. A valued member of Velaris. He knew your name long before Feyre had mentioned you, but now, you were irreplaceable.
To him, to Nyx, to the Inner Circle.
They owed you. Rhys owned you. The very least he could do was drag himself out of a bed, throw on clothing, and come see his son. Rhys shook as his hand reached to knock, before scarred ones gently lowered His and twisted the knob.
“We don't knock. We just enter. No loud noises, okay?" Azriel opened the door, nodding to where Nesta sat with her hands on her hand, and Cassian was making lunch. “They must be sleeping?”
Cass nodded not turning his back to face them yet. “Little Mor and Nyx just fell asleep 25 minutes go. Y/n is Bathing in cold water because Mother forbid that female takes a moment for herself-”
As if on cue, as if sensing Rhysand's presence, a piercing cry broke through the house, and they heard a door open and then another. Azriel pulled Rhys with him to the nursery where Nyx and Morwenna slept during the day. "That cry was Nyx," Azriel said softly. "He struggles during naptime. Little Mor has a more rattle cry."
Long hair dripped water onto the wooden floorboards as a small winged figure rested his head on a bare shoulder. “I know, sweetheart,” you bounced him so softly, soothing him back to sleep. “I know you're lonely. It's okay. We can cuddle, I don't mind.” A deep huff left his mouth as he settled in, basking in the contact you were offering him.
Rhys moved like a ghost to the second bassinet where a sweet girl slept, happy and content for what he hoped was a few more moments.
The two of them could have been twins. Same dark hair, similar noses, similar lips set in a forever baby pout.
Aside from gender, there were only two glaring details sitting on Nyx's back that were the tell-tale sign of their different parents. Two glaring details that killed his mate, his wife. “And your son's mother,” a soft feminine voice whispered. “She was his mother, too, High Lord. He is missing her just as much as you are.”
Azriel looked to Rhys, calling for him in his mind. Daemati. Check your shields.
"His shields are fine. He's just screaming his thoughts like they're going to manifest into life if he does."
A deep voice finally answered, void of all emotion. “I don't think he misses her half as much as I do, my lady,” Rhys continued to look at Morwenna. A picture-perfect babe who caused you no harm.
“Little Mor,” Azriel said as he stroked her tuff of dark hair. "This is Morwenna, but we call her Little Mor.” Azriel then moved to Nyx, a ghost of a smile as his lips quickly trembled before he masked it. “You should hold him, Rhys. He might remember your voice.”
“It would be good for both of you,” you whispered. “He needs you. Look into his little mind and then Wen’s,” a pointed look to Azriel allowed Rhys to finally see you.
Tired eyes, features pale from exhaustion, a small smile that didn't reach your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. You were stunning, even by high fae standards, Rhys knew that, but he could hardly appreciate it the way he once had. There was no more beauty in his world. No more light. Feyre had taken it all with her.
“High Lord, please, holding him. Even just for a second.” You moved to Rhys, standing before him, offering so much more than just his son. “He needs you, and you need him. Just open your eyes and see that.”
Rhys held out shaking hands, taking his son in his arms for the first time, holding him for the first time. Bright blue eyes looked up at him, laced with sleep and confusion, before snuggling so closely into his chest that Rhysand felt something stir again. You moved him to the chair, forcing him to sit and handing him tissues as the tears began to fall.
He looked up to where you had grabbed your daughter before she could start crying, soothing her as well. He listened to the soft whispers of your voice, he watched you care for her no differently than you had Nyx, treating them like they were both your own.
It explained the little heir's health, the rolls beginning to form on his little body, the rosy cheeks. You loved him like he was yours, and he loved you.
Rhys looked back down, and as he stared at Nyx, watching each little movement of his chest, feeling his warmth, his happy thoughts and dreams of his and Feyre's voices, of you singing to him and rocking him to sleep. Looking at his son, Rhys realized that maybe, just maybe, there was still some light left in this world. He felt for the first time in a week that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to live for.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tayswhp
Rhys taglist:
@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads
Pieces of You Taglist:
@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @fandomrejects
If your username is in bold, tumblr is not allowing me to tag you. Hopefully it will fix here soon, though!
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shadowdaddies · 4 months
Note
Hello!! Could you do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader deals with frequent migraines and he tries to help her find ways to prevent or lessen them?
Rhys scratching my scalp sounds so good right now 😔😔
hi lovely! a scalp massage always sounds good to me, hope you enjoy this cozy little blurb💜
Migraine Treatment
Rhysand x Reader fluff
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You laid back on the couch, the dying embers of the fire the only light or sound you could bear at the moment. The sharp pain shooting through your skull was nauseating, making you afraid to move in case it would trigger further pain.
The door creaked open, a wave of agitation flowing through you at the disturbance which Rhys quickly picked up on. Slipping off his shoes, he padded over to the kitchen with feather-light steps. Grabbing a washcloth from under the counter, Rhys carefully dampened the fabric with warm water before making his way over to you.
“Here, my love. Sit up a little for me,” he murmured, voice low and gentle. You obeyed, groaning at the pulsing in your head as you leaned forward. Rhys tucked himself in behind you on the couch, his legs wrapping around your body as he pulled you to lay back against his chest. 
He set the towel around your neck, its warm plushness already soothing the muscles there. “Would a massage help?” he murmured, leaning low to press a tender kiss to your temple. 
Managing to whisper a small, “yes,” you allowed yourself to relax into Rhys’s warmth, his body surrounding you like heated pillows on all sides. Closing your eyes, you heard the sound of a bottle being opened, the soothing scent of lavender filling your nose as Rhys rubbed it into his hands. 
A soft, content sigh left your lips as Rhys’s fingers found your scalp, moving in soft circles against the painful areas. The tension melted away with each stroke, your heartbeat slowing as you relaxed into a half-asleep state. Your mate’s hands moved lower, thumbs working the pressure points on your neck that Madja had showed him could provide you with the most relief. 
You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but when you awoke again, Rhys was still holding you in his arms, supporting your neck as he ran his hands through your hair, humming softly. As you stirred, Rhys leaned down, violet eyes gleaming as he smiled at you. 
“How are you feeling?” he murmured, tone low as his fingers continued combing through your hair. 
“Better,” you whispered, just as your stomach growled in demand. With a soft laugh, Rhys leaned down to press another kiss to your temple.
“Do you feel better enough for some soup and a bath?” he questioned, hands moving down to massage your shoulders.
With a satisfied sigh, you nodded, eyes looking to his in adoration. “That would be very nice,” you murmured, urging your stiff muscles to cooperate as you sat up. Rhys adjusted the towel under your neck, giving you support as he carried you up to the bathtub, which was already filling with flower petals and scented oils. 
He laid you down in the bath, grabbing a neck cushion which he swapped for your towel as he turned to leave you in the warm water. “Rhys, won’t you join me?” you called out, a hand reaching for him.
With a small chuckle, Rhys pulled your outstretched hand to his lips, never breaking eye contact as he kissed your knuckles. “I’m just going to grab your soup, and then I will be right back to take care of you,” he purred, a promise glimmering in those violet eyes.
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azsazz · 4 months
Text
Change Your Ticket (Part 6)
Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)
Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,300
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Notes: I rlly need to stop overthinking this...so I'm just going to post it.
_________________________________________
Cassian don’t know why he’s running myself into the ground. It’s been a great morning, and although you’d had to leave for work, he’d enjoyed getting the little time seeing those pretty eyes, how your cheeks had pinkened with his taunts.
He almost had you climbing right back into bed with him.
He had loved the way you moaned and groaned about work, how you tried to hide away from him by running into the bathroom. How you tried to block him out by starting the shower, trying to mask how wet you were for him by drenching yourself under the hot spray.
Cassian bets it didn’t work.
His cock stirs at the thought of finishing he’d started, lingering in the space between the both of you like a thread winding tighter and tighter. And he thought it might snap when you’d come out all ready for work, eyes a little bit dazed as they avoided his lounging body on your bed. Cassian had all of the time in the world to tease you.
It was something after your sheepish goodbye, still reveling in the fact that he’d been so close to breaking through your routine. And if your boss dared fire you for spending a little time with him, well, Cassian isn’t too sure he’d be all that mad.
He wouldn’t mind taking care of you. In fact, it’s what he desires. And it’s not some manly expectation for you not to work, if that’s what you truly want, then so be it, he will be your best cheerleader. But he always aches when he’s away from you. He wants you by his side because he’s never had that, never had the rush that someone who actually cares for his wellbeing watches him play the game he loves, will caress him and speak encouragement, no matter if he wins or loses.
He doesn’t have a mother to call when things go sour, a father to seek advice from, nor siblings to playfully banter with. Sure, he’s had the children who’d he seen grow in the system with him, but oftentimes he’d be separated by a foster home that would only last a handful of months before they sent him away again, no matter how much he tried to stay. He’d help in the kitchen, with chores, jumping at the chance without even being asked because if someone were cleaning or cooking, maybe they’d keep him around a little bit longer.
His attempts were futile, at best.
“Bring it in, gents,” Coach calls and Cassian jogs over with the rest of his team. He snags a water bottle with thanks from the young boy handing them out, spraying a large gulp into his parched mouth before tilting the bottle back and wetting his already damp hair.
“Thanks, kid,” he grins, and the little boys’ cheeks turn red.
Cassian joins the rest of the team, forming a semi-circle around the coach. He finds his place between Azriel and Rhysand, the captain of the team. They are his best mates, brothers in every sense of the word, except literally. They’ve all played for the Velaris Stars for two seasons now, and are almost inseparable, both on and off the field.
“Great practice, eh?” he asks, getting down on one knee like the rest of the players as they await Coach Devlin’s words of wisdom. Something the coach has been trying to instill in his team for a while now, according to Azriel, who’s been with the Stars the longest. There isn’t a practice nor game that goes by without a morale boosting chat from Coach.
Azriel cuts him a glare from the side of his eye, and Cassian winces. His teammate hadn’t gotten to practice with them, ankle still not quite healed after the last match. That was poor wording on Cassian’s part.
Rhys brushes his damp hair from his eyes, toweling the sweat from his face as he responds. “Eh, still could work on some more scrums, but we’re in pretty good shape for Saturday’s game.”
“Oi, Third Degree,” Devlin’s snaps, startling the three of them. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys have become known to the team and the fans as Third Degree because the group of them dominate on the field. It had a nice ring to it, if he does say so himself. Devlin stands with hands on his hips, lips curled around his whistle as if he was about to blow it to gain their attention. “We interrupting your little chit-chat?”
“No, sir,” the three answer in unison, and Cassian notes the difficulty his coach has to not roll his eyes. He bites back a smirk, giving him his attention.
“As I was saying,” Devlin continues with a pointed look in their direction. It slides off Azriel’s shoulders but Rhysand has the gall to look innocently at their coach, as if he’s nothing but the angel captain Devlin thought he was when he’d been chosen for such a position. Cassian snickers and Rhys elbows him. “We’re playing the Autumn Rangers this weekend. Now, since it’s a home game, I expect all of you on your best behavior. You will welcome them to Velaris with sportsmanlike conduct and will not be brawling outside of this stadium,” he says, eyeing Azriel, who had gotten into a fistfight with Lucien Vanserra in the hotel lobby last season.
Cassian never did hear about what had happened, though he did wonder if it had anything to do with Lucein’s older brother, Eris, who is the Stars’ athletic trainer. The younger Vanserra was estranged from his large family, all connected to the sport in some way, shape, or form. Something about a distasteful relationship in the public eye his family was not proud of. In the end, Lucien had lost her heart anyway. Cassian feels a twinge of pity for the youngster, only in his second year in the sport. He has no one, either.
“He better not let me catch him off of this grass, then,” Azriel mutters, arms crossed over his chest. He won’t be playing in the game this weekend because of his ankle, and Cassian knows how hard he’s taking the news. While they were practicing, he’d been on the sidelines with Eris, working on stretching and testing the muscles of his rolled ankle. The red-headed trainer told Devlin he was going to have to sit out for another game, much to Azriel’s utter annoyance.
“He’d probably go straight for that fragile ankle of yours,” Rhys answers quietly, violet gaze still on their coach.
Azriel kicks him with his good foot and Rhys winces, biting back a grin.
Coach Devlin’s speech wraps up with some words of wisdom. The same one’s Cassian hears after every practice, before every game, and even in his nightmares. “Stars help the moon light up the universe. That’s the power of teamwork. Now get off my field and get into the showers, you all stink.”
“To this day, I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean,” Cassian mutters to his friends, nodding at Balthazar as they make their way towards the locker rooms. He catches Eris eyeing Azriel, a pair of crutches in his hands, but the latter doesn’t seem to notice, or is avoiding eye contact with the trainer as he limps from the field. “You good, man?”
“Peachy,” Azriel grunts, the fringe of his hair falling into his eyes. He’s trying his best not to limp, but there’s a twist of pain in his ankle and he hisses uncomfortably. He’d rather it gives out than use those fucking crutches Eris is lugging around for him. He can fuck right off with those. “It’s just another bullshit waying of saying ‘team work makes the dream work,’ Cass.”
Cassian considers his coaches words. He thought they’d played as an impeccable team during the last match that they had, but they’d still lost anyway. He’s not going to think it’s because his own shooting star wasn’t there in the city, watching him play.
“Maybe he needs to work on it a little,” Cass answers, “Shit’s confusing.”
“More confusing than the Rangers chant? ‘Allez les rouges?’ What does that even mean?”
“It means ‘Go Reds,’” Azriel answers, and Cassian didn’t know he knew French. Maybe he should pester him until he can teach him something worth saying to you to make you swoon. Then, he thinks that Azriel would teach him to say something naughty instead, and Cassian changes his mind.
He tugs the hemline of his shirt up and it sticks to his skin. It’s tight so that other players can’t easily grab it, but it often gets stuck over his broad shoulders. With a breath of frustration, the constricting fabric finally gives way, and Cassian rolls his shoulders, tossing it onto the bench in front of his locker before he digs around for his phone.
He can hear it buzzing against the wood and his brows furrow. Most of the people he knows are from the team, you, and a few others in the league. There’s his media manager, who he has weekly meetings with, and very sparse social media notifications on.
There’s a giddy stir in his stomach, hoping it might be you. He needs to shower, set up a grocery delivery, and head to his house to begin preparations for the extravagant dinner he’s planning on making you.
Cassian’s smile morphs into a frown upon seeing his lock screen. It’s not a call from you, but notifications cover his screen, from his manager, telling him to call him immediately, to a few friends he has outside of his team, texting him about something that’s happening on Twitter.
He unlocks the phone, heart kicking up in speed. If he’s being mentioned and called out for something in the media, it’s usually not a good thing. He wracks his brain as his fingers move on their own accord, motions robotic as they click the blue icon.
The first thing he sees when the screen refreshes is a photo of you, and his world stills.
The noise in the locker room turns to static in his ears. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest, adrenaline rushing through his veins, that he thinks he may drop the phone to the ground. His vision tunnels in on the photo of you from this morning, wearing his black t-shirt stuffed into your trousers. You’re pulling your hair into a clip, your work bag slung over your shoulder. You look good, of course you do, it’s exactly how he remembered you when you’d left him this morning. But what is going on?
The caption above the photo reads:
            Cassian Bailey’s Love Try: Secret Girlfriend Revealed!
Fuck. Oh, fuck.
Cassian’s hands shake as he scrolls. Post upon post of you headed to work fill his screen like a tidal wave of coverage. Most are the same photo, and he doesn’t dare look at any of the comments or reposts. There’s a grainy one of you at what must be your work, eyes round and tinged with fear as you stand in the lobby of the building.
He exits the app, pulling up your number instead. He shoves his phone between his shoulder and ear, digging around frantically for his clothes, wallet, and keys. He needs to get out of here, needs to find you, because your phone is going straight to voicemail no matter how many times he calls.
“Fuck,” he mutters, swinging around only to run face-to-face with Azriel and Rhysand.
“Cass?” Rhys asks, reaching his hands out as if not to scare him away. He can barely even focus on them right now, mind reeling with thoughts of if you’re safe, how you’re taking all of this, if you’re over. “You alright?”
“Is it true?” Azriel adds, hazel eyes a touch softer now.
He looks frantically between his friends. His mouth can no longer form words but all he knows is that he needs to get out of here right the fuck now.
Cassian can only nod. It’s more of a jerk of his head, and then he’s shoving his way between them and beelining for the door. It’s all he can do to pray that there isn’t media waiting to follow him, because he’s going straight to your home.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
“(Y/N), it’s definitely not the paparazzi.”
You place your freshly refilled glass on the table and shove to your feet. The blanket falls from your lap onto a heap on the floor, but you couldn’t care less as you make your way to the front door, Mor on your heels.
You freeze when you round the corner, meeting a worried hazel gaze that makes your aching heart crack. His eyes are red-rimmed, brows pulled tight with worry. Cassina’s hair is a mess, from both practice and running his fingers through where it was pulled back in a sloppy bun for practice.
He pushes gently past Feyre, but he’s still a wall of a man and she jumps out of his way.
It seems like time slows when he reaches you. Your vision vignettes so it’s only Cassian, standing before you like a child scared of the monster under their bed. He reaches out but thinks better of it, worried you don’t want him to touch you at all.
Your name is a whisper across his lips, and it makes you break, falling into his strong arms.
“I can fix this, I swear.” His voice is raw, cracking with his words. You hug him closer. His heart is running rampant in his chest, so you stroke soothing but shaky circles into his back. A touch of relief floods you, knowing that Cassian is as worried about all of this as you are. People know your name, your face, and they’ll be digging into your past, predicting your future, forever, now.
“Cass,” you offer gently, pulling away slightly to look up at him. He doesn’t want to give an inch, hands clamped like iron around your waist. “I don’t want to break up.”
“You don’t?” he asks, like he can’t quite believe it. His frantic gaze searches yours, and you let him see the truth in yours. His shoulders relax only slightly after he finds your words sincere, moving one large hand to your cheek to caress your face.
“No.”
You watch him swallow and force out the question he doesn’t want to ask. “Not even now that everyone knows you’re mine?”
No, you don’t want to be in the media, don’t want anyone to know who you are or try to get close to you only because of Cassian. The thought of people with ill intentions coming after you makes you sick, but you don’t want to stop this relationship with Cassian.
“I have no idea how I’m going to come back from this one, but no, I don’t want to leave you.”
Cassian releases a shaky exhale and because he can’t help himself, he dips down and kisses the hell out of you. You breathe him in, salty with sweat and part your lips, allowing his tongue to dip into your mouth, brushing softly against your own. It feels like an apology but he doesn’t need to give you one, it isn’t his fault you left the house this morning in a t-shirt you’d assumed no one would connect to the rugby player.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, lips brushing your own. He’s still holding you close, and the cocoon of his arms keeps you steady. None of the outside world matters right now, not when he’s holding you like this. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this. I promise.”
You nod, an unsure feeling stirring your gut. You don’t know how he might begin to even attempt fixing something like this, but you trust Cassian, and there will be time to talk privately when your friends aren’t staring at you while your boyfriend kisses the daylights out of you.
Speaking of, Mor has the biggest grin on her face and Feyre’s eyes are wide, glass of wine halted halfway to her lips. At least she’s shut the door.
“Hey, Mor,” Cassian nods, and you stare up at him incredulously.
“Hey, Cass.”
Wait a minute.
“You two know each other?” you ask, just as shocked as Feyre, who’s jaw hangs low.
“My uncle owns the team,” Mor shrugs, and now your jaw is touching the ground. “I know all of the players.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Feyre exclaims, elbowing Mor in the side. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes as she snatches her friend’s glass from her hand to take a sip.
This is certainly news to you. You can’t believe all this time Mor and Cassian have known each other. When you were in the bar last week for the game and your friends had attended, Mor didn’t act like she even knew what rugby was.
“Because I didn’t think you were that into rugby,” she tuts, saying exactly what you’re thinking. She sends a pointed look your way, “And I didn’t know you were dating Cassian Bailey!”
Heat rushes to your cheeks. You do feel bad for not telling your best friends, but you haven’t told anyone, not even your family.
Oh no, your family. Have they seen the social media storm that you’re now in the eye of? Have they been trying to contact you to ask their own questions or see if you’re okay?
You try to dislodge yourself from Cassian but he refuses to let you go, turning to you with a frown.
“Why are you wearing a Sealion’s hat?” His question serious, and there’s a slight scrunch to his nose, letting you in on his distaste. Fuck, you forgot about the hat.
You laugh, but it comes out thickly. “It’s Tarquin’s. He let me borrow it after the paps showed up to my work.”
“Should I be worried about this Tarquin?” Cassian asks, genuine concern on his face. So much so that your wet chuckle turns a touch more real.
“He’s more into you than me, so I’m wondering if I’m the one who should actually be worried,” you tease, hugging him tighter before pulling away. Cassian pouts, but you pat him on his chest. “You stink.”
“I thought you liked when I’m all musky and sweaty,” Cassian responds with a touch of suggestiveness. So much for figuring out what to do about your face in the public tonight.
And it’s fine, for now. You’d much rather spend your evening allowing Cassian to comfort you, and you him. You can still see the weariness in his gaze, how he may not want to talk about this in front of an audience. He cares for your opinion and your opinion only.
“Okay, ew,” Feyre says, sliding from her spot at the counter and reaching for her shoes. “I’m Feyre, by the way, and we’re totally leaving, right Mor?” she asks over her shoulder to a smirking Mor.
“No, wait, you guys don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do. We do not want to be around while the two of you make-up,” Mor agrees with Feyre, slipping into her own shoes. Expensive trainers that she must’ve slipped into quickly when she’d found out the news. She snatches her purse off of the counter, key ring jingling with keychains and keys. “Call us when your phone stops blowing up. See you later, Cass.”
“I think your captain is really hot by the way,” Feyre yells as Mor shoves her through the door with a laugh.
You sigh, turning back to your boyfriend who’s grinning down at you like a creep.
“What?”
“I like your friends,” he says earnestly, pulling you back into his body by your hips. “Now, how about some dinner?”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
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