#two disturbed Illyrians
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Cassian is a Nosy Busybody Who Can’t Keep to Himself
Summary: Cassian knows Azriel is seeing someone, but he keeps denying it and Cassian is determined to find out who he’s seeing
Author’s note: my personal headcanon is that Cassian is EXTREMELY nosy and loves knowing everyone’s personal business 💕 He’s just like me 💕
Azriel was seeing someone, Cassian was sure of it. The others think he’s being a bit too obsessed with the shadowsinger, but Cassian has a gut feeling that Az is seeing someone and purposefully hiding them.
Over the years, they’ve all had lovers and flings that they kept to themselves, mostly because they didn’t matter much and were casual, short-term things. This time feels different. Cassian thinks Az has been seeing someone secretly for months.
Az seems happier, he seems more reluctant to stay out drinking, he even delegated assignments that were “too long” to others.
Cassian needs to know who this fae is and whether or not they’re good enough for his beloved brother.
Unfortunately for Cassian, Azriel is the night court’s spymaster. He can’t exactly follow him around. He’s tried it. Azriel just maneuvered in and out of random shops, making Cassian go insane trying to find him.
He has concocted what he thinks is the perfect plan.
-
Cassian slept on the floor below Azriel’s. No one wanted to share a floor with Cassian because he “snores too loudly” or whatever they tell him. Fine by him, he gets an entire floor to himself.
The past few nights Cassian has been staying in one of the other rooms on his floor - the room directly underneath Azriel’s. He’s been staying up to see if he can hear any noises coming from above.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he hardly heard anything last night, except what he had convinced himself was two pairs of footsteps at one point. He decides it’s now or never when he wakes up, racing up the stairs to Azriel’s floor. He knows he has to be quick - his stupid brother’s stupid shadows alert him to any disturbance, so the time is now.
Cassian runs to Az’s room, takes a split second to catch his breath, then shoves the door open, finding Azriel waking up in bed. And a mysterious shape next to him under the covers.
“Cassian,” Azriel states, “what in the Cauldron are you doing here?”
Cassian can’t take his eyes off the shape under the covers, but he realizes if he wants to find out more, he has to keep his true intentions of coming a secret.
“Well I could ask you the same.”
Mother boil him, that was definitely not the right response.
“This is, in fact, my room. If you come by after lunch I’ll provide you with a tour.”
At that, Cassian begins to look around the room more, noticing mugs on the twin nightstands that surround Azriel’s bed. On the nightstand closer to the amorphous blob under the covers, was a stack of four books, one of which looks very familiar.
“Azriel, I didn’t know you could read.” Cassian states, trying to rile something of the shadowsinger.
“Piss off, Cassian. Of course I can read - it’s you who everyone thinks is illiterate.” Azriel was getting more and more annoyed by this intrusion, worried about if you were still asleep by his side or awake for this. He had just enough time before Cassian plowed down the door to cover you with his duvet.
“This book looks familiar. Isn’t it (y/n)’s? She’s going to kill you if you get ring marks on her book. She almost filleted me alive when I bent one of the pages of a book before.”
At hearing your name, you stirred just a tiny bit, both Illyrians going still at your movement.
Cassian looks down the bed, seeing your foot jutting out from under the covers.
“Az, I never knew you had such small, pale feet.”
“I hide them in my shoes, stop looking at my feet you weirdo. Why exactly are you here again?”
Cassian cannot come up with a good enough lie for why he was there. The room is silent, until he decides on, “You’ve been sleeping in too much recently - wanted to make sure you were coming to training today.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes, seeing right through the lie. “Cassian, training is in 2 hours.”
“Well, I know you like having time to eat breakfast and wake up before training, so I’ll just help you pull the covers off-“
Cassian reached for the duvet, and Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand, squeezing it so tightly, the general was afraid he’d lose circulation.
“Don’t you dare do that.”
And Cassian has the upper hand.
“And, pray tell Az, why not?”
The blanket begins to shift, and a hand comes out from under the blanket, pulling the blanket down just enough for your messy hair and your eyes to be seen by Cassian.
“Because it’s really cold outside of the blanket.”
Cassian was gobsmacked. His jaw literally dropped, and he kept pointing between the two of you, going “you.. and you!”
He heard you giggle underneath the blanket. “Yes, Cassian.”
Cassian, still shocked at this revelation, could only think to ask “Was last night the first time?”
“Not that my sexual endeavors require your knowledge, Cas, but we’ve been seeing each other for about 8 months now.” Azriel remarks, a smirk growing on his face.
“EIGHT MONTHS?!” Cassian bellows, “you’ve been sleeping around for 8 months and DIDN’T TELL ME UNTIL TODAY?”
You had never seen Cassian so upset before.
“Well,” you say, “at first we wanted it to be a secret from everyone, because you all are so nosy,” at which Azriel makes a pointed face at Cassian, “and then a few months ago we thought it would be funny to see how long before everyone found out so we started being a bit less secretive.”
Cassian begins thinking back to the past few months. He recalls going to Rita’s with everyone one night, and in his drunken haze he swore he saw you nestled into Azriel’s side while everyone else was dancing, but he chalked it up to drunken lenses. There was another day where you were just coated in Azriel’s scent, but he chalked it up to the flight the two of you embarked on earlier that day.
“That’s why for a few months neither of you would come out drinking with us!”
You both nodded.
“Oh gods, I can’t wait to tell everyone - RHYS!” He starts screeching for Rhys, who winnows in very quickly, looking very pleased with himself.
“Yes, Cas?” Rhys smirked, knowing where this was headed, and very excited to watch the outcome.
“Look! Him! And-and her! For MONTHS!” Cassian says, pointing at the two of you still in bed.
“Yes Cassian, I know.”
Cassian turns to his brother, “they’ve been hiding it for months, the b- what do you mean you know?”
“I know.” Rhys says, his smirk taking up most of his face.
“How’d you find out?”
“I woke up in the middle of the night wanting cookies and I found them making out in the kitchen.” You slowly sink back under the covers a little in embarrassment, remembering Rhys making his presence known with a quiet cough as you were kissing Azriel in the kitchen. The shit-eating grin on his face as he asked “midnight snack?” is one you won’t forget.
“Wait, does anyone else know?” Cas asks, putting his hands on his hips in indignation.
Rhys puts his hand on Cassian’s shoulders. “Everyone else knows, you were the last to find out.”
The look Cassian gave was pure offense. He had never felt so offended in his life! Being the last to know about you and Azriel. He loved both of you dearly, and he felt a little offended you didn’t want to tell him.
“Cassian,” you say, as if you also possessed the gifts to read minds that Rhysand does, “we love you, we just know how much you love finding things out, so we thought you’d love to snoop around and find out. If I weren’t naked under this blanket, I’d come hug you.”
Cassian gives you a suggestive look and winks, causing Azriel’s wings to wrap around you in a cocoon.
“Now that everyone knows, can you both please leave us alone?” He huffs, wrapping his arms around you as well.
“Does Rita know?” Cassian asks, acting oblivious to you two clearly wanting this public spectacle done with.
“No, she doesn’t” you say, peaking your eyes out over one of Az’s wings.
With that, Cassian bustles out the door, excitement coursing through his veins.
“He’s like a dog with a bone,” you laugh, “he’s precious.”
“You two do know he’s going to tell all of Velaris right?” Rhys says, reaching to close the door.
“Aww let him have it, he’s just excited.” You say, nuzzling into Azriel’s chest as Rhys shuts the door.
Walking through the streets of Velaris later, Cassian truly made the rounds telling everyone, with people offering you congratulations and happy tidings on your relationship. Azriel wasn’t very fond of everyone knowing, but he found it incredibly sweet how happy they all were for the two of you.
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A Little Helping Hand
A LITTLE HELPING HAND | Azriel x Fem!Fairy!Reader
SUMMARY: Azriel is hunting down a rogue band of Illyrian warriors – but when their tracks seemingly vanish, he gets a helping hand from a small resident of the forest.
WARNINGS: Not much, mentions of getting a cold, Azriel is low-key a flirt
WORDS: 1.2k
Azriel had been hunting the rogue Illyrian group for two days now. He was far into the woods of the Illyrian mountains, and the cold was harsh against his body. Snow peppered the ground and trees, but sparsely, with not enough to hold footprints, an easy way for the shadowsinger to find them.
But Azriel was a spymaster, and did not need footprints in the snow to find his prey. He could smell their scents that they’d tried to hide with the pine needles in the trees above them, and he could see places where dirt and pebbles had been disturbed, even if only slightly. His shadows whispered to him as he tracked down the Illyrians, telling him where to look, where the disruptions of the peace of the forest lay.
Azriel prayed to the Mother that he would find the rogue soldiers quickly. It was cold and miserable, and he felt the irritating feeling of a blocked nose coming on. He should be back in Velaris in front of a fire, reading a book and getting better. He knew Rhys and Feyre would wrap him up in a blanket and force-feed him soup as soon as he came home sick, and they would fuss over him every second of the day. And while Azriel would complain about being fussed over… he would deal with it. Because when they fussed over him, it showed him that they loved him.
A rustling in the bushes behind him caused him to whip around, Truth Teller already in his grasp. He sank into a defensive position, watching as the bush stayed silent, the green leaves unnaturally still. Azriel’s nostrils flared as he tried to scent whatever was in the bush. The shrub was too small to be hiding an Illyrian warrior, so it had to be an animal of some sort. His shadows revealed nothing, so he slowly turned away from the bush and continued on his hunt.
The Illyrian warriors knew how to cover their tracks, and maybe someone less skilled than Azriel would have had trouble finding them. But Azriel had been spymaster under the rule of two High Lords, and had acquired centuries worth of knowledge and skill.
Azriel reached a crossroads where the tracks suddenly disappeared. The warriors’ scent vanished, as did the small disturbances along the path. Azriel paused in his tracks, puzzled. How had that happened? The track was there only a minute ago… Azriel stepped back, one step, two steps, and sure enough, he could scent the males again. But he took two steps forward, and they were gone.
Azriel stared at the ground, his shadows whispering in his ear. They couldn’t find much, and they were just as perplexed as he was.
“They went that way.”
Azriel spun around to face the small voice, Truth Teller gripped in his hand, but nothing was there except trees and bushes. But he had heard something…
The bush rustled and Azriel watched it as something small and glowing exited the safety of the leaves. It took him a moment, but he recognised it as a fairy, the creature only a little bit bigger than his thumb. You wore clothes made from leaves with fluffy cuffs, maybe created from an animal’s fur.
Fairies were extremely rare, and often confused with pixies. They were small, fae-like creatures, with similarities ranging from their pointed ears and elongated limbs. Two key differences between the fairies and the fae were, of course, their size, and their iridescent wings. While they appeared fragile, a fairy’s wings were actually quite resilient.
Your eyes were glued to Azriel’s blade, so he slowly sheathed it. Fairies didn’t tend to be violent, but one could never be sure. That was why he kept Truth Teller within easy reach, and his siphons glowed slightly.
“They went that way,” you repeated, pointing with a small hand. “The rogue warriors.”
Azriel raised a brow at you. “How do you know I was hunting them?”
You began to glow, and Azriel realised it was the fairy form of blushing. You looked anywhere but at him, and wrung your hands. “I was… I was following you.”
“And why is that?” Azriel inquired.
Most of the time, if someone had admitted to following him, Truth Teller would be pressed against their throat and Azriel would order them to inform him of why. But you seemed innocent, and Azriel was simply curious.
You rose from the bush, your wings fluttering fast enough that they almost became invisible, and hovered near Azriel’s hand.
“Your gems are pretty,” you complimented, not answering Azriel’s question and fluttering closer. “May I touch them?”
Azriel hesitated before answering. Was this maybe some sort of trick? You seemed very comfortable with him, but why? Had the rogue soldiers somehow orchestrated this?
“You may,” Azriel responded slowly.
You flew closer and reached out, your small fingers brushing against the cobalt of his siphons. They glowed brightly where you made contact, and you smiled dazzlingly at the sight. You flew up in order to be in line with Azriel’s eyes, and smiled again.
“My name is Y/n,” you informed him, holding out a hand.
“Azriel,” the shadowsinger replied, reaching out and allowing you to shake his finger. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
You glowed again, brighter than last time, and flittered backwards. Azriel wasn’t sure why he was making you so flustered, but something in him enjoyed it immensely. Azriel waited for you to answer, raising an eyebrow and watching you stumble over your words.
“I – uh… well, your gems were shiny, and I like shiny things,” you got out, and Azriel grinned lazily at you, causing your fluttering wings to stutter, dropping you an inch before you regained your flight.
While Azriel would have loved to talk to you for longer, make you glow brighter and get your wings to skip a few more beats, he had a job to do. The longer he stayed here with you, the further away the Illyrian brutes got.
“Which way did you say the Illyrians went?” Azriel inquired.
Your smile dropped slightly in disappointment, but it was gone after a second as you pointed to one of the many trees.
“They climbed the trees,” you provided. “They knew they couldn’t fly, because someone might see them or hear their wing-beats, so they decided to jump between the trees.”
Azriel looked closely at the branches that you had gestured to, but he couldn’t see anything. Nothing to suggest that what you were saying was true. He couldn’t even scent the males.
“How do you know this?” Azriel questioned.
You cocked your small head at him. “The trees told me.”
“The trees?” Azriel echoed, and you nodded.
“Don’t you hear their song?” you asked. “Don’t you hear them singing to each other, hear the branches offering a rhythm as they creak and the leaves adding a melody as the wind rushes through them?”
“Unfortunately not,” Azriel hummed, looking at the trees in question. “But thank you for your help, Y/n.”
You beamed as he said your name, and Azriel felt some amount of pride that he had been able to make your face light up like that.
“You are welcome, Azriel,” you twinkled. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“As do I,” the shadowsinger replied.
You hesitated a moment before flying forward and kissing Azriel on the nose, the feeling a soft brush against his skin. Against his will, Azriel felt his cheeks heat up a bit, and you smiled at him one last time before turning around and sailing away on a pine-scented wind. Azriel’s gaze followed you until you disappeared from his sight, and a small smile bloomed on his mouth.
AZRIEL TAGLIST: @ruleroftides
#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#acotar azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#illyrian#azriel x fairy!reader#azriel x fem!reader#fanfiction#writing#my writing#a court of thorns and roses fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses x reader#a court of thorns and roses#shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader#shadowsinger
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The Shadowsinger: Nine (Azriel's Interlude)
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Mention of trauma/death, Azriel's internal angst (as @mybestfriendmademe once said "an emotionally constipated Illyrain"), ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel reflects on his thoughts since the moment he heard about you.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight
Azriel's POV
- Starting Immediately after Amarantha’s Death -
Rhys came back from Under the Mountain after speaking with them mind-to-mind about the events. How he would be home soon.
He brought someone new that night, someone that spied for Amarantha during those 50 years. Just as Rhys had. To protect his family. He said he was bringing another Shadowsinger. The Inner Circle was shocked, to say the least. Azriel most of all. There hadn’t been a known Shadowsinger for a long time. For two of them to exist at once… and both of them Illyrians. It was unheard of.
He didn’t believe Rhysand until he saw you that first night. You’d spent all week in your room and Rhys told all of them not to disturb you. Mor wasn’t happy about that. But Azriel felt a tug. He spent the first two nights with his shadows swirling at your door. And then Rhys caught him and he dragged him back to his room, yelling at him to stay away from you until you deemed yourself ready to handle more people. He said you lost your family and you needed space. Not a male brooding in front of your door.
So Az waited, and he tried to keep calm as he saw you in a navy blue sweater and black pants that first dinner. He saw the way your shadows swirled around his ankles, how his own darted to your shoulders. More importantly he saw you keep a leash on them, as if you didn’t want them going to him. He wondered if you were afraid of losing them.
And then he went on a mission, Rhys needed information about where the Attor went after Amarantha died. Because it sure wasn’t found anywhere before they destroyed the Mountain. And he needed information about Hybern. So much information and Az had to reestablish his spies. Yes, the shadows told him everything they could, but his spies were the ones that needed to be contacted. That took a month.
He agreed to train you purely out of selfishness for himself, at first. He wanted to see how another Shadowsinger used their abilities. He was quite good at controlling the shadows to his will. He could do just about anything with them that he wanted to, and he wanted to see if you could do the same.
But the longer he spent around you, the more he saw how much you needed space. You didn’t need him prying into your life. You didn’t need to relive your trauma. Because that’s the only way a Shadowsinger is born, in darkness and loneliness. His shadows were his comfort. Things that were there for when he was lonely and didn’t have anything, not even light, to keep him company.
He wanted to know if they were the same for you. You were healing from everything that happened. Rhys said you lost your family, it would be as if Rhys had come back to find all of them dead. What hit Az the hardest was that you chose to call the northerners your family after your blood betrayed you. After they tried clipping your wings. It made his blood boil, made him want to go to Valorworth and see how they liked getting their wings shredded to pieces. But instead, he trained you that first day. And knew that if he continued training you, getting to know you, he would only want to be closer to you. There was a tug that pulled him towards you in every room, anytime he was in the House with you. No matter what.
It didn’t help that you were gorgeous. Your body was just the way he’d prefer it, though if it changed at all, you would still be perfect in his eyes. Your eyes were a striking color he hadn’t quite seen anywhere before. And your voice made him want to drop to his knees and beg. Especially with how timid you were the first few days. You were so small and quiet, but you held this power behind you that you didn’t even know about. But Azriel could sense it.
Something changed after he went on his second mission, leaving Cassian to train you. When he got back and saw how happy you were with Cass, he felt such rage and jealousy boil in him he didn’t know what to do. You were on top of Cassian. Panting with a smile on your face. He couldn’t help but remember how Mor had flirted with Cass before… he was so close to tackling Cassian then and there for even coming close to you like that, but he kept it in. You weren’t his property. Cauldron, he didn’t even know you. Or you him. And he was acting as if he had some claim to you.
He was scared of his feelings. So he did what he knew best and hid in the shadows. Maybe he was sulking. Maybe he was brooding. But it was better than laying claim on you as if you were his to keep. Better than getting upset with his brother over something that happened 500 years ago. Cassian might have said yes to Mor, but they were young and of course he would. When Mor never reached back out to Az, it was only his shadows that he could find comfort in. And other females for a few nights, maybe a couple weeks, here and there. But nothing substantial. Nothing like what he was feeling for you.
Az didn’t want to lead you down a path that would have you with him, probably miserable. If you hated him, it would be better than nothing. Better than thinking he had a chance with a strong, intelligent, talented, and beautiful female like yourself. It seems his plan had worked, because by the time that night at Rita’s came, he was just about ready to snap someone’s neck for even looking at you. In your low-cut top and tight pants, it was all he could do to not grab you by the waist and take you to the House for himself. And it scared him again. He’s been attracted to plenty of females. But never like he was with you. Never to the point of him having to go train at night, or fly for hours on end just to clear his mind. And he still couldn’t sleep knowing you were in the same house as him.
Seeing you with Cassian again just confirmed what he already knew. You would much prefer to be with a male like Cass than Az. One that wasn’t so scarred and sunken into his thoughts. You wouldn’t want to be with him. It hadn’t occurred to him that you might be trying to make him jealous because he was ignoring you so much. It never crossed his mind that you might want his attention. After that night, you certainly didn’t. Not with how Azriel treated you the next day.
Az wasn’t happy to hear Rhys wanted you and Cass at Windhaven. He knew you were to be the emissary, but he didn’t want you to be anywhere near those males. He hated Illyrians enough. If someone touched or spoke to you the wrong way and he found out about it… little would hold him back from burning it all down.
He knew he should have been focusing on the mission Rhys gave him. But he sent shadows to monitor you at Windhaven. Even had Nuala trail you as you moved about the camp when she could. When he heard about the first meeting, and then of your training of the girls (improperly) on how to use practice weapons… he knew he couldn’t stay away. You were going to get yourself into trouble and Az had to be there to get you out of it. He knew Cassian could handle it. But Azriel hated the thought of an Illyrian male not being able to hold back his anger and taking it out on you because you also couldn’t hold in your anger.
He also knew that you could handle yourself, especially with how well your training had been going. But he didn’t want to stay away anymore. He didn’t want to ignore you. Even if it meant watching you and Cassian banter and flirt. He could at least watch from a distance.
Az might have done too good of a job at ignoring you because you were not as happy as you could have been when Cassian said you were to be spending 4 days in the mountains with Azriel. He knew exactly where to take you. And while he knew you would be training with him, he also knew this was the time to talk to you. Get to know you. Maybe figure out why you were so on edge at the Illyrian camps.
So you set off north, towards where their concealed cabin was. You would spend days flying and hiking there. All part of your training. But by the time you both got there, maybe his resolve to court you would be gone. Or at the very least, maybe he could control it better. Or maybe it would force you to see who he truly was, and that he truly was not worthy of you. Maybe you’d tell him that and he could try to move on. Azriel wasn’t sure what would happen, but he knew that he needed this time with you. To find out what, he wasn’t sure.
A/N: This was a fun chapter for me to write. I know I've given Azriel's POV a little bit before, but when I was writing this I wanted an idea of where his head space was. I needed a reasoning for him being so distant, and the best way for me to do that was to write out his thoughts. Next chapter, we get to see Az and reader in the Illyrain mountains (a little reminiscent of Nessian in ACOSF)!!!
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She Keeps Me Up (Nickelback)
Summary: You are Rhys's little sister (only by like 7-8 years), and you and Cassian have been flirting with each other for the last few months. You want it to go further but he's your brother's best friend and he probably only sees you as a sister anyway. Little do you know, Cassian can't stop picturing you in not-so-innocent scenarios.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, might be some cringe happening so I apologize, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), light choking, and idk other interesting things.
A/N: First time posting on here! Idc if you don't like this cuz I do lol. Anyway, enjoy Cassian ;)
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The sweat is pouring down your face and neck, despite the cold, snowy night air around you. You’ve been out here for hours with a sword in your hands, running through the training drills you’ve seen the males do every day. Up, over, down, up, side, in, down, repeat.
You are so focused on getting the movements right, you don't hear the footsteps approaching. “Well, look who I found,” says a low voice behind you.
Your heart races as you spin on your heel, holding your weapon level with the stranger's midsection. As you take him in, you recognize the winged male before you. “For the love of the Mother Cassian! You fucking scared me.” You say without lowering your sword.
Cassian chuckles, looking you up and down. You are wearing leather training gear, with your raven hair tied back in an elaborate braid. Your wings are nowhere in sight, and the moon is reflecting off your sapphire eyes.
You two stay like this for a few seconds, him standing in front of you as you keep your blade trained on him. You're the first to speak. “What are you doing out here Cas?” you lower the Illyrian sword, sheathing it at your hip, then cross your arms as you glare at him.
His gaze is piercing, but you’ve seen it so many times that you're unfazed by it. “I was looking for you. Rhys noticed that you weren’t in your room, and sent me out to find you.” He grins. “But I never thought I’d find you with a sword in your hand, going through the moves better than any of the males your age.” he steps towards you, so you take a step back with a small smile on your face.
“Well, you’ve found me, but I’m not going home till I get this down pat.” You say as you reach for your sword. Cassian takes another step forwards, so you take another one backward.
“I don’t think so, y/n. You can finish up tomorrow morning in town where the animals of these forests can’t get you.” He smirks, but you see a glint of something other than his usual arrogance in his eyes. Is that actual concern?
Deciding you don’t want to play fair, you take a step closer to close the distance between the two of you. You can see his breath coming out in clouds and the damn smirk that’s still on his gorgeous face. You stand on your toes so you’re close to his face and whisper, “I’ll go with you, but only if you can catch me.” without giving him time to register what you said, you take off into the dark woods.
Cauldron boil him alive. Cassian knew you’d be in the forest, you always were, but he never thought that he would find you looking like a warrior goddess in those oh-so-tight leathers, wielding a real Illyrian sword like it was nothing. Mother above, you were beautiful. He almost didn't want to disturb you, but Rhys had been worried, so he’d bring you back to the house. Then you closed the space between the two of you, and he started to come up with other ideas that should not be going through his head. Gods, he wanted you so bad. But you were Rhys’ sister so it could never happen. That Rhysand would know about, anyway. He was about to cross the line when you turned the other way and disappeared.
“Fuck!” Cassian exclaimed. He scanned the dark woods around him, but you were gone. Looking up at the stars, he started to laugh. You want to play? Then game on.
You're running through the thick trees. You can hear Cassian laughing in the distance and smile to yourself. You know he's not going to go down without a fight, so you pick up your pace, looking around and keeping your senses on high alert for animals and Illyrians alike. You reach a tall tree just outside of a cave and decide to trick him further.
You summon your wings as you run toward the cave. You only go in a few steps and then fly out and up a tree. Putting your wings away, you perch on a branch, waiting for Cassian to find your tacks and enter the cave.
You're not sure why you have to constantly tease him, that's just how your relationship has always been. But the last few months have felt different. They have felt like you're not just throwing words back and forth anymore. The tension you feel when he walks in a room, the way your stomach lurches when he hits you with his signature lopsided grin, or how when he looks at you it seems to light you on fire.
Oh how you’ve wished to cross the line of friends and be more, but how could he feel the same? He’s your brother's best friend and has known you your whole life. He probably only thinks of you as Rhysands annoying younger sister. He was sent out here to fetch you after all.
A snapping sound from the ground brings you back to the present. You assume it’s Cassian, having followed your footprints. But the creature you see is not your handsome Illyrian.
Your heart beats faster when you see the sheer size of the beast. It’s covered in fur, with a tail and a massive body. Its head is about the size of a boulder, and with the light from the moon, you can see long talon-like teeth protruding from its mouth. It's sniffing at your footprints in the snow leading into the cave. It disappears from sight as you slowly make your way down the tree where you were hiding.
You have to find Cassian. And as if the Mother herself was listening, you catch a glimpse of his wings out of the corner of your eye. You quietly make your way to him. He has his back to you, so you sneak up and put your hand over his mouth so he won't make a sound.
Cassian freezes. Then in a blur of movement, you're pinned to the snowy forest floor with Cas on top of you.
Cassian's heart is racing as he pins the person down. He's been on edge since he saw very large animal tracks heading in the same direction as yours. He was almost frantic scouring the trees for you. But as he looks at who he has pinned, he heaves a sigh of relief. You are not being eaten alive.
Your eyes are dilated as you look up at him, smiling slightly.
“We have to get out of here,” Cassian whispers. You nod your head as he gets off of you. But you're pulling him back down so he's flush against your chest.
Cassian looks at you with questioning eyes but you answer with a searing kiss.
You’re not entirely sure what came over you. Him pinning you down and looking at you the way he was. You had no words to describe what you felt at that moment. You just kissed him.
His mouth was hot and his lips chapped from the cold air. At first, you thought he was going to pull away and look at you like you were crazy, so you started to pull away yourself. But before you could fully detach your lips, his mouth came down hard on yours. There was heat and passion in the kiss. A hunger you thought he didn’t feel, but with the fierceness, he slid his hands up your shirt and groaned into your mouth which made you realize that you were not the only one who was desperate for the other.
You broke the kiss reluctantly, looking into his dark eyes. “We should probably go back before that creature I saw gets us.” you manage to say between your pants. Cassian simply nods and you are up in the sky.
Cassian always prided himself on being able to keep his composure, but flying back to Windhaven with you in his arms, kissing his neck, and winding your fingers through his unbound hair was going to shatter him. He lands hard on the doorstep, letting you stand on your own. He pushes the door open to find the house empty.
You walk over to the kitchen table, where a note is placed. You turn to face him, reading what is on the paper. “Rhysand had to go back to Valaris, so we have the house to ourselves.” The smile you gave him was pure sin.
Cassian didn’t have control over his own body when it closed the distance and connected your lips to his. His hands went straight to your waist to pull you closer, as yours wound through his wind-swept hair. The noises that came from your mouth had Cas wrapping your legs around him and moving to the closest bedroom.
What Cassian would never be able to forget was how much he loved it when you said “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” His knees almost gave out. He set you on the edge of the counter while sliding his hands up your training shirt to take it off. You were just as eager as you undid the laces of his pants, making him lean into your touch and groan.
He was big. You’ve been with males before, but never one who compared to Cassian. He was working on your tight pants as you started kissing his neck, leaving marks along his jaw and shoulder. He tasted like night air and sweat, and Mother was it sexy. Keeping your hand in his unbound pants, you moved to get closer, but he held you still.
“You keep doing that love, and this will be over far sooner than I want it to be,” Cassian growled in your ear, making a surge of heat go straight to your core.
Cassian pulled down your leggings and sucked in a deep breath, and you remembered that you had nothing on underneath them. What can you say, it's more comfortable to train with just the leggings. Next thing you know, you're laying flat on your back and Cassian has his head between your legs, looking you dead in the eye.
“If you want me to stop, I will.'' The look on his face is one of the most serious you’ve seen. You nod your head.
“I don’t want you to stop Cass.” You reply with a shaky breath.
He smirks and dives in.
He licks your slit and feels you shiver and gasp at the action. So he does it again, and again. You taste so good, he’ll never be able to get enough of you, and by the way you’re moaning and gripping his hair, you’re loving this. His hands move up your thighs to your hips and squeeze. At the same time, he bit down on her clit.
“Cassian!” you cry out. Your voice was music to his ears, encouraging him to go faster. He added a finger to tease your entrance, and without warning plunged in.
His finger hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed. Arching your back off the counter as he ate you out like a starved male, you threaded your fingers threw his hair and pulled him away from you. He looked up at you with a question in his eyes. Do you want to stop?
“I want you inside me, now Cass.” That was all you said.
Cassian hauled you up and took you to your bedroom. The whole way there you were stripping both of your remaining clothes, leaving a trail down the hall and up the stairs. Cassian's lips leave open-mouthed kisses on any bare skin he can reach and your combing your fingers through his hair, loving the feeling of him underneath you.
Next thing you know, your back hits your massive Illyrian bed, and a massive Illyrian is on top of you, staring down at you with dark hungry eyes. His mouth connects with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, being careful of his wings. You groan into him at the feeling of his hard cock pressed against your entrance. Cassian takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Not wanting to be outdone, you trace your hand over where his wing connects to his muscular back. He growls and bites down on your bottom lip then goes to bite down on where your shoulder and neck join.
“Cassian, if you're going to fuck me, fuck me already.” You said and his teeth grazed the top of your breast.
“Needy are we?” He takes his lips off my skin. You’re about to protest, but all that comes out is a loud moan as Cassian lines up with your entrance and thrusts in.
“Mmmh love you feel so good wrapped around me and moaning under me.” His words are dripping with lust as he starts to pick up his pace and devour your lips.
Your skin is on fire and you feel a tell-tale knot forming in your lower stomach. It’s almost too much when you run your nails down his back and he moans as you brush against his wings. You feel his cock twitch inside you, so you wrap your legs around his waist and full-on caress the leathery membrane.
Cassian stops his movements, and in a split second his large hand is wrapped around your throat, not stopping air flow, but it's enough pressure that you stop touching his wings. “Think you can top from down there?” he growls getting closer to your ear. “I don’t think so love.” his thrusts become punishingly fast and hard.
The whole bed is shaking as you tilt your head back, Cassian's hand still holding you down by your throat. You smile at the feeling, but it’s soon replaced with a scream that sounds like the Illyrian's name when he uses his free hand to play with your clit.
“Cas- I’m so close, pleas-”
You fall, no hurl, over the edge when Cass whispers “Cum for me beautiful, let me see you come undone.” and come undone is exactly what you do.
Your vision is spattered with stars as wave after wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you. Cassian isn’t far behind you. Two sloppy thrusts later and the male is practically roaring as his release hits him.
He falls to his side beside you, both of you are breathing heavily and are covered in a sheen of sweat. You look over at him, expecting him to get up and head to his part of the house, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up and goes to get a wet cloth and cleans you both up.
“Cass,” you start, but he silences you with a kiss.
“We’ll talk in the morning. Right now I just want to fall asleep with you. Okay?” The look in his eyes melts your heart. How could you say no to him?
“Okay,” you reply and snuggle closer to his warm chest.
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Thanks for reading!
#cassian smut#cassian x reader#acotar#cassian x you#acotar smut#rhysand sister#smut#this kinda just happened guys idk
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Could you do one with Rhys and where reader has a small fear of heights? Like he would totally tease her about her fear but also wants to help her get over it because well, her mate is half Illyrian and has wings but she does like to go flying with him.
Yessss, writing for Rhys is so much fun! This one is a bit silly lol
You felt the incessant tugging on the bond that told you Rhysand wanted you to go to him. You sighed deeply, rolled your eyes towards Mor who occupied the twin armchair to yours before the fire, and made your way out onto the balcony to find Rhys, Cassian and Azriel hovering a few feet away from the edge with their beautiful wings beating calmly.
“What are you boys up to?” You grumbled as you passed the threshold of the door.
“Hello darling. We are trying to finish our rematch but we need a referee as Cassian keeps halting play,” Rhys drawled accusingly towards his brother.
“Only because you two keep working together to make me lose, which is cheating!” exclaimed Cassian, throwing the ball at Azriel’s head only for his shadows to swoop up and catch it for him. “And Azriel keeps using his shadows!”
Your rolled your eyes once again. The three Illyrians had been playing this stupid ballgame for centuries, and it still caused endless arguments and rematches every time they played. The purpose of the game was to fly with the ball from one side of the house of wind to the other without losing the ball or dropping too much in altitude. The other two would try to stop the one with the ball, and once they lost possession, whoever took it would take his turn. Usually Amren acted as referee as she was the most impartial but she was hauled up in her apartment with Varian for the weekend and had made very detailed threats against anyone who might disturb them.
“I don’t even know the rules, how am I supposed to referee?” you directed your question to your mate as he landed on the balcony before you and put his arm around your shoulder to guide you closer to the railing.
“It’s easy, you just shout whenever two people team up against the other, or the person with the ball flies too low or too high. Here, I’ll perch you on the railing so you can see properly,” he offered, preparing to scoop you up.
“No! I-I mean I can see from here perfectly fine, I don’t need to be up there,” you protested, backing away from Rhys and raising a hand in front you to maintain some distance between you both.
Rhys frowned, not used to you flinching away from him for any reason. Cassian and Azriel flittered marginally closer as well in an instinctive response to the panic radiating from you.
“My love, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked.
“Nothing, I’ll just referee from here. It’s more sheltered from the wind,” you responded, trying to sound breezy and relaxed. You stepped back towards your mate and gave him a kiss on the cheek before ushering him towards his brothers, but he didn’t budge and continued frowning at you as though trying to solve a difficult puzzle. The silence was broken by Cassian’s sudden loud laugh.
“Don’t tell me the high lady of the night court is scared of heights,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Of course she’s not, she’s been flying with me lots of times,” Rhysand responded on your behalf before looking down at you for confirmation. You just looked sheepishly back at him. “Sweetheart you’re not scared of heights, are you?”
“I’m not scared, I just… prefer to be on the ground,” you defended yourself, much to Cassian and Azriel’s amusement.
“But all those times I took you flying?” Rhys was still looking utterly perplexed by your confession.
“You love it and I love you so I close my eyes and just focus on my breathing. It’s not so bad when you’re holding me but I would really rather not sit on the edge of a railing from which I might fall to my death,” you explained, hoping his feelings weren’t hurt.
“You know one of us would catch you before you’d even made it past the library window,” Azriel pointed out, having elbowed Cassian in an unsubtle hint to stop laughing.
“I know, I didn’t say it was a rational fear. I just don’t like heights,” you shrugged towards the shadowsinger. Unfortunately, while your attention was elsewhere, you missed the silent conversation happening between your mate and the General who was still hovering in midair.
“Please forgive me for this darling.” Before you could register what was happening, or even scream, Rhys had hoisted you into him arms and taken flight. Once there was nothing below you, he dipped you down slightly before launching you into the air. For a split second, there was nothing holding you. Just the chilly wind and the damp air caressed you as you seemed to float for a breath before beginning to plummet towards the earth. In one more half-moment, another set of warm tattooed arms snatched you out of the air and your wild eyes met the grinning face of Cassian.
You were too winded to speak and this time, you barely had time to panic when his arms disappeared from under you and dropped you into the waiting embrace of Azriel ten feet below. This time, you immediately wound your arms tightly round the Illyrian’s neck.
“What the hell?!” You screeched, your face red from the wind and your entire body shaking from adrenaline.
“We’re sorry, we’re sorry! But you can’t be the mate of an Illyrian if you’re scared of heights!” Rhysand apologised, holding out his arms in an attempt to remove you from Azriel’s hold. But you kept your grip tight as you glared at him. “Look at you now though! Eyes open, still alive. Didn’t you enjoy the thrill, even a little bit?”
You took a second to consider what he’d said. You were thousands of feet in the air with only your trust in these three males to stop you from hurtling to your death, and yet you weren’t having a panic attack. You actually felt quite invigorated.
“Fine, maybe a little bit. But only because Azriel is carrying me,” you snarked at Rhys. He pouted jokingly as Azriel laughed quietly in your ear.
“You’d better come back to me my love, or else I’ll get jealous and who knows what I’ll do,” Rhys replied, sending a glimmer of taunting arousal through the bond to make you shiver.
You held you arms out towards your mate but he took just one of your hands and tugged you from Azriel’s grip just as the shadowsinger disappeared from under you. For a moment, Rhys allowed your toes to dangle high above the city as he held you with a firm but casual grasp of your hand. With little effort, he tugged you upward and swept you into his arms once more before returning you both to the balcony where he perched on the railing with you stood between his legs.
“Still scared?” he whispered in your ear, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.
“No,” you murmured, standing on your tiptoes to ghost your lips against his. “But you’re insane if you think I’ll be your referee after that stunt.” In one quick move, you shoved your mate off the balcony and joined his brothers in delighted laughter at the squeak he let out before his wings began flapping enough to steady him in mid air.
Without another word, you flounced back into the living room to resume your glass of wine with Mor, vaguely aware of Cassian and Azriel scolding Rhys for ruining their chances of a fair game.
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azriel x eris | 3,2k words | warnings: domestic violence | masterlist
The chilling water laps against his skin, each splash sending a shockwave of icy cold through his body that slowly manages to cool down his overheated blood.
Tears mix with droplets of water on his face, tasting salty when they slip through his parted lips. His hair falls free from its restraint, the leather strap now somewhere discarded in the water.
In damp waves, his long auburn hair cascades down his back and toned chest. Eris dips his head under the water again, stays there for a moment, letting the cool liquid fully embrace him, hold him, until he appears above the surface and draws in a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He uses both hands to smooth back his hair, face turned skywards, eyes closed.
He is completely alone, nothing but silence surrounding him, but the shadowsinger’s voice is loud and clear within his mind when he is taken back in time. “Keep Morrigan‘s name out of your filthy mouth.”
That’s what Azriel told him after he had tackled him to the ground during the High Lord’s meeting before the war with Hybern. It had nothing to do with what Azriel said to him when he held him to the ground, the whole weight of the tall Illyrian pressing down on him, but the closeness of his body that made the bond snap in place for Eris.
Back then, Eris completed ignored the mention of Mor, his thoughts only swirled around the awareness that seeped into every fibre of his body, and the fear of anyone in the room finding out about it, scenting it — it would have been a catastrophe, and every day since the damn High Lord’s meeting he has been thanking the Mother that no one has figured out his biggest secret so far.
It happened the moment Azriel’s hands reached for him; the closeness of their bodies pulled a lever within him that made him see Azriel for what he truly was. His mate. For what he truly is. Nothing has changed. He hasn’t rejected the bond, and even if he did it wouldn’t change anything about the fact that Azriel is his—
Mate. How fucking twisted this all is, Eris thinks. No matter how hard he tries, he can't stop thinking about Azriel. The smell of the shadowsinger still lingers in his nose, and the skin where Azriel touched him still tingles from the soft caress of his callused hands. It feels like they're meant to be together, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. Two sides of the same coin - equals, a match that has been made for one another.
“Because that’s what it’s like when you have a fucking mating bond!”
With his loud and frustrated groan, he startles the ducks swimming nearby. They squawk and flap away, disturbed by the sudden loud noise.
He tries again to push Azriel from his mind, finally wanting to get rid of those thoughts that plague him, but he doesn’t manage to do so. Azriel gets under his skin so easily and Eris knows that despite the hate, his soul begs him to claim the shadowsinger as his.
He can’t ignore it any longer. Azriel is his mate, and nothing will change that, not even their hate for each other. He can’t stop thinking about Azriel, and when the shadowsinger is close, or worse, kisses him, his brain circulates short and all worries are forgotten. He just gives himself to the spymaster without a care in the world, until the moment is over and all the complications and regrets and worries crash down on him like an avalanche, snowing him under a large pile of problems amd remorse.
Eris slowly glides through the water until more and more of his pale skin is exposed to the chilly air, gooseflesh appearing all over his skin. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, throbbing with need, but he wouldn’t dare touch himself to the thought of Azriel — never would he do so. It would only give way to fantasies he tries so hard to avoid. It would give him hope, and Eris is not one to dwell on hope.
The Autumn court heir turns his head, and cranes his neck. He rolls back his shoulder. His eyes try to focus on a place in the distance, lids swollen and heavy.
Suddenly, he sees it bright and clear, though, almost like it is exactly the fateful day again —520 years ago— and it sends a bolt of icy cold right through his chest, almost like the blade of a dagger cutting into his heart.
“One of your Illyrian brutes will pick you up.”
Disdain laces his features when he stares down at her, all exposed and wounded skin. He isn’t disgusted about what she had done, how she had ruined their union, only about the measures her family has taken, what they had done to her.
“Thank y—” Morrigan‘s pale, dry lips close when Eris cuts her off by holding up his hand.
“Don‘t thank me. I only need to get rid of my garbage before it grows roots.”
Hurt flashes in the female’s eyes. The emotion is so strong, so pure, it wrenches Eris‘ heart. Nevertheless he needs to keep his mask on, needs to pretend to be exactly how everyone pictures him. Cruel. Lethal. Mean.
“Let me thank you, Eris.” Morrigan whimpers when she tries to move and Eris fights the urge to reach for her, take care of each of her wounds and tell her she will be alright. But this is not like him, this is not who he should be.
He shakes his head. “I’m not doing this for you, you are a slut and brought shame upon me and my family. I need to get rid of you as quickly as possible before more people hear about it or worse, see you like this.”
Despite all the pain, the shame, the cold, her brown eyes meet his and she clenches her jaw. She pins him with a look, grinding her teeth hard, to bite down on the sob that threatens to escape her. “You are not as bad as you make everyone believe, Eris.”
Eris demeanour threatens to falter for a second, but he doesn’t allow it. “Shut your mouth!”
“And your secret…it is safe with me.”
How would she—? How could she—? A kernel of anxiousness blooms in his chest about other people knowing. Someone else finding out. It is his secret, only his, how could she possibly—
His distress must have been obvious in his eyes, and Morrigan can read it all there and says, “My power is truth. You are just like me. We are more similar than you think.”
Fear turns into anger, and Eris spits onto the ground, right next to her head. “I‘m nothing like you. Because you are scum and a slut, and someone like me could never fall so low and hit rock-bottom so hard.”
Everything after it turned into a blur. Eris doesn’t remember much about what happened next, only Morrigan’s tears that ran down her cheeks, and so much blood. There was so much blood. All around her.
He knows that he stayed there, not with her but close by to make sure she really gets picked up and doesn’t die before. Azriel picked her up.
He swallows against a knot in his throat, there’s a dull ache at the back of his mouth. His eyes burn when he forces them close to clamp down on the tears. He lets the wind dry him (he has no towel after all), then dons his clothes – undergarments, shirt, breeches, jacket, socks and boots. And lastly, he ties his still damp hair back into a low ponytail with a new leather strap.
A cold huff parts his lips. All these years, and only Morrigan knows his secret. Azriel does know too, but only because of his actions, never because he talked about it. And Azriel only knows about Eris’ desire, not what he truly feels in his heart.
Eris finds himself wondering why Morrigan hasn’t told anyone. Maybe because she is afraid he will reveal her secret as well which makes him wonder…
The Night Court is probably equally traditional about such beliefs, not accepting them, not deeming them right. For that reason, he doubts that Azriel told anyone – the brute is probably equally ashamed of their interactions as he is.
Eris arrives in the Spring Court a few minutes later. Ignoring his original idea to ride here, he simply decided to winnow.
He finds himself standing in calf-high grass that reaches almost up to the edge of his boots. Using his hand, he shields his face from the burning sunlight when he takes in the building in front of him, veiled in ivy and roses that have lost their bloom. Nevertheless, they stretch across the whole front of the building, and probably all around.
Eris isn’t the biggest fan of Spring – not because of its ruler, but rather because everything blossoms and blooms, and there are bugs and bees everywhere, buzzing and humming. He prefers Autumn, loves Autumn more than anything else.
Eris rolls back his shoulders when he sets out for the ginormous building. He knocks, rasping his knuckles against the large white door, knowing it is useless anyway. He could have winnowed right into the building, but he is male with manners, he wouldn’t just march into Tamlin’s home like that.
No answer comes and so Eris slowly opens the door, revealing the corridor, only illuminated by a few strays of sunlight creeping in through the thick curtains that frame the windows. Cobwebs grace the walls and ceiling and a grimace tugs on the corners of Eris’ mouth.
The building has come down, Tamlin no longer taking care of it – he is a broken male, and it also shows in his home.
Eris lifts his hand to brush away some of the spiderwebs, grinding his teeth hard – he just dislikes those…insects.
Clearing his throat from all the dust and maybe also mould clogging it, he lifts his eyes and spots the blonde male, whom he once used to call a friend, through a half-open door at the end of the corridor. His head rests atop his arm on a table, his shirt is unbuttoned from what Eris can make out, and dirty.
Eris scrunches his nose, an awful stench lying in the air, reeking of dead animal. Eris fights against his grimace, and hopes that his loud footsteps and the creaking floorboards announce his presence and he doesn’t startle Tamlin too much.
He pities the High Lord of Spring, wonders if he will ever find his way back into life. After everything that has happened to him, Eris doubts it though. He wishes to aid the High Lord, but at the same time doesn’t know how – it isn’t his problem to deal with, but maybe once he is High Lord himself, he will find a way to support the male who used to be his friend in a time when no one else was. A male who gave his little brother shelter and who became a friend to Lucien when no one else was…
“Tamlin.” No formal greeting is necessary, Eris thinks, as the High Lord of Spring would in his desolate state not appreciate it anyway.
Tamlin lifts his head and turns to Eris, no hint of surprise on his face that the male is suddenly standing in his home – he must have heard him. A stubble graces his jaw, his eyes swollen and empty when they lock on Eris.
“Is it done? Are you here to deliver the happy message?” Tamlin wipes a bandaged hand through his hair, no longer golden, now greyish, matted, and straightens up. His shirt is indeed unbuttoned, and a slash reaches from his left pectoral down to his abdomen.
Eris raises his brow, but before he gives the High Lord an answer, he unlinks his hands from behind his back and points at the wound, leaking blood and puss. “Who did this to you?”
“Don’t act like you care.” Tamlin shakes his head, but then realises there is no point in arguing and so he points at the animal, probably a deer, lying on the kitchen counter. This animal must be the reason for the awful stench within the manor.
“But since you are so nosy, it didn’t really want to be caught.”
Eris bows his head in answer, then folds his hands behind his back again. “It is not done yet.”
Tamlin snorts. “Time to grow some balls then?”
“Tamlin, there is no need for you to be rude to me. I’m not your enemy and I have never been. I’m not here for any quarrel.” Eris takes another step into the room, closer to the High Lord of Spring. “I am here to ask a favour of you.”
The blond male raises a brow. “That is?”
“In case my brothers need a place to go…if things don’t go as planned…”
“They can come here.”
“Thank you.” Eris dips his chin, trying to hold Tamlin’s gaze, but the Spring Court male lifts his hand. Slowly, he shakes his head and Eris is sure he can spot some wetness appearing in Tamlin’s green eyes.
“Don’t thank me,” the High Lord says in a hoarse voice. “I failed Lucien and lost the only person who really cared about me, it’s the least I can do.” He clears his throat. “You can leave now, Eris.”
Eris understands his dismissal and respects it, out of politeness and gratitude. He dips his chin once more and pivots away from the High Lord. Eris is almost out of the door when he turns to look back over his shoulder.
Tamlin is still looking at him and then a smile appears on his lips, one that doesn’t reach his eyes, but it is a smile – something no one has really seen on Tamlin’s face in the past years. “Long may you reign, Eris Vanserra, future High Lord of the Autumn Court.”
Eris folds a hand over his heart and bows at the waist, gratitude visible within his amber eyes before mist starts to swirl around him.
He isn’t prepared for what awaits him at the forest house.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Only minutes later those same eyes that have formerly displayed gratitude now take in the cruelty of what has happened in the meantime in the Autumn Court, during his absence.
A shout splits his lips, one that he wanted to hold back but couldn’t, the sight too awful.
"That‘s your doing," Beron drawls, smirking when his eyes light up with venomous fire. "You brought this upon him."
Eris can only stare wide-eyed at his brother kneeling on the ground, the blood leaking from his mouth, the bruised eyes, the burned skin on his torso, his shirt ripped, burned.
Eris’ body feels like caving in, his entire being shaking so hard his head starts to feel dizzy. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears when he realises what has been done to his little brother. His jacket slips out of his hold, landing next to him on the ground.
"My second-oldest is a traitor just like my oldest." Beron tsks and before Eris can protect himself a flash of icy heat hits his arm and the side of his chest.
He falls to the ground, crying out from the pain erupting in his arm and in his kneecaps. It hurts so much, it hurts more than the lashes, the cuts, because Beron is now using his powers – the powers of a High Lord.
Despite the pain, Eris tips up his chin and clenches his jaw. He is stronger than this, and within him he already has the powers of the future High Lord. He won’t let his father win. Even if he can’t fight him right now, he won’t allow himself to show vulnerability.
“How–” he breathes, forcing his eyes to meet his father‘s, he allows him to see the disdain within them. The hate.
Beron stalks forward, not deigning his second oldest a look. Kallax has shifted a little, now leaning bloody and bruised against the wall, his gaze focused on Eris even across the distance. He keeps calm, his arm folded over his wounded chest and the sight of him shatters Eris’ soul. He has always tried to protect his brothers, has always taken the pain for him. This is upon him now. He brought Kallax into this situation.
Beron snorts, then tilts his head to the side. “How I found out about your secret little meeting?” the High Lord of Autumn tabs his index finger against his chin, then smiles wickedly.
Eris‘ chest heaves with a deep inhale, the gaping wound on his arm, aching fiercely. Beron only laughs when his eyes dip to his son‘s arm.
“I have spies in the war camps, and what a surprise that both my oldest and second oldest left at the same time and were nowhere to be found anymore.”
Panic sprouts to life within Eris’ chest, so strong his stomach coils, its content souring. Helpless. He feels helpless. Is helpless. It was all for nothing. Every damn thing he has done to bring him closer to ending Beron‘s life…it was all for nothing. It ends here. Nothing will ever change, not until Beron dies which now will probably never happen.
This is the end of the Autumn Court. This is the end of Prythian.
Bile crawls up his throat and before he can stop himself, he empties out his stomach onto the dark marble floor. Beron can only laugh at the sight of it, taking a step to the side, further away from the puddle of puke in front of his son.
He surrounds it, walking to Eris with fast steps. Another shock of icy heat hits him, this time in the from of Beron’s palm connecting with his cheek.
“Traitor,” Beron spits into his face, saliva flying from his mouth.
Eris hates himself more than anyone else in this moment. He has been too careless, too reckless in his endeavours. No fault falls upon Kallax, he must have broken under torture — he would never blame him for that. He brought his little brother into this, brought this upon him…
Beton crouches down when he is only mere inches away from his oldest. Lethal calm laces his features. He yanks back his head by grabbing a handful of his hair, then assess Eris, slowly but with a predatory gaze, eyes sharp and piercing.
“You thought you could go behind my back, huh?” Eris tightens the hold he has on Eris’ hair. “You thought I wouldn't notice that you are trying to remove the troops from the Summer Court border?” Beron clicks his tongue, his grasp tightening. “You thought they wouldn’t be necessary and that I am driven by fear and not in my right mind, is that right?”
Awareness fills his entire being and despite the pain a kernel of hope and thankfulness takes root in his heart.
Kallax lied for him.
Despite being punished and tortured, his brother lied for him.
“You are my brother, Eris,” he had told him. And meant it. Eris sucks in a sharp breath, but Beron isn’t done. The words that leave his mouth next make Eris throw up once more.
“Oh, and the pretty little spy of yours – what’s her name?” Beron tabs his index finger against his chin. “She can rot in the dungeons until she is ready to speak, which I won’t have to wait long for…faebane is a cruel thing, right my dear son?”
tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival@owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe @12334555666 @nickishadow139
general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams
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Before I Say Goodnight
Chapter 9
a/n: can't believe that we're already at chapter 9, that's crazyyy
warnings: none, really
Word count: 2.8k
Other chapters
Eyes flutter open and you swear you can still feel a blush heating your cheeks. You had no idea how the kiss -well, kisses- even happened. One moment you were heading to your room, the next you were sitting on the counter while Azriel kissed your mouth and neck… Your whole face is red now. Getting up from the bed, you go to the bathing room and fill the tub with cold water. I need to calm down.
Looking in the mirror you see perfectly braided hair, a beautiful deep purple long sleeved dress that fits your torso snugly and flares beneath the hips paired with delicate sandals only worn on days spent helping the priestesses with menial tasks. You wished you had a necklace to really complete the look but didn’t see the point in purchasing one. Before leaving the room you find a bottle of lavender oil you had been using for relaxing baths and aromatherapy and place a few drops on your neck and wrists. Since arriving, you have never put that much effort into how you look. Your priorities having always been lying elsewhere but… you can’t deny that you like Azriel. At the thought, a girlish grin appears on your face. You hadn’t liked anyone since Mathew. When that relationship ended everything else in your life seemed to fall apart and romance was the last thing you were thinking about. Even on your trip, you had seen attractive people all over but never made an effort to speak to them. Mathew… you wonder what he’s been doing. It has been nearly a month of you being gone. Disappeared. A month… the smile vanishes, replaced by a subtle frown. You had been so desperate to return once you arrived, the shock of a new world sending you into panic mode. But guilt fills you up as you realize that the last few days you had barely thought of getting back. You think of your friends and your family all the time, but the urge to see them again has… diminished to a certain degree. Life in the House of Wind has been very comfortable, but just abandoning your whole life is a giant leap to make because of comfort. You compose yourself, not wanting to go into a spiral before having breakfast, and head to the dining room.
You’re relieved and horrified to see that only Azriel is in the dining room this morning. “Good morning” you greet and sit down, immediately filling up your plate with an egg dish that looks delicious. He clears his throat “good morning”.The only noise is metal lightly scraping against delicate porcelain. Shadows lurk their way towards your face, no doubt telling their master what they see. You haven’t looked at him yet. Blush still wild on your cheeks. Images of his hands, his beautiful scarred hands, and all the places they touched replaying over and over and over. He pulls his shadows back and clears his throat again “did you sleep well?” It had been sun up by the time you two had disentangled, but for at least a few hours you had managed to sleep without the disturbing nightmares. “Yes, what about you?” he shook his head, “I had training at dawn”. Your eyes widen and you finally look at him. He looks great, freshly bathed, his hair still damp and his Illyrian leathers hug his biceps in such a way… You look away from him again and focus all of your attention on the eggs. “About last night…” Azriel begins and your throat closes up “what about it?” He pauses and continues “we can pretend it didn’t happen if you want” you look at him again, brow furrowed. “Why would we do that?” he shrugs “it’s just a suggestion, I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us”. “Do you want to forget about it?” He remains still, you swear you can see his internal debate. After a moment he shakes his head “no”. “Me neither, but I think we should remain friends, until the portal thing gets resolved” he looks at you, unwavering. “Do you want to go back?” You shrug “I think I have too” “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want”. You break the stare “I don’t know Az, I really don’t” when you look back his face has softened and he nods “it’s ok”. You finish your food and pour yourself some tea, “Lucien is going to be at the River House today, do you want to go?” You perk up at the mention of the red haired male “of course”.
It had been a while since you had visited the beautiful house on the river bank. Autumn had changed the leaves' colors to shades of red, orange and yellow. You had been excited to hear that Lucien was finally coming to the Night Court. He was the first to help you here, even if it had been a… rough start. You missed him and the other exiles, forever saving a place in your heart for them. “Who invited you?” Lucien teased once he saw you walk through the main door. You roll your eyes but can’t help the little walk-skip-run you do to hug him “you shouldn’t speak to me like that, emissary. You never know how useful I could become for your diplomatic endeavors” you say in a mock-stern voice. “I’ll see you at lunch, Rhysand wants to get the meeting out of the way” you nod and he walks into the High Lord’s study. Azriel speaks “I’ll me at the meeting too, Elain is in the kitchen if you want company in the meantime” “alright, see you later”.
The kitchen smelled of yeast and sugar and flour. “Hi, Elain” she didn’t look up from the cake she was decorating as she greeted you in return. There was a big mess everywhere you looked. You could clearly tell where she had mixed the frostings to make different colors and where she had combined all of the ingredients to make the cake batter. You even spotted where she had kneaded the bread that was currently in the oven. “Want me to help you clean up?” she looked up at that, eyes filled with genuine gratitude “I would appreciate it if you could” and offered a sheepish smile. Despite the mess all around her she looked perfectly intact. Maybe she has some sort of magical stain repellent. “Is there an apron I can put on?” without stopping her task she answers “there are some in the first drawer” and motions with her head. You put on the apron, roll your sleeves up and get to work.
Wiping the sweat off your brow and fanning yourself with a rag you admire your work. The kitchen was spotless. You were very tempted to take a slice of the cake but had already been warned that it was for after lunch. “Are you happy to see Lucien?” You asked Elain, but quickly regretted it because you were not nearly close enough to her to ask questions about something so personal “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer. I just know about the mating bond but it’s none of my business”. She sighs, like she’s been thinking about it all along. “It’s ok, but to be honest, I don’t know” you nod and are surprised as she goes on in a hushed voice “he is a good male. Truly, he is, you know that. But before this life I was engaged to man that I was in love with. We had chosen each other and were committed to a lifetime together” she looks directly at you for the first time today “and the promise of that was ripped away from me along with my humanity. The concept of mates is still new to me, but my sisters and I have been told that we have been very lucky in that regard. And I can’t deny that I feel attracted to him, like I’m being pulled to be near him constantly. When he’s away I feel it in my bones… but I didn’t choose him. He was assigned to me by some predetermined fate. And I’m constantly suppressing the instinct to be with him because it is the only shred of free will I have left. If I choose to be with him, I’d feel like I’d be forfeiting the last part of myself that I have control over” you had never heard her speak so much. Reaching for her hand, placing yours atop hers “in my realm, I felt very similarly to you. I felt like I was being controlled and molded into someone that just was not me. I had a fiancé and instead of feeling lucky I felt like I was drowning and everyone in my life kept pushing me underwater. So I ran, I left it all behind and… well now I’m here. It did not go how I thought it was going to but” you lower your voice, hearing the doors to the study open “I don’t regret making my own decisions. I asked you because I’m nosy but if you want my unsolicited advice” she nods, “do whatever you need to do, even if it takes you out of your comfort zone. Travel, meet new people, share your knowledge with someone, visit a neighbor, whatever but don’t lock yourself away”. She squeezes your hand and smiles gently.
After lunch you go outside to enjoy the sun. As winter approaches the days get shorter, making every drop of sunshine extra precious. The rest of the group stayed inside near the toasty hearth. The constant breeze that comes from the Sidra chips away at your exposed skin and you shiver. A warmth emanating male comes to stand next to you. You take a side step to be closer to him “how was the meeting?” Lucien looks around and answers “fine, there weren’t many updates to give. How has it been here?” You look at him and realize you trust him. In the beginning you had to, it was your only option. Now, you trust him because he’s earned it “Azriel and I kissed last night” you just had to tell someone and prayed to god none of his shadows would not report this back to him. Lucien’s eyes widen and he laughs, a bit too loudly in your opinion. “Want to elaborate?” you shook your head “I just needed to tell someone” “I’m flattered”. You scoff “you should be” a harsh gust blows some strands of hair out of your braid and your eyes water from the cold “it was a bit weird in the morning but then it was fine. I don’t know what to think about it though, since I’m supposed to leave soon”. Lucien lifts a sharp brow “he wasn’t fond of the idea of you returning, something about a trap?” “It’s just a feeling I have, and the nightmares don’t help” “Rhysand is eager to try the portal” you laugh at that “I get the feeling he doesn’t like me very much”. Lucien chuckles “he really only likes Feyre”. You remain quiet for a bit until Lucien speaks again “you are supposed to fly down to the clearing tomorrow”. Ice runs through your veins now, a mixture of the wind and the impending trip back home. “Oh” is all you manage to get out.
You open the drawer to your bedside table and place the few belongings you have in your bag. The clothes you had worn on your first day here were clean and folded atop the dresser. You were ready to go home. There wasn’t much to pack. The group had gone to Rita’s for dinner and it was a nice distraction for about an hour, Azriel had flown you to the House of Wind after you finished eating. You hadn’t spoken much to him today. Not knowing what to say or what to think or what to feel. Nervous? Excited? Scared? You take your blanket from the bed and sit in front of the windows. It could very well be your last night here, the view was something you’d want to remember and you curse at yourself for not taking a picture when you still had a phone.
The flight to the clearing was brutal. The temperature was so much lower in the skies and without any type of shield it felt like razors were slicing through any exposed skin. So you were extremely relieved to have landed in the still temperate Mortal Lands, autumn here was still in its early stages and by the looks of it they still had several weeks before the cold made life more difficult. You had been helping Gwyn with the symbols by holding up her notebook while she drew every line with a thick white pigment. “The lines must be intact” she had said sternly when Cassian groaned about carrying two cans of it. She was nearly done now, only a few more symbols to complete the circular portal. That’s when Azriel asked Cassian to hold the notebook. You looked at him with narrowed eyes as he led you away from them. “I don’t think you should go”. No words came out when you opened your mouth. You try again “what?” It comes out as a whisper. “I don’t think you should go” you huff “why?” He inhales “because the risks are far too big and I don’t think you want to go back but are afraid to admit it to yourself” you cross your arms at your chest, defensive “why would you say that?” His voice is steady “I agree with you, I think it’s a trap” you shake your head “no, why do you think I don’t want to go back to my home?” His expression is stern now “y/n, you’ve told me about your home. I don’t think you were happy there, you could be happy here-” “Doing what? Looking for books my whole life and then drop dead in that damn library while all of you keep living? Azriel, I can’t stay locked away at the house forever”. He pinches the bridge of his nose “that’s not what I’m saying, you could find something else to do, anything really. You could find a place to live in town and build a life for yourself” he’s pleading, your heart feels like it’s in your throat. He goes on “what do you have to get back to anyways?”. You step back from him “you cannot be serious, I have family, friends. Azriel I have a whole life and I can’t just throw it all away. I have no future here, no sense of belonging, no career, nothing” he steps closer to you “I’m saying you could have any life you want here, I’ll help you-”
“Stop” he stops talking, his shadows have curled around your legs, anchoring you. “Guys, this is pretty much ready” you hear Gwyn announce. You tear your eyes from Azriel and look at the nearly completed circle. Only one line remained.
“I don’t want our last conversation to be like this,” you say. Azriel insists, “y/n please, stay, you’re being stubborn”. Your eyes roar “you’re being an ass” and walk over to Gwyn and Cassian. They are pretending they didn’t hear every word of your conversation. “Do it” and with a final stroke Gwyn finishes the portal. The four of you stare at the circle in the center and… nothing. Absolutely nothing happened. You feel Azriel sag with relief “Gwyn, what happened?” You ask, she’s double and triple checking the markings on her notebook “I don’t know… we must be missing something, the marks are perfect” you take a breath and turn to Azriel “happy?” he puts his hands behind his back “I think it’s good you’ll have more time to think about what is best for you” you roll your eyes “don’t treat me like a child, just because I'm not a million years old doesn’t mean that I don’t know what’s best for me”. You don’t, and you weren’t feeling one hundred percent sure about returning. But that was your decision, not anyone else’s. “Cassian, can you take me to the Manor?” Azriel looks confused “let’s just go home, y/n. We can be back before nightfall” you shake your head. “No, you guys can go, I’m staying here for a while”. Azriel goes to move towards you but you walk towards Cassian “please?” He nods and you leap into the sky before Azriel can say anything else.
“Too bad the portal didn’t work out,” Lucien says. “Yeah, too bad” you sit looking at the hearth. “What are you going to do now?”
You shrug “I have no idea”.
tag list: @luvmoo
#acosf#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acofas#jurian acotar#acotar fanfiction#rhysand#lucien vanserra#acowar#acomaf#elain x lucien#lucien acotar#elain archeron#elain acotar#azriel and elain#gwyneth berdara#gwyn acosf#gwyn berdara#nesta archeron#cassian#a court of silver flames#nesta x cassian#nessian#eris vanserra#eris acotar
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Terrible Twos
Cassian x Reader
Summary: Anon Requests: "I’d love to see a little fic where Cass deals with a toddler tantrum😂🥰pls" and "More dad cass"
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,162
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You pinch the bridge of your nose, exasperated as your son lies on the cobblestones before you, screaming and crying, his little fists pounding into the stones beneath him.
It had been a mistake to take Gideon, freshly two years old, out into the Rainbow when he hadn’t taken his nap.
He’d caught sight of the pastries in the window, face pressed up against the glass, wide-eyed as he begged you for a dessert. But once the little squirt heard the word ‘no’ he’d begun banging on the window in a fit of rage, the workers indoors startling at the noise.
And you are really paying the price for telling him no.
You are really no match for Gideon, the little boy twisting and turning violently in your arms after you’d scooped him up and away from the bakery, kicking his legs out and pushing against you. Like his father in so many ways, he is stubborn as hell and can put up a good fight.
He’d nearly slipped from your arms and you set him down so he wouldn’t hurt himself, fat tears streaming down his chubby cheeks as he points at the bakery behind you, wailing for a treat.
You give awkward smiles to the passerby as you stick an arm out, stopping your son from running back up to the shops windows. He pinches at your arm, ever the frustrated Illyrian babe, brows furrowed and nose bright red and scrunched up in fury.
It’s normally cute when he makes this face, but paired with a wail louder than a banshee, disturbing the peacefulness of the city, it’s not so adorable.
You’ve dealt with plenty of tiny Illyrian tantrums before, but today was just not either of your days as you call out to Rhys with your mind, begging him to answer as Gideon throws himself down again, rolling onto his stomach as if that’s going to get him what he wants.
You called? The High Lord’s voice purrs in your mind. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, the whole mind speaking thing. It feels like his voice is rattling around in your already pounding head, setting you on edge even more.
Tell Cassian to come get his child, please. You grit, triedly.
His child? He asks and you can tell that he’s holding back a laugh. You roll your eyes, sitting yourself down on the street by your son. The High Lord must sense that now is not the time for joking so he continues promptly, He’s on his way.
Your head feels lighter when Rhys retreats, shoulders releasing some of the pent up tension now that you know reinforcements are on their way.
It’s all you can do, head propped up on fists, watching Gideon as his tantrum ensues, screaming so loudly you’re sure it can be heard across Velaris.
Maybe he’s calling out to his cousins, Nyx and Wren. The three of them must have some sort of code by now, always so loud when they’re playing together. You bet they both had their naps today.
A large shadow flies overhead and you use a hand to block the sun, watching as your mate lands with quiet grace a few feet away. He looks like a true hero, an adoring smile on his face and shooting a soft look at you, hazel eyes letting you know that he understands how tired and frustrated you are.
He’s dressed in his leathers, and had been in a short meeting with his brothers early this afternoon, which you really knew meant that they were going to have a few glasses of whiskey and shoot the shit with each other, a nice chance to get away from their mates and sons.
Cassian doesn’t know that you know this, and it’s best for the both of you that he doesn’t.
Gideon hasn’t noticed him yet, face down on the ground with his head buried in his hands, kicking his feet in tantrum.
For a fleeting moment you selfishly hope the crying tires him out so much that he falls asleep.
“What’s wrong, little man?” Cassian asks, sitting cross legged next to Gideon. His wings tuck back and up behind him, not touching the cobblestones, hands placed in his lap, waiting patiently.
Giddy’s cry falters for a moment at the sound of his father’s voice and his head shoots up so fast, wet eyes locking on his father immediately. He scrambles to his feet, stumbling over to his daddy with tear-streaked red cheeks, and Cassian scoops him up, holding him to his chest.
Your mate brushes the tousled hair from your son's face, kissing his chubby cheek as he rubs his back soothingly, whispering soothing words to the child.
You love watching Cassian like this, all soft and caring as he calms Gideon. He is truly the best father and partner, taking care of you both, so much love in his big heart.
Gideon hiccups, pointing to the bakery behind you.
“You have to use your words, buddy,” Cassian soothes, letting his son wipe his runny nose on his shoulder. He would’ve grimaced but he’s used to it by now, would do anything for his son even if it includes being a tissue for his snot and tears.
“Ice cream,” he says, or tries to. It’s interrupted by a shuddering gasp for air and it sounds like he’s saying something else, but you’re easily able to make out his babble.
“What did mommy say?” he asks gently, and Gideon’s teary eyes slide to you. He’s no longer bawling and the presence of his father has him calming down slightly.
“No,” he whines, lip wobbling and you tense, shutting your eyes and praying that he doesn’t start wailing again. You don’t think the townspeople can bear it.
“Then we gotta listen to her, isn’t that right Giddy?” Cassian asks the little boy in his arms. Your son's lip juts out in a pout but he reluctantly nods his head after thinking about his fathers words for a few moments.
“That’s my boy,” Cassian praises, planting a loud kiss on his cheek that makes the little boy squeal with laughter. Your shoulders go lax as you watch them, a small smile on your face. “Now go say sorry to mommy for making a fuss in the street.”
Gideon agrees, running out of his father’s arms and into your open ones. You hug your baby close as he apologizes, clinging tightly to your front.
Some days are a challenge, dealing with a two year old, but this makes it all worth it.
Cassian scoops the toddler up into his arms, the little boy resting his head in the crook of his daddy's neck, eyes already drooping from the exhaustion of the long day. Your mate offers you a hand up, intertwining your fingers once you’re to your feet. He leans down, greeting you with a kiss before you all begin the walk home together.
#cass x reader#cassian#cassian x reader#cassian/you#cassian/reader#acotar#acomaf#acowar#azsazz#daddycass#acotar next gen
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Illyrian Assassin (8)
Pairing: Azriel x OC
Word Count: 2.3k
Warning: past trauma, slow burn
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)
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"You're joking, right?" I asked Cassian two days later in the sitting room at the House of Wind.
Daisy whined about something to Amren as the second in command taught both my sisters the history of our world. Azriel was off doing something for Rhysand, while Mor was at the Palace above the Court of Nightmares, waiting for our High Lord.
"Nope," Cassian said, popping the 'p' as he relaxed against the couch beside me. "He told Mor moments before he left."
I clicked my tongue, holding back a smile. "Only our brother would crash Tamlin's wedding."
"I would've loved to join him," he mused, a wicked grin on his lips. "Imagine the look on Tamlin's face at my appearance beside Rhys."
"Imagine if he saw me," I cut in, lifting my legs up and placing them on his lap. "He might've killed me for what I helped Rhys and his father do in the Spring Court all those years ago."
"I have a strong feeling that that's why Rhys didn't bring either of us. A war would've started."
My face dropped, even as Cassian massaged my feet. "Do you truly think that a War is coming, again?" I lowered my voice, making sure the children don't hear me.
Cassian's hands paused on my feet; his shoulders tensed. "Rhys believes so." Willa laughed, the sound usually comforting to me, only for it to now be an ache at the thought of it being taken from me. Cassian must have noticed my change in mood because he said, "If War comes, those girls will be protected, Rory. They'll be protected by all of us, and I'll personally put my life in front of theirs to protect them, even if it kills me."
"No," I said sternly, cutting a look at him. "If anyone is to die for those girls, it's me. I won't let anyone else risk their lives to protect them."
"It's not your choice if I risk my life to protect them," he countered gently, rubbing my feet again. "They might be your sisters by blood, but they're my sisters too. Everyone else would say the same, I know that for a fact."
I stayed silent, letting the words linger between us before I exhaled and dropped my head back against the arm of the couch. "Then we better make sure that this War doesn't happen."
Cassian grunted his agreement as Mor appeared in the doorway, both her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked her.
"Rhysand," she answered in a tight tone, her hands dropping from her hips as she strolled toward us. "I can't believe he actually took Feyre from her wedding."
"I can," Cassian and I said at the same time, followed by a laugh from Mor. "I would've been more surprised if he didn't take—save her from that wedding. I wonder how the beast is handling the absence of his bride-to-be," I mused, sitting up as she sat down.
"Well, his reaction is probably worse than Feyre's," she mumbled, allowing me to lay my head in her lap. "She threw a shoe at the back of his head."
Cassian howled in laughter, Amren hissing at him seconds later from the loud noise that disturbed the girls learning. My own body shook from quiet laughter as I pictured the once mortal girl throwing a shoe at my brother's head.
"I'll never let him live that down," I chuckled.
"That's exactly why I'm back here," Mor said. "I gave him shit about it and he sent me right back here."
That only made Cassian howl in laughter once again.
"Uncle Cass!" Daisy scolded him from the dining room table.
Amren gave Cassian a smug look while he quickly closed his mouth, but then it was Mor and I howling in laughter at Cassian and Daisy. Only the General would listen to either Willa or Daisy.
"Now I've got you by the balls!"
"Daisy!" Mor and I yelped, my body sitting up like lightening as I widened my eyes at my younger sister who cheekily giggled.
"Rhysand is in shit," Mor grumbled, rubbing her temple. "This is why we were so careful with our words around her."
"It was bound to happen soon," Amren commented, giving Daisy a high-five that I shook my head at.
Powerful beats of wind rocked the veranda glass doors seconds before Azriel landed, his Illyrian armor gleaming against the sun as he tucked his wings closed behind his back. I hadn't had spoken to him since the other day, mainly because he'd been busier than usual with Rhysand, but I was just glad that my sketchbook was back on my bed by the time I went to sleep that night.
The girls looked away from Amren, focusing their attention on the spymaster as he gave them that friendly smile reserved for only them. I sat up, filling the space between Cassian and Mor as heat prickled my skin at just the sight of Azriel. Is it embarrassment I felt? Most likely. He hasn't asked anymore questions about the drawings, and I hope it stays that way.
"Where have you been?" Mor asked Az as he pulled off his leather gloves, revealing the beautiful scars covering his hands.
"Doing work for Rhys, like usual," he answered in a tired tone, sitting down in the armchair across from us. His wings flexed out once before tucking back in and sagging behind him.
"You look tired," Cassian mused, eyeing him closely as Az nodded his head, eyes closing. "Well, I guess it's a bad time to suggest we go to Rita's tonight."
I smiled, facing Mor who was already grinning like a giddy child. It's been too long since any of us have all gone to Rita's for a few drinks and dancing. But then I remembered why we haven't and the smile dropped off my face.
"I can't join you tonight," I said, glancing over my shoulder to the girls still learning with Amren. "Big sister duty, remember?" I faced back to Cass.
"What about their nanny?" Mor questioned, standing up from the couch and raising a brow at me. "I'm sure Evelyn won't mind."
I shook my head. "I can't ask her at the last minute. It would be rude."
"Fine," she stated, strutting away from us. "I'll just go ask her myself and offer a very high sum of money. Extra even."
"Mor," I murmured, sending her a pointed look as Cassian snorted and Azriel opened his eyes, watching only me. "The girls are my responsibility."
She halted, whirling around to face me. "And it's my responsibility, as your best friend, to make sure that you get a break from watching them for at least one night." She raised a brow, challenging me to change her stubborn mind.
"You know she's not going to take no for an answer," Azriel chuckled, looking between the both of us as Cassian threw an arm around my shoulder.
"He's right," she chimed, turning around again and walking away from us. "Start getting ready!"
I failed to hide my smile as I looked at Cassian and then Azriel. "I hope you males remember how to dance."
Mor held my hand as she twirled me between her and Cassian, a melody flowing around us with other High Fae and lesser dancing. Azriel, for whatever reason, decided to stay in our little booth. Not much of a surprise though. Whenever we'd come here, he would always be on alert and watching our surroundings. Must be a spymaster thing.
"Should we make a bet?" Cassian asked, raising his voice over the melody as I slightly bounced on my feet.
Mor dropped my hand, raising a brow at him as she took a sip from her wine. "A bet on what? We're dancing and drinking."
"A bet on if Azriel will take someone to bed," he answered her, my eyes widening as I nearly dropped my wine glass. I wasn't expecting that to come out of his mouth. And part of me bloody hated those words.
Azriel had always had lovers through the centuries. It was no secret. There were even a few times where I'd catch him sneaking back into the House of Wind or walking a female out of his room. I would tease him about it at breakfast the next morning, even if I didn't like it, but that was just how it went. He would have female company some nights, and I would pretend to be fine with it. I never quiet understood why it affected me so much, and instead of spending useless hours thinking about it, I would just throw myself into a bed with a male to distract me.
"You're dreaming," Mor laughed, slapping her hand against his shoulder. "Az hasn't had any female company in months. I'm pretty sure he's been too busy to even think about it."
I stayed silent, watching the two of them as I sipped my wine, needing as much as I can for this.
"That's exactly why we should set him up with someone tonight," Cassian countered, and I coughed into my wine, the liquid splashing against my face.
"What?" I exclaimed, wiping the wine off my face with the back of my hand as they both tried not to laugh at me. "Az is picky with his females," I quickly recovered myself. "He won't just take anyone home." Or at least I hope not. I don't feel like watching him carry a female in his arms back to the House of Wind...Where I now live.
Oh Cauldron, I didn't think this living situation through.
"Oh, come on," Cassian drawled. "We've all noticed how tense he's been lately. He needs this."
I turned toward Mor, hoping she would be against the idea like me, but the grin on her face made my hope drop. "You think it's a good idea too, don't you?" I asked her.
"Cass does have a point. Az has been tensed and quiet lately," she pointed out. "Why don't we make a small game out of this?"
"I think it's a bad idea to make a game out of his lovers," I argued.
But, of course, she ignored me. "The first one to set our dear Az up with a female, gets fifty gold marks from the losers." Her smile could've lit up the whole room as she looked between the two of us.
Cassian agreed to the bet and before I could decline, Mor grabbed my hand and started to drag me toward the booth where I could spot Azriel sipping his beer with Truth-Teller resting on the table like it's not a weapon.
I gulped down the rest of my wine, wanting my soul to be floating out of my body for what's about to happen. Mor let go of my hand as we arrived beside the booth and she slipped in, Cassian standing beside her side of the booth as I stood beside Azriel.
"You look bored, Az," Mor sweetly said, bringing Azriel's attention to her as she smiled at him. "Why don't you join us?"
"Dancing?" He raised a brow, sending her a pointed look. "When was the last time you saw me dance, Mor?"
"I can't even remember," Cassian answered for her, taking the seat beside her.
Azriel focused on them for a long moment, probably knowing that they're up to something. Whenever Mor and Cassian acted like this together, we all knew something was at play. The last time they agreed on an idea together, I returned to my apartment to find Willa's tanned skin had somehow been dyed green. It took me weeks to get rid of it.
Azriel's focus cut to me, his eyes travelling down the red dress Mor allowed me to borrow for tonight. Then slowly, as if savouring every inch me, he looked back up to my eyes and moved over on the seat.
"Do you want to sit down?" he offered me, small butterflies erupting in my stomach. Yep, I'd had enough to drink.
"Sure—"
"Nope," Cassian interrupted as I sent him a small glare, still deciding to take the seat beside Azriel anyway. "There's no point in sitting down when we're all going to the dance floor anyway."
"I agree with Cass," Mor mused with a quiet clap. "While we're dancing, let's find Az some female company to join us."
This time I had to physically morph my face into a fake smile so I wouldn't out right frown at their idea. Why should I care though? I mean, I hate the idea they're presenting, but I'm only Azriel's friend. I should be encouraging them.
"I don't feel like dancing," Azriel said with a bored tone. "Nor do I feel like having a random female keep me company."
Cassian exhaled in defeat. "But why?" he asked before taking a swig of his beer. "There's so many females in here that would pounce on you the second you give them your attention."
Oh, Mother above. Please, do not let me witness that tonight.
Azriel turned to me, and my heart sped up just from the soft look on his beautiful face. "Will you be joining us to dance?"
"Me?" I blurted but quickly recovered, holding up my empty wine glass with a lazy smile. "Oh, no. I need a refill and a break before my feet fall off." I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze and I silently scolded myself.
He gave me a small nod, then turned his attention back to Mor and Cassian who both waited, wicked grins on their faces. "It seems there's no one I want to dance with."
"Stubborn bastard," Cassian muttered, shaking his head at the fact he knew there was no way Az would give in to their peer pressure and join them.
Me on the other hand? I felt my heart ache and my stomach drop with an uneasy feeling. He'd said there's no one he wants to dance with. Which means, he doesn't want to dance with Cassian, or Mor, or...me.
I think I might just need a whole fucking bottle of wine at this point. His words shouldn't affect me at all, yet my whole mood is was ruined.
And why was that damn tugging feeling back in my chest?
#acotar#acotar series#azriel#azriel acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#shadowsinger#cassian#cassian acotar#oldersister#rhysand#wattpad#wattpad writer#night court#illyrian#friends to lovers#found family#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader#acotar x reader#azriel x oc#acotar x oc
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I can't believe this is even a thing going around the fandom but....
Let's stick to facts.
Rhys about Feyre:
Cassian about Nesta:
Lucien about Elain:
If we're talking about ships, at this point in the series, "the most beautiful thing / female he'd ever seen" is reserved for mates.
This is what Az has to say about Elain:
"How that beautiful face might appear."
There is ZERO evidence that Elain is "the most beautiful female he'd ever seen".
Elain is canonically the prettiest of the three sisters, according to Nesta and Feyre. Do you think Cassian and Rhys would agree? She is beautiful to many who have seen her however, she can't be "the most beautiful" to certain males. "The most beautiful" seems to be reserved for how a mate feels about the female he's with and to date, Az has never thought this phrase about any female which means there's a chance he doesn't think Elain is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. It's pretty powerful that Lucien thinks it the first time he ever really gets a look at Elain while Az doesn't think it over a year after knowing her.
Cassian remarks on Mor's beautiful face and how her smile took his breath away. He slept with her and lusted after her but now considers her family so unless you're seeing "the most beautiful" from a male, calling someone beautiful doesn't equal endgame.
Say for arguments sake, Elain is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen (though there's no proof of this) and that's all that matters, then why was he staring at Mor with heat and yearning at Solstice while Elain was in the same room?
Obviously "the most beautiful" doesn't mean all that much if it's not enough to distract Az from Mor while celebrating with both females.
When Cassian said this of Moriel, "Knew Azriel had been in love with Mor from the moment she’d strutted into the Illyrian war-camp fve centuries ago" does the scene at Solstice read as if Elain is coming out on top in the looks department for Az?
But facts are, Az hasn't thought this of any female yet. And anyone trying to claim that just because Elain is considered beautiful by many, Az has to find her the most beautiful female and that's why he can't end up with someone else is a pretty disturbing take.
Helion has seen Elain, he's not trying to bang her (though he did flirt with Nesta). Tamlin and Eris have seen Elain, they're not trying to steal her from Lucien. Despite Elain's renowned beauty, Graysen ended their engagement. Elain can be beautiful and someone can also be attracted to her but that is still not evidence that she's "the most beautiful female" everyone has ever seen.
I'm not going to lie and pretend like beauty in an SJM book isn't a big deal because she loves making multiple characters extremely attractive. Feyre notes Elain's beauty however she also said this of Mor:
Nesta remarks on Elain's beauty but says this of Merrill and Gwyn:
So while it's a thing SJM likes to have characters comment on, it's not really all that special when so many are beautiful. And, it's not Feyre or Nesta's opinion of beauty that matters so much as what the male thinks of the female.
So far, Az's thoughts of Elain's beauty are no more special than that which everyone thinks of Elain, except for Lucien. He once found the love of his life the most beautiful female he'd ever seen until he met Elain.
Trying to claim Az can't end up with Gwyn because she's not "the most beautiful female he'd ever seen" is a problematic argument in the first place but if that's the route someone is going than it only makes them look foolish because he has never thought that of Elain after supposedly falling in love with her. If that's the argument someone wants to use then it's not a point in their favor when two out of three mates who have said this ended up with their mates (with the third still being a possibility). If that's the argument someone wants to use then that means Gwyn could still be the first and only female he ever thinks those words about.
There are many beautiful females in the ACOTAR world and there's a chance that Az has never considered someone "the most beautiful". It's possible that for someone like Az, the thing that will make them the most beautiful is not based on physical appearance alone, but how they make him feel inside. I don't know, like maybe someone who sparks something in his chest 🤷
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Hello. If you dont mind i have a request for azriel where maybe reader has just given birth and has lately been feeling very insecure about her body and azriel comforts her...with lots of fluff
A New Warmth
Sorry about how long this took anon, but I hope the wait was worth it!
-
You watch the baby nestled in the crook of your arms, mirroring her deep breaths to keep yourself calm. She was so soft, so sweet, and whenever she reached for you, it made your heart melt. She was everything you and Azriel had hoped for - healthy, chubby, and sweet as can be. She even had the cutest little wings that twitched in her sleep.
The problem with having an Illyrian baby is you develop an Illyrian’s appetite while pregnant with them, along with the other stretching and tearing your body has gone through to accommodate her.
She was two weeks old at this point, and you knew you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Your body created this - a perfect mirror of you and your mate. But you couldn’t help the negative thoughts fluttering through your mind as your hand rested on your stomach, knowing the fresh stretch marks that lay underneath. You gained a good deal of weight during the pregnancy, your labor only removing about a dozen of those pounds.
As if sensing your spiraling thoughts, your mate walks in the door of your shared bedroom, his eyes alight with love and adoration at seeing his two girls.
“My loves,” he greets the both of you, setting the mugs of tea he had brought down, lifting the blanket to lat next to you. His presence under the blanket providing a new layer of warmth- not just physical, but the warmth of the three of you being together.
You lean your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm behind you, slowly to not disturb the baby in your arms. “Will I ever get my body back?” You mumble into his shoulder. His fingers start caressing your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into it.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think you will.” You want to snap your head up, tell him that’s no way to console someone who had just pushed out his baby out of a tiny opening in their body when he uses his hand to hold your head in place.
“We will never be the same. We cannot go back.” He looks down at the baby in your arms, “maybe one day you’ll have more autonomy again - you won’t have a baby latched to your breast every other hour.”
His hand snakes down to rest on top of the hand you’re using to cradle the baby. “But she’ll always be a part of you.” The baby starts stirring, moving her tiny hands, and he reaches out a finger, which she quickly wraps her delicate fingers around. You both watch the scarred flesh in the pristine grasp of your innocent babe, no idea of an outside world that could cause harm. All she knows is the sanctuary of your home.
You look at Azriel with tears in your eyes, feeling incredibly silly over being upset at stretch marks. But as if he can read your mind, he tells you, “you have constantly given me what I thought I’d never have. You loved me, you gave me a true home, you gave me a mate, and now?” He laughs, flexing his finger in her grasp. “You’ve expanded our family. You gorgeous thing, you.”
He kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “Your love knows no bounds, and I am eternally grateful for you.”
You start crying, post partem hormones taking control of you. “It’s so shallow,” you laugh as a tear falls, “I just was so upset over how weird my body feels. The pregnancy glow is gone so now I just feel heavy and weird in my own skin.”
He uses the hand not gripped by your baby to grab your chin and tilt it towards him. “I couldn’t look at my hands for a long time, after they had done it.”
Azriel always has a way of leaving you speechless, telling you another facet of himself he never had before.
“I could barely look at them before I met you. But you called them beautiful, this part of me I hated so much.” He looks into your eyes, the bond between you two humming in joy and adoration. “It’s okay if you don’t like how you look right now, I will find you beautiful enough for the both of us.”
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A Court of Frost and Starlight, chapter 22-24:
“You look beautiful tonight.” His words were low, rough. I stroked a hand down the lap of my gown, the fabric shimmering beneath my fingers. “You say that every night.” - “And mean it.” I blushed. “Cad.”
RHYS COMPLIMENTING FEYFEY AND FEYRE BLUSHIIIIING
“I know High Ladies are probably supposed to wear a new dress every day,”I mused, smiling at the gown, “but I’m rather attached to this one.”He ran his hand down my thigh. “I’m glad.” - “You never told me where you got it—where you got all my favorite dresses.”Rhys arched a dark brow. “You never figured it out?”I shook my head. For a moment, he said nothing, his head dipping to study the dress. “My mother made them.”I went still. Rhys smiled sadly at the shimmering gown. “She was a seamstress, back at the camp where she’d been raised. She didn’t just do the work because she was ordered to. She did it because she loved it. And when she mated my father, she continued.”I grazed a reverent hand down my sleeve. “I—I had no idea.”His eyes were star-bright. “Long ago, when I was still a boy, she made them—all your gowns. A trousseau for my future bride.”His throat bobbed. “Every piece …Every piece I have ever given you to wear, she made them. For you.
I love Rhys's mom. Never even met her but I do
He shrugged with one shoulder. “I thought you might be … disturbed to wear gowns made by a female who died centuries ago.” I put a hand over my heart. “I am honored, Rhys. Beyond words.” His mouth trembled a bit. “She would have loved you.” It was as great a gift as any I’d been given. I leaned down until our brows touched . "I would have loved her."
“It could take years,” he murmured. “I can be patient.” He lifted a brow at that, and I smiled, amending, “I can try to be patient.” His own answering smile set me grinning.
I LOVE THEM
“How shall it be, mate?”In his stare, I could have sworn galaxies swirled. In the shadows between his wings, the glorious depths of the night dwelled. “Hard enough to make the pictures fall off,”I reminded him, breathless. He laughed again, low and wicked. “Hold on tight, then.”
YESSSSS
I brushed my own mental hands down him and breathed, "Can you fuck me in here, too?" That wicked delight faltered. Went silent. The stars and darkness paused, too. Then undiluted, utter predator answered, "It would be my pleasure."
HEHEHHE
The painting shone before me: Night Triumphant— and the Stars Eternal.
“Rhys—it’s too much.”His face became deadly serious. “Not for you. Never for you.”He slid his arms around my waist, kissing my temple. “Build a house with a painting studio.”He kissed my other temple. “Build a house with an office for you, and one for me. Build a house with a bathtub big enough for two—and for wings.”Another kiss, this time to my cheek. “Build a house with rooms for all our family.”He kissed my other cheek. “Build a house with a garden for Elain, a training ring for the Illyrian babies, a library for Amren, and an enormous dressing room for Mor.”I choked on a laugh at that. But Rhys silenced it with a kiss to my mouth, lingering and sweet. “Build a house with a nursery, Feyre.”
I'M CRYING AND SCREAMING AND THROWING UP
Rhys POV
The sex had destroyed me. Utterly ruined me. Any lingering scrap of my soul that hadn’t already belonged to her had unconditionally surrendered last night.
Mor POV
And as Mor galloped over the snowy hills, her mare, Ellia, a solid, warm weight beneath her, she remembered why.
Eliia sounds like Elain. Morlain confirmed
There, between a snarl of thorns. A patch of darkness. It did not move, did not seem to do anything but linger. And watch. Familiar and yet foreign.
Seems like Bryaxis honestly
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#feyre archeron#feyre archeron supremacy#feyre cursebreaker#feyre darling#high lady feyre#feyre#feyre acotar#feyre supremacy#pro feyre#rhysand acotar#high lord rhysand#rhysand#rhys acotar#rhys x feyre#feyre x rhysand#feyreandrhysand#feysand#a court of frost and starlight#acofas#morrigan acotar#morrigan#mor acotar#mor#bryaxis acotar#bryaxis
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𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
┊ ➶ rhys x oc
┊ part three
part two
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
Each day turned into a bigger burden. Waking up was getting harder and harder as time went on, but today especially, Ariadne felt that the emotional and mental strength it had taken to get up and start that horrible day was getting so drained that it could very easily break at any moment.
Tara had no complaints to give her that morning, not a word, really, just sad, sympathetic smiles. In truth, that was much worse, even if Tara's intentions were good, to give her space.
The emptiness she carried constantly in her heart, today, spread throughout her body as she mindlessly went about her day doing everything more mechanically than humanly. It had been three years since her father was executed in front of her eyes when he had refused to rise from her mother's grave and return to work. His eyes, like hers right now, had been so empty that she had barely recognised her father in those last moments of his life. He had lost the love of his life. Her mother had died of terrible illness and neglect, and probably also of exhaustion and sadness. And her father, the man who had raised her to be a dreamer in a place of nightmares, had not wanted to live another day in a world without his beloved. So he abandoned it, confronted the guards who tried to drag him away and punished him by hanging his body, then burning his corpse.
Burned him, they had burned him, there was nothing left of him but faded memories and ashes long lost in the wind.
So Ariadne kept dreaming, day and night, she kept dreaming, because it was the only thing she could do to honour his memory, because if she didn't, she felt she would be failing him.
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of grief during the day, so hard to bear that at the end of the day she deliberately lingered longer by one of the huge windows of the East Wing, avoiding going back to the slave quarters for her food ration because she felt physically unable to eat anything without vomiting at the memory of the flames consuming her father's corpse.
So she sat there, on the edge of the window, staring at the stars and wishing. She closed her eyes and wished. She prayed to the Mother, prayed to the Cauldron to let her talk to her father, or at least for him to listen to her. Not knowing if it was of any worth, since the Mother and the Cauldron had long ago abandoned the humans and stoped hearing their prayers.
"I'm trying, I swear..." Her voice sounded raw and hoarse, as her eyes burned with anticipated tears.
"Sometimes, I'm afraid, trying isn't enough," that male voice stopped had startling her, though it still sent shivers down her spine and ruffled the hair on her arms.
She didn't bother to turn around, just opened her eyes and continued to stare at the sky.
"And would you know?"
"I think I would," then she stared at him, into his dark, beautiful eyes.
"Then what could possibly be enough?"
Rhysand stared at her, hands behind his back. He looked the same as she remembered from the last time they had seen each other, two months ago. It had been two months since Rhysand had laid out what she'd done, what she'd wanted to to do. He'd been away, in the Illyrian Camps, where he spent most of his time.
"You have to want it."
Ariadne snored and turned her head away from him again. How his eyes seemed to read her so easily; always disturbed her.
"And you think I don't want it?" She could no longer honestly say what she wanted, but that didn't make it any easier to agree with him.
"No, you don't."
"Stop using your daementi powers on me," she turned her head back to him, fury dancing in her eyes.
"I didn’t need to to know that you haven't really wanted to try for a long time."
That scared her, and a lot, more than his deadly power, his deadly presence, his deadly gaze, the fact that he always just knew.
"You don't know anything about me," she blurted out, feeling rather brave today, perhaps because she didn't really feel anything at all, apart from absolute rage and grief.
"No, I don't. But you don't know anything about me either."
"I know enough."
"Yeah, and what do you know, then?"
She considered her options: lie to him and find a way to escape right now, or tell him the unvarnished truth, and risk severe punishment for it.
She didn't feel that brave. Not yet. Nor could she ever feel that brave. So she lowered her head, responding in the only way she knew how: utterly silent.
Rhysand waited a long time for her answer, but once he realised it wouldn't come, Ariadne was surprised to hear that he simply sighed instead of using his daementi powers. For he could have easily used them in her unprotected, weak human mind, and yet he chose not to.
"Someday you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me," he sounded so sure of his words that she looked at him with furrowed brows.
"It's not about feeling comfortable," she admitted, and regretted it when he started to move closer.
"Then what is it about?"
Again she was speechless and had to swallow to keep from flinching under his scrutinising gaze.
"I could never be brave enough," she didn't regret telling the truth this time, when his eyes softened and he lowered his head for just a moment.
"You are brave, you just haven't found how to let it out yet."
"And you would teach me how to do that?" She raised an eyebrow, speaking with sardonic sarcasm, earning one of those sideways smiles of confidence from him.
"Yes, I think I'd like to teach you how to do it," she hadn’t said it seriously, but when she saw the truth of his words in his eyes, she was a little startled.
"Well, I doubt that's ever possible, considering you're always away," she tried to shrug it off, but of course Rhysand wasn't going to let it go that easily, and once again, he turned her words into his personal weapons to make her blush.
"Is that your way of telling me that you've missed me?" He raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously.
Her heart skipped a beat. Nervous, she began to feel nervous.
"Of course not," she snorted, rolling her eyes anywhere else but at him.
"Because I've missed you too, Ariadne," now, that didn't make her heart flinch, that made her heart do a complete 360 and catch in her throat. "Your insolence from time to time, I mean, there are very few people in this world who dare so much, and Cassian really doesn't have that intense hatred in his eyes to give me an extra challenge like you do," he laughed, shaking his head, as if thinking about the insolence of the aforementioned male, and her own insolence, was pure amusement to him.
"Who’s Cassian?" She dared to ask.
But Rhysand didn't react as she would have feared, instead, to her surprise, his eyes began to sparkle at the thought, a sparkle she had never seen before, not in his eyes, at least, but much like the one she saw the day she met Rhiannon. Joyful, appreciative.
"He's a friend, one I suspect you'd like very much, which is why I hope you never meet him, because I don't think I could carry you both around biting at my neck at every chance."
That caught her so off guard that she nearly laughed, she wanted to laugh, but quickly caught herself before she could get any further from her thoughts.
"You want to laugh," but of course, Rhysand saw it too.
"No, I don't."
Then he was the one to laugh. What was it about her that he always found so amusing? She didn't want to stick around to find out. So she jumped back down to the floor from the window seat and fixed her dress as best she could before bowing to the Prince.
"I'd better go, or I'm afraid I'll go hungry until tomorrow," she didn't wait for a reply before she started to walk away.
She was finally walking, no longer limping, her leg had healed since the last time she saw him, which was of great benefit to her as she could now walk away as quickly as possible.
"Goodnight, Ariadne," she didn't dare turn around or answer him, she just kept walking and walking until she could no longer feel his eyes on the back of her neck.
༺ ♡ ༻
"I'm tired of Illyrian males, I'm really done with them, I never want to see one again," Rhiannon complained, popping a candy into her mouth and chewing it with a frown as Ariadne washed the dishes.
The human burst out laughing, as she had started to do when Rhiannon started showing up in the kitchen every Wednesday and Sunday, the days she was on kitchen duty.
"Your brother is half Illyrian."
"Yes, exactly," that stole another smile.
Princess Rhiannon of the Night Court was probably the most versatile female she'd ever met, in the best sense of the word. She could be regal, imposing, princess-like, or she could be fearless, careless, carefree, or cheerful, fun-loving, playful. That was probably why she had found it so easy to win Ariadne over, though at first it had been mostly Rhiannon talking and Ariadne nodding nervously, gradually it started to become something more, something Ariadne felt comfortable to talk, laughing and sharing opinions.
"What's wrong with the Illyrians now?" She asked as she turned back to the pile of plates around her.
"Apart from everything? Well, everything! Azriel didn't even look at me," Rhiannon had recently paid a visit to the Illyrian camp where Rhysand and his friends lived, and the female, as she had shared with her, had always had a huge crush on one of her brother's best friends.
"Well, when was the last time you visited him?"
"Two years ago," it was hardly surprising, considering how much Rhiannon and her mother hated the Illyrian Camps. A horrible place for females, a horrible place in general, the princess had once told her.
"Well, then maybe he was just a little nervous, you've grown up a lot since then."
There was silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of Ariadne washing the dishes and an occasional sigh from Rhiannon.
"Maybe you could help me find out," the tone of the female voice sent a shiver down her spine and she slowly turned around. A devilish grin, which Ariadne had only seen on the female’s brother's face before, made her swallow and brace herself for whatever was about to come.
"And how... how would I do that?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"You'll come with me, not to the Illyrian Camps, of course. I could never take you to such a horrible place. But to Velaris. Oh, yes, you'll love it! The Winter Solstice is coming and Rhys is going to take Cassian and Azriel with him, why couldn't I take you with me?" In her beautiful dreamy eyes shone a glint that made Ariadne's heart begin to race with anxiety.
"They're Illyrians, at least. Fae. I'm human," she said as the most obvious argument as to why she couldn't go to whatever place Rhiannon was talking about.
"Nonsense, I'll tell mum I want you as my servant there," she knew Rhiannon didn't really mean to take her as such, but still, it wasn't like she was a real servant after all.
"But I'm not a servant, I'm a slave," she didn't mean to sound so harsh, but there was no gentle way to pronounce that word.
A flash of disgust at the word passed over the princess's face, and Ariadne wondered at that moment what Rhiannon thought of her position. She had not yet found the courage to ask her.
"I'll take care of everything, okay? Just trust me."
Trust. That was such a difficult concept for humans, she hadn't trusted anyone in her life besides her parents, even Tara, the only friend she considered having. But Rhiannon's pleading look made her reevaluate everything she'd thought before, and after giving it a very, very long time, she finally relented with a sigh.
"Alright, fine. If that helps you with Azriel."
Rhiannon's smile grew wider and her eyes sparkled with startle as she rose from the table and walked over to her to pull her into an embrace. Ariadne's soapy hands dared not touch her perfect, expensive dress.
"You won't regret it, I promise. You'll love Velaris. You'll never want to leave."
As she hugged the princess, allowing herself to be overcome by her happiness and excitement, she thought that, perhaps, she didn't just have one friend in this world.
#legend of a mortal love#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar oc#acomaf#acosf#acowar#night court#rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand sister#rhysand acotar#rhysand x reader#rhysand x oc#ariadne x rhys#ariadne oc#rhiannon
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The Moment You Knew
I have this little idea in the back of my head and I’m hoping this comes out the right way. I meant it angsty but it came out kinda fluffy.
Trigger Warnings: Kinda depression-like symptoms but that's about it
Eris Vanserra x reader
~~~
There was a feeling one got when everything went right in their life. When everything was perfect. The weather was just right, and the company was liked.
Y/N couldn’t claim to ever have felt it.
As the younger sister to the current High Lord of the Night Court, Rhys, all you ever felt was pressure. Rhys himself never pressured you to do anything, he loved you unconditionally as an older brother should.
It was more of an eternal pressure. You had to be perfect for the public. You couldn’t let your family down. You had to make every decision, every act, perfect.
The smile never left your face and your father's voice never left your head, always claiming that you weren’t good enough. Always reminding you that everyone had been happier when it was just Rhys. For the most part, you had gotten good at ignoring it. After all, the male had been dead for years, there was no point in listening to his foolishness.
But once in a while, you let it hit you. Let the shame and the darkness take over as you were now.
No one ever seemed to know the difference anyway. Whether you were happy or pretending, no one ever cared enough to notice the difference.
You looked out at the night sky, it was Starfall, your absolute favorite day of the year.
The simplistic beauty of it was perfect, and you had always spent the night the same way. A few hours of celebrating with your family before you disappeared onto a balcony to enjoy the silence.
Very little had ever changed the routine. When your brother had been Under the Mountain you had stood on the balcony, alone, ignoring your family altogether. When he’d come back with Feyre you rejoined your family and left again. When Nyx was born you’d taken your nephew out for a minute, basking in the cold night air with him in your arms.
This year was no different. Your family had all gathered at the House of Wind, same as always. The only different thing was who they’d brought. Eris Vanserra had seemed astoundingly uncomfortable when he was dropped from Azriel’s arms.
He’d looked around at the room in shock, taking in the finery everyone wore. Mor in her customary red, the bat brothers wearing suits the darkest black they could find. Feyre in a sleeveless flowing blue dress, Nesta in a gray high-necked dress. Elain in some sort of bright floral thing.
Everyone had leaned into their stereotypes almost a little too much. Eventually, his eyes fell on you. The fabric that clung to your figure was burgundy, gold vines crawled down your arms and accentuated your waist. Your dark hair fell in soft curls around your shoulders and the hazel eyes you had inherited from your mother shone.
He thought you were stunning.
Throughout the night you felt his eyes on you. It was when he looked away for a fraction of a second that you slipped off onto what had become your balcony.
He turned from the bar, two drinks resting in his hands. His amber eyes scoured the room for you. But you were gone. Eris looked at your family, they were all laughing and chatting. None of them even noticed you were gone, or perhaps they had just gotten used to your frequent disappearances.
He walked around the edges of the room, opening the doors he came across. Several doors later he came to the frosted glass one you were behind.
The door opened smoothly, as though it saw frequent use. He nearly left when he saw you, you looked so at peace. A gentle smile graced your face as you stared up at the sky. Illyrian wings had sprouted from your scarred back, not so much as disturbing the low-hanging material of your dress. He had thought you beautiful before, and now he didn’t know what to think.
He backed away from the door and you looked over. Eris froze for a moment and you watched as he took timid steps towards you. There had never been much communication between the two of you, and he didn’t know how you would react to his presence.
You simply turned back to the sky, accepting the drink he held out.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” You whispered looking up at the thousands of glimmering stars in the sky.
“Absolutely,” Eris muttered, looking at a completely different view.
The two of you leaned against the edge of the balcony in comfortable silence. It was the most at peace either of you had felt all night. Eris ran a pale hand through his hair, disturbing the red locks.
He truly was a handsome male. A suit nearly the same color as your dress showed off his leanly muscled arms and defined torso.
He looked so very different from the males you were used to. Eris was slimmer, and his eyes hadn’t learned to properly hide their haunted look. But still, he was a beauty.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. The first white streak fell from the sky. It started off slow, as it normally did, but soon there were too many of them to count. All plummeting through the air.
You heard Eris gasp next to you, and felt his gentle hand grasp your arm.
“It’s incredible,” he said, his voice barely audible.
As the spirits continued to fall you both continued to watch them. Eventually, the hand that rested on your arm went to an arm across your shoulders. Eris pulled your back against his chest, careful to mind the wings you had pulled in tight.
It was comfortable, being in his arms. His entire being oozed warmth and comfort.
When the last spirit crossed the sky you turned to look at Eris, almost startled at how close he was. Tears lined his eyes. He turned toward you and suddenly you knew.
Your brother had always described his mating bond as snapping. That wasn’t how it worked for you. You looked into those amber eyes and felt every worry melt away. You just knew.
It was like the bond pieced itself together, each golden strand weaving as you stood there.
Eris leaned down and pressed his lips to yours and you tugged on that new bond.
There was no ‘I love you’, he didn’t immediately claim you as his. There was simply the acceptance and the joy that came from finding one another. The knowledge that one day you would build that relationship, and that you would always have Eris. No matter what.
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Eris Vanserra x Azriel Shadowsinger
Spanking — KTober
Word Count: 1.4k
Includes: Spanking, Jealous Sex, Rough Sex, Anal, Anal Fingering, Overstimulation, Creampie, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Size kink.
On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50942734
On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1391100824-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠-𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐬-𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚-𝐱-𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥
Eris’ hand lies on Thesan’s toned muscles, Eris’ tiny hand squeezing the flesh there. Thesan doesn’t seem to mind the fellow High Lords actions as he continues to speak with one of his guards.
The Inner Circle decided to bring Eris with them to the Dawn Court to strength the alliance between Courts—Tarquin was suppose to be here as well, the Summer, Dawn, Night, and Autumn’s bonds needed strengthened.
Rhysand and Cassian could smell the rage seeping off of Azriel, the jealous, lustful rage.
“Az.” Cassian calls out, the Shadowsingers eyes snap to the Illyrian General.
“What.” He snaps.
“Calm down.” Rhys chimes in, his hand gently resting on Azriel’s arm.
“We can smell the scent, it’s… disturbing.” Cassian smirks, Azriel only scoffs at his brothers words before his yellow eyes drift back to Thesan and his mate.
“And that is how my healing magic works, Eris.” Thesan states with a smile, the guard from before has long disappeared.
“That’s amazing, Thesan. My courts healing magic is much different.” Eris smirks, his hand creeps down Thesan’s arm and to his hand, intertwining their fingers.
Azriel growls at the sight, he stands from the table—the chair he was once in flying onto it’s back.
Eris doesn’t seem to mind, Thesan only glances up before meeting the Autumn Court’s High Lord again.
“Your court has healing magic?” Thesan questions, his eyebrow lifting.
“Partially, in the Autumn Court most of the healers know fire magic that can turn so thin it’s like thread—they use it to close wounds, the burning closes them in the process.” Eris explains, Azriel begins to approach the two High Lords.
“Burning? Does it hurt?” Thesan asks.
Eris nods. “Only a bit, I could give an example if you would like?”
Thesan nods in return, curious how the Autumn Court’s magic can be used in a healing light.
Eris moves his hand up Thesan’s arms, now on his forearm. His fire magic summons in thin ropes—like thread it wraps around the Dawn Court’s High Lord arm.
“Oh! Wow!” Thesan looks in complete awe as he uses the fire. “You’re right… it only stings a bit.”
Eris chuckles and nods. “Told you.” He smiles.
“You’re very… likable, Eris.” Thesan chuckles.
Eris halts for a moment. “As are you.”
That was Azriel’s last straw.
“Eris.” The spymaster snaps then looks to Thesan. “High Lord.” Azriel states, his tone still stern.
“Spymaster…” Thesan speaks slowly. “What is the issue?”
“Nothing.” He grabs Eris’ wrist and then drags him away from the Dawn Court’s High Lord.
Eris finally realizes the scent emitting from Azriel, the mix of rage and lust overwhelming his senses. Azriel drags him to his room before tossing the High Lord over his shoulder.
“Fucking, Thesan?” Azriel growls before throwing Eris on the bed, he crawls on top of him afterward. Azriel’s thighs pinning Eris to the bed, his bulge pressing against Eris’ ass as he lies on his stomach.
“I was talking with him.” Eris scoffs.
“Talking? Talking? You were flirting!”
Eris goes to speak again when a heavy hand meets his ass, causing a loud ‘smack’ to echo in the room.
“A-Azriel!” Eris shouts in surprise.
“Shut it.” He snaps. “Fucking flirting… this is the second time! First Tarquin…” Azriel hand connects with Eris’ ass again, a brutal, bruising smack. “Now Thesan?”
“I… wasn’t-“ Another harsh smack.
Azriel rolls his eyes, his shadows wrap around Eris’ wrist, yanking them across the bed, his ass now up in the air.
“Yes you were.” He growls. “Holding onto his bicep… showing him tricks that I taught you… holding his hand?” Azriel smacks Eris’ other ass cheek, his right red and bruised by the force.
“O-Okay!” Eris whimpers. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry what?”
Eris hesitates, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I’m sorry daddy…” He corrects.
Azriel smirks at the nickname, his cock throbbing in his pants. But, he can’t give in just yet, Eris has been… bratty.
“Prove it, little fox.”
Eris whimpers. “Can’t…” He motions to the shadows binding his wrists above his head.
“What a shame, Eris…” Azriel smirks before smacking his ass again. Eris whines.
“Daddy! Please, I can’t… it hurts so bad… make me feel good! Please!” The High Lord begs.
His eyes darken, eyes narrowing before he moves his head to the back of Eris’ neck. Azriel bites down, sucking a deep, love bite. Eris can feel the spymaster’s breath coast along his ear, his shoulder, his neck. It sends a chill down Eris’ spine.
Azriel grabs Eris’ ass. “No one is allowed to touch you here…” His scarred hands move to his leaking cock. “Here…” Azriel grabs Eris’ hands. “Or here, little fox.” He growls, a dominant tone in his voice.
Eris whimpers.
“I am a possessive man, Eris.” Azriel then shucks off Eris’ pants—tossing them somewhere behind them in the room. “And you are mine, all to myself, my little mate.” Azriel makes sure Eris knows who he belongs to, Eris grips his hips before leaning forward.
Azriel moves his index and middle fingers to Eris’ mouth, Eris complies and opens his mouth. He covers the fingers with saliva before Azriel retracts his hand before circling Eris’ rear, he soon shoves them up Eris’ tight arse.
“D-Daddy!” Eris moans.
Azriel smirks and begins to thrust his fingers in and out of the Autumn Court’s High Lord, fucking him with his hand at a relentless pace.
“I am going to destroy you, little fox. Mark and claim you with my lips, my marks, my cum.”
“Oh… fuck! Please, daddy!”
“When I saw you touching him… Thesan… Tarquin, those High Lord bastards…” Azriel begins to scissor Eris’ hole. “I wanted to take you in front of them, make them see the expression you make when I force you to cum on my cock.”
“Daddy… I-I would like that…” Eris whimpers as he continues to thrust his fingers.
“Would you now?” Azriel smacks his ass again, leaving a stinging feeling on Eris’ pale cheeks. “I could make that a reality, I’m sure they would like to see it…” Azriel bites on his neck again before kissing his spine. “But, I’m afraid you are mine, not theirs.” Azriel growls, emphasizing the word ‘mine’.
“Yes! Yours, only yours, daddy!” The ginger moans. “I need y-your cock!” He pleas.
Azriel finally complies, withdrawing his fingers before he slams his entire member into Eris’ rear. The smaller moans, practically screaming from the mix of pain and pleasure.
“My beautiful little mate…” Azriel hums, pumping his cock into the High Lord. “You’re so pretty from this side.” He grips Eris’ ass. “I love your ass, Eris.”
“Want to… see you.” Eris whines, his own cock leaking onto the bed.
“Do you?”
“Please, daddy!” He begs.
Azriel slides out, flipping Eris over before instantly sliding back in.
“Oh! Fuck!” Eris moans loudly, his legs locking around Azriel’s waist as the taller man continues to pound into him.
“Do you think I can make you cum without touching your cock, little fox?”
“Y-Yes!”
Azriel hums, his gaze dark and filled with lust as he continues to roughly pound into his mate. All the pent up anger from earlier completely disappeared into a need to claim.
“I think so too.”
The Illyrian picks up his speed, fucking into Eris as fast as he possibly could, hitting his prostate with every single thrust. Eris feels the building sensation build in his lower stomach, moaning through the pleasureful experience.
Soon, Azriel’s thrusts begin to be less strong, more lazy… he was close.
“Cum with me.” Azriel demands.
“Daddy!” Eris shouts as his cum shoots from his painfully hard cock, Azriel shoots his load deep inside of Eris’ arse, giving it one more spank before sliding out.
“My sweet, little fox, you did so well.” Azriel pecks Eris’ forehead before sliding under him. Eris now lying on his chest, his wings spread out before wrapping around Eris. “However…”
Eris looks up at this.
“If you ever fucking flirt with Tarquin or Thesan again…” Azriel’s hands move to cup Eris’ ass, squeezing it firmly. “I will tie you here, on our bed, with my shadows and edge you for hours, days even.”
“Sounds fun…” Eris chuckles, kisses Azriel’s chest as he comes down from his high.
“Does it?”
“Perhaps we could invite them as you said earlier.”
“Don’t start.” Azriel growls.
Eris chuckles and then kisses Azriel’s cheek. “I’m only joking, Az. I wouldn’t dare replace…” He grabs Azriel’s still hard cock. “This for anything.”
Azriel flips them again. “Good.” Is all he states before starting another round.
#azris fanart#azris fanfiction#azris#azris supremacy#azris x reader#azriel x eris#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#eris x reader#erisweek2023#high lord eris#eris my beloved#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris acotar#a court of mist and fury#acosf#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#acofas#acotar#acomaf#acowar#kinktober 2023#kinktober
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A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 16)
Summary: Evelyn navigates the Court of Nightmares and accepts a date... though not with who you'd expect.
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: angst, cussing
Notes: friends, romans, countrymen... lend me your ears. this chapter has taken a long time and i more than appreciate your patience as i sort through life. i hope you enjoy and i'm hoping now that life has calmed down a bit i will be back on a more regular writing & posting schedule!
P.S. - in this chapter more than others, some dialogue is taken directly from ACOWAR. this is just my attempt to follow along with canon, no disrespect to my queen sjm.
Next Chapter: Chapter Seventeen
ACOPAP Masterlist
---
The Court of Nightmares was unlike any place I’d been before.
Thankful that I didn’t have to walk entirely through the crowd like the others, I found myself at Nesta’s side near the dais with the throne. I felt more than saw Mor reappear to my left moments later, though I was unsure what she had done in the meantime. From the little I had gleaned, her family resided here. Perhaps she had something to say to them before Rhysand’s address.
The black ends of my dress skirted the floor as I walked, giving me something to focus on other than the sneers on the faces surrounding us. Never had I been in a room so full of hostility. I could tell by the lines on the faces of the fae that they must make these faces often and I found myself regretting asking Rhysand to let me accompany them.
Despite the anger permeating the room, I kept my chin high, letting my eyes trace the disturbing images carved into the mountain walls. I found myself instinctively searching for the comforting glow of the moon and cringing when I realized I couldn’t see it from here. Something about that felt even more stifling than the confines of the tight dress I was wearing. To know that the night sky was out there and I was detached from it… I fought the shiver that worked its way down my spine.
My fingers twitched with the urge to grab Nesta’s hand but I schooled my expression and balled my hand into a fist. I could do this.
I chanced a glance beside me, hoping that at least my sister’s presence would calm some of the nerves dancing through my tight chest.
To my surprise, a large winged figure separated me from the curl of braids decorating Nesta’s crown.
Azriel must have taken the spot between us, his Illyrian armor decorating his tanned skin and shadows drawn in tight as he stared straight ahead to where Rhysand and Feyre would sit.
I mentally smacked myself, of course, he would take Rhysand’s command to be my babysitter seriously.
The shock of seeing him standing next to me wore off as I tightened my features and remembered Mor’s parting words. Make him beg.
That, I could do.
Refocusing on Feyre and Rhys as they approached the throne, I bit back a smile as Rhys yielded it to Feyre and perched on the arm. The distaste that had flooded the air quickly turned to shock and disgust at the action. Evidently, the people of the Hewn City were not well-acquainted with their High Lady.
Rhys’s voice barked out a single word that broke the spell, “Bow.”
I watched as the entire room fell to their knees, admiring the way Rhysand commanded so completely. Beside me, Azriel and Mor elegantly swept into bows, Mor barely hiding a gleeful smile. I did the same, dropping to one knee for my sister and her mate. I made sure to sweep my hand along my leg as I did so, however, parting one of the panels of fabric so the entire length of my leg was exposed conveniently in view of a certain Illyrian.
I saw the movement of his gaze out of the corner of my eye, the way it lingered and tracked the exposed skin. He didn’t even blink before bowing his head again.
My eyebrows scrunched subtly at his stoicism. I’d have to do more to get a rise out of the male who hadn’t let himself have a single emotion other than brooding in centuries.
Rhysand spoke to the room, admonishing them for the lack of two thrones, and the small grin returned to my face. Then he finished with, “Our loyal subjects” and I felt the sting of tears. Rhysand wanted two thrones because Feyre was his equal. This was their court. And I was proud to be part of it.
I felt something in the air and, though I wasn’t quite certain what it was, my instincts were going haywire with the thought it was a threat. The gleam in Feyre’s eye, however, told me it had to have been fae testing her power, something I knew she was more than capable of handling. Gasps rang out as a triumphant smirk crossed her face.
I almost wished it was tangible so I could make sense of what was going on, but this served as a stark reminder of how little I knew of this life, of being Fae.
Who knew how much time I would have before this war? Who knew how much time it would even take for me to understand these powers that I now possessed?
The flying was the easy part, physical pain and hard work were something I was not unfamiliar with. I could train my body, I could push myself past any limits I had to.
Learning to control my emotions and whatever that Cauldron had flooded my veins with… That was something I wasn’t sure I could handle.
I wanted to, though. I wanted to be a weapon they could use in this war, rather than a liability on the sidelines. Perhaps I wouldn’t even need to learn how to use my power if I could just train with Cassian every day and become proficient with a sword.
Or… The Illyrian camps Rhys had mentioned. Azriel had so adamantly refused to allow me to go there but… I wasn’t listening to him anymore. He had no right to prevent me from doing anything.
I made a mental note to ask either Rhysand or Cassian about potentially training there after we returned to the townhouse.
Amren and Nesta rising broke me out of my thoughts. They walked to the foot of the dais, asking Rhysand for leave, which he granted. He waved a hand as he commanded, "Go. Enjoy yourselves. Food and music. Now."
The music was nearly haunting, matching the dark energy of the city. It was a relief, however, to hear music at all. It somehow made the occupants of this hidden city a bit more relatable. To know that their lives were not consistently shrouded in darkness and melancholy, but that they might find joy in the same things we did above.
I frowned at the idea that Nesta would miss it as she left to fulfill her part of this trip. I knew how she loved dancing and, though I doubted she would let herself be swept away through the night, she could afford to hear a song or two.
Mor grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd and to a long table of food and drink. She picked up two glasses of wine, handing one to me before downing her own and offering me a wide grin.
I took a long drink, feeling the dizzying effects of the fae wine immediately. I wondered if I should seek water to offset them but that thought was gone as quickly as it came. One glass of wine wouldn’t hurt and, considering where I currently was, it might even help.
Mor popped one of the snacks in her mouth and turned toward me. “The only thing bearable about these visits is the food and wine they leave out.”
I snorted out a laugh. “I can’t imagine anything being worth the trip down here.”
She opened her mouth to answer but her eyes locked onto something behind me and she quickly closed her lips. I raised an eyebrow in question but she shot me a wink and mouthed the word “beg” before dancing out to the crowd.
I took another swig of my wine, letting the warmth course through my body as I refused to turn around and acknowledge the male behind me.
“Evelyn,” he said in greeting, no inflection to give away what he was feeling or thinking.
I drained the remnants of my glass before grabbing another and finally turning to face him. “Oh, Azriel. I didn’t see you there. Quite the spy you are.”
A flash of something crossed his face so fast I couldn’t quite read it. “Very funny, princess.”
My heart twisted in my chest at the nickname and the memories it summoned. Funny how one interaction could go from infuriating to endearing to heartbreaking all in a matter of days.
I turned back around, setting the full glass of wine back on the table and briskly walking into the crowd of dancing bodies. I ignored Azriel calling my name, focusing instead on making it to the far side of the room.
Nobody moved to speak to me, which was just fine, as all I wanted to do was sink into the shadows and stay there until it was time to leave. Thankfully, the entire room was framed by a long line of columns, big enough that I could slip behind one and sink to the floor. I sighed as I sat, stretching my legs out in front of me before crossing them at the ankles.
As my mind grew foggier, I cursed myself for setting back down that second cup of wine, wishing I could follow it further into oblivion. Of course, that also meant I’d be drunk and likely more depressed than I already was.
I huffed out a breath as I leaned my head back against the column, giggling slightly as the loose strands of my hair tickled my collarbones. I knew I’d have to attend the meeting with the others soon but I couldn’t find it in myself to get up.
I felt him a second before he appeared, almost like my body was more in tune with him than it was with me at this point. I groaned as he stepped out of the shadows.
“Can’t you just leave me alone?”
His face didn’t betray anything, again, as he offered a hand to me. “Time for the meeting.”
I ignored his hand, pushing myself off the floor and dusting off my dress.
“Lead the way, shadowsinger.”
He did as I asked, pushing his way through the crowd until we reached a small hallway. He pushed open a door, where Rhys sat at the head of an intricate table. Feyre was opposite him, Mor and a male Fae, who must have been Keir, filling in other seats.
Azriel took a seat, leaving the only empty ones next to him or Keir. I grimaced, figuring I should choose the lesser of two evils.
With a heavy breath, I sat as gracefully as I could next to Azriel, averting my eyes from Mor’s father.
With a sneer, the male said, “I know why you’re here.”
I fought to keep the gag from my throat at the sound of his voice. Even though I had never met him, his very presence sent goosebumps up my arms and made me want to leave the room as quickly as I could. I couldn’t keep the distaste off my face at his lack of decorum and the way he surveyed all of us.
Keir went on, mentioning Hybern and Rhysand’s legions, with a nasty look shot at Azriel. It took all of my self-control not to launch myself across the table. Despite the hurt and hatred I felt toward him, I detested the way he seemed to reduce Azriel down to what was the smallest part of such an intelligent, complicated fae. Before I could move, he got to the point, “You mean to ask for my Darkbringers to join your army.”
Rhys, ever the statesman, simply replied, "Well at least you've spared me the effort of dancing around the subject.”
I picked up the glass of water that had at some point appeared in front of me to keep myself from smiling. Rhys and Keir continue to volley, a game of words that could be understood if you looked past the flowery language with the context of our dire situation. Until Mor cut in, "Last I checked you have been free to do as you wish for centuries. Longer."
I saw Azriel tense as Keir ignored Mor, saying that he wasn’t quite free enough to do all that he wanted. Rhys shut him down, putting him in his place, and reminding him who was truly in charge of both courts.
Keir smiled. Every muscle in my body tensed at the sight. It seemed so unnatural on a face like his, one riddled with lines of tension that must have come from whatever hatred filled his heart and mind. It was nothing like the smiles I had grown accustomed to from the other fae in Prythian.
Cassian’s smile of joy and laughter, despite whatever circumstance we found ourselves in. Rhysand’s smile of love that he shot in Feyre’s direction when he thought she wasn’t looking. Even Amren, who still scared me, had a smile of mischief when she toyed with the jewels she carried everywhere with her. Even the smiles I knew the most, ones I coveted above all else, the ones of my sisters. Those were much less frequent these days.
Azriel’s smiles though… I had practically memorized the intricacies of each one. I peered at him from the corner of my vision, wishing his handsome face would lighten with one such smile now. They filled the room, not exactly washing away the shadows but enhancing them, bringing a delicious contrast to his entire being.
But when Keir smiled… it felt wrong. He glanced around with that look, “You must need my army rather desperately, Rhysand. Are the overgrown bats not up to snuff anymore?”
My lips parted in shock at his arrogance.
Azriel, seemingly unphased, answered, “Come train with them and you’ll learn for yourself.”
That was the shadowsinger of the Night Court. The spymaster that kept his enemies on their knees, afraid of even breathing the wrong way for fear of what he may do.
The game between Rhysand and Keir began again in earnest, Rhys using those powers of his to gouge lines in the glass table. I winced at the sound but continued to do my best to follow along with the word games.
Rhysand’s eyes had a strange light as he sat back and said, “Bring him in.”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing between my High Lord and the empty seat at the table. I hadn’t realized that we were missing someone in this conversation, particularly as I was just here so my babysitter could keep an eye on me.
A male figure walked in. One that I vaguely recognized…
I stiffened in realization. He had been there that day on the ice. He had been the one holding my sister by her hair.
Mor froze as well, as though she knew this male too, though how I wasn’t sure.
Beside me, Azriel’s hand moved to his dagger and my expression furrowed further. We had released this male that day on the ice, what brought him here now and why was Azriel seemingly preparing to gut him in front of all of us?
Feyre didn’t seem surprised, though I could have sworn I saw her eyebrows raise a bit as the red-haired male walked in and sat in the remaining chair.
Everyone’s eyes seemed trained on the Autumn Court fae, whose features reminded me of a fox, with eyes that were filled with cunning and a long, pointed nose decorating the center of his face.
Eris. His name was Eris.
I felt the whisper of Azriel’s shadows surrounding me, as though they were trying to hide me from him. I gently waved them off, not liking the way it felt like Azriel was trying to stake a claim or something.
Eris sat exactly across from me and I used the silence to focus on studying him. His eyes burned with a fire that was the complete opposite of the one we had seen in Nesta. It was warm, with a hint of danger, reminiscent of a campfire that had the potential to catch an entire forest on fire if left unattended. Exciting and untethered, the fatality depending on whoever wielded it.
As if he felt my staring, his eyes locked with mine. A smile graced his handsome face and he commented, "And who is this, Rhysand? You had mentioned building ties but I’d take a beautiful female in your court over that cranky bastard any day.”
I blushed, using a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear simply so I had something to do other than meet his piercing gaze.
I knew that I shouldn’t have felt flattered, especially with how Mor had reacted to his presence, but to feel so unabashedly admired felt… nice, compared to the way Azriel had been treating me like a dirty little secret. He had also hurt my sister, though, which was not something I would easily forgive or forget.
Azriel practically growled at him and I shot him an incredulous look.
The male’s smile grew wider, “And if she’s gotten such a rise out of your shadowsinger I simply must get to know her better. What is your name, little fox?”
I nearly laughed at the way his nickname fit so perfectly with the way I had evaluated him. “I’m Evelyn,” I said, “Feyre’s older sister.”
As if some invisible wall had been shattered, he looked at me with new intrigue in his eyes. Something about it caused my gut to twist uncomfortably, the flattery from earlier gone.
Rhys cut in, “What is it that you want, then, Keir?”
I shook my head, hoping the physical act would be enough to extinguish whatever was happening with Eris.
"I want out. I want to space. I want my people to be free of this mountain. You have been keeping secrets, High Lord. I always wondered – where all of you went when you weren't here. Hybern answered the question at last – thanks to that attack on… what is its name? Velaris. Yes. On Velaris. The City of Starlight. I want access to the city. For me, and my court,” Keir answered.
Silence filled the room at his request.
“No,” Mor breathed.
The word meant more than I knew. I wasn't sure what the story was or why she hated this place so much, but even the thought of these people in Velaris made my skin crawl. It felt wrong in the same way Keir’s smile had felt wrong.
I waited for Rhys to agree with Mor and for Azriel to echo the sentiment as well. But the protests didn’t come. Instead, Rhysand simply stated, “There would be conditions.”
My mouth fell open in surprise, my heart cracking inexplicably in my chest. Rhysand was clearly playing a game but I couldn’t tell what it was. Mor also seemed to be on the outside, which was enough to tell me that Rhysand had truly overstepped.
Across the table, Eris chuckled softly. Azriel’s look at him was murderous, a rage lacing it that seemed to go beyond just this meeting. Eris tilted his head at the Illyrian, seemingly an invitation to speak up.
I studied him, trying to figure out his angle in all of this. Once again his eyes found mine but this time, he sent me a wink. My traitorous body blushed again, forcing me to focus my gaze on my lap.
Azriel stood abruptly, stopping any conversation and turning all eyes toward him.
With one hand on his dagger and the other resting on the table, he stared down Eris, a cold calculation playing in his gaze. He was weighing his options, though I don’t think it was for the consequences of his actions. More like he was debating in his head which of the many ways to torture someone he wanted to utilize. As a smirk slowly grew on his face, I became more convinced that he was actually going to do something that he couldn’t take back.
Rhysand cleared his throat. Azriel didn’t so much as look at him as he sat back down.
The whole time, Eris’s amusement didn’t fade. If anything, his smugness grew at seeing Azriel submit to Rhys.
“If Keir is receiving access to Velaris, I’d like to add something onto my end of the deal,” Eris spoke calmly.
Rhysand raised a brow, clearly annoyed. “What, Eris?”
“I’d like access to this lovely creature,” he said, running his eyes over me.
I shivered but I couldn’t tell if it was in excitement or disgust.
“Absolutely not,” Azriel answered.
“You can’t tell me you’re hoarding the Archeron sisters for yourself, Rhysand.”
Feyre looked at me with concern in her eyes but I felt Rhysand gently pushing for access to my mind. I focused my attention on him, letting him in.
Well? He asked me.
Well, what?
It’s your choice, Evelyn.
I wasn’t aware I was a bargaining chip, brother.
If I had known you were on the table, you would have been my leading bet.
I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head a bit. How badly do we need him?
Badly enough that I’m offering our most precious possession to a depraved creature such as Keir.
I nodded in understanding before making eye contact with Eris.
“One evening. That’s your deal.”
“As you wish, little fox. Though I have a feeling you’ll be asking for many more after that,” he smirked.
With those words, my opinion of him was solidified. They were a perverse version of the words Azriel had uttered to me days ago after I had all but begged him to kiss me. When Eris said them… it was possessive. It was demeaning. And I never wanted to hear them from him again.
I didn’t bother with a reply, knowing I had fulfilled what Rhys needed from me.
From there, Rhysand agreed to Keir’s terms, details of the access to Velaris to be decided later.
Feyre asked Ouroboros mirror and Keir surprised me by biting out, “If you can take it.”
We all gave him a puzzled look and, exasperated, he elaborated, “To take the Ouroboros, to claim it, you must first look into it. And everyone who has attempted to do so has either gone mad or been broken beyond repair. Even a High Lord or two, if legend is true. So it is yours, if you dare to face it.” A fae came in and said something to him, causing him to rise from his seat. “Lord Thanatos is having… Difficulties with his daughter again. He requires my assistance. I will wish to speak with you – soon.” And with that, he left the room.
Eris sipped his wine in the silence that followed Keir’s departure. “You look well, Mor.”
I was on my feet before he finished, pointing a finger in his direction as I growled, “You don’t speak to her.”
Even if I was unsure what their history was, I could tell he made her uncomfortable, which was more than enough for me to defend my friend.
Before Eris could respond, Rhysand was by my side with a hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me back into my seat. “This arrangement, Eris, relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut.”
“You say that Rhysand, but it now also relies upon my evening with the fair Archeron,” he said while meeting my eyes. “I’ve done an excellent job staying quiet so far. Not even my father suspected when I left tonight.”
A rumble left the center of Azriel’s chest, loud enough to shake the table and send shadows scattering across the floor. I didn’t even bother looking at him. If I did, I wasn’t sure if I would end up attacking him or start crying.
“I see you’re still holding a grudge,” Eris said to Azriel. I cocked my head but didn’t ask my question out loud. Grudge for what?
Feyre asked, “How did this come about?”
“You didn’t think that I knew your shadowsinger would come sniffing around to see if I’d told my father about your… powers?” Eris snorted. “Especially after my brothers so mysteriously forgot about them, too. I knew it was a matter of time before one of you arrived to take care of my memory as well. Too bad for you, I learned a thing or two about daemati. Too bad for my brothers that I never bothered to teach them.”
I gaped at him. Yeah, definitely didn’t like this male. Sacrificing his brothers for his own gain? This “date” was shaping up to be one of the worst things I’d ever agreed to.
Mor arched one of her perfect brows, but I didn’t miss the way her fingers dug into her arms where they were crossed in front of her. “So what’s the asking price, Eris? Another little bride for you to torture?”
Eris said, with a glance in my direction, “I wasn’t aware it was within my power to ask for that, though I’d happily agree.”
“Not even over my dead body,” the spymaster’s voice rang out.
“That could easily be arranged.”
I felt my power flare at his words, rimming my vision in white as he threatened Azriel.
This time, I was tempted to let Azriel have his way with the prick. I hoped he’d pick the most painful way to torture him though.
Then Mor repeated her question and Eris offered a genuine answer, “I don’t know who fed you those lies to begin with, Morrigan. Likely the bastards you surround yourself with.”
“You never gave any evidence to contrary. Certainly not when you left me in those woods,” Mor said to him.
I looked at Feyre, doing my best to ask the question with my eyes. What the hell happened between the two of them?
She shook her head subtly in answer, letting me know Mor was the only person I’d get that story from.
“There were forces at work that you have never considered,” Eris snapped. “And I’m not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me.”
My eyes widened at his tone. Clearly, no one here had the full story. Maybe this “date” could be beneficial after all.
Feyre’s stern voice surprised me as she said, “You hunted me down like an animal. I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”
The reminder of that day sent my mind spiraling with images of Feyre being held by the very male before me. The male I was meant to spend time with.
I stood, dragging the attention to me, as I murmured, “I need another glass of wine.”
I moved to leave the room but a strong hand gripped my arm. I looked up and Azriel’s hard face filled my vision.
Right. Babysitting duty.
He seemed inclined to either leave with me or force me to stay.
“You know where to find me,” I whispered, knowing it was important for him to continue this meeting. I tried to convey with my eyes that I’d be where he found me before, behind the larger pillar, hiding from conversation and the world around me.
He nodded once before releasing my arm.
I snuck out of the room, gently closing the door behind me and letting out a breath.
That meeting was… a lot.
I moved through the crowd, avoiding the bodies of the unfamiliar fae that were twisting in time to the music. I accepted a wine glass from someone who offered, residing myself to the fact that all of this was better processed under the influence of something.
The walk to the large marble column was blissfully uneventful, allowing me to attempt to clear my mind.
I slumped down on the floor much less elegantly than I had the first time, cross-legged and likely slouching. I pulled my hair from the elaborate up-do Mor had styled it in, gently working out some of the jeweled pins before setting them on the floor beside me.
It all felt smothering - my hair piled high on my head, the tight bodice of the dress, and the heeled shoes I didn’t have much practice walking in.
A sigh of relief worked its way out of me as I removed the last pin and my hair came tumbling down around my shoulders. Much better.
I nursed my wine as I waited for Azriel to finish the meeting, letting thoughts of Eris, this war, and all of the tension of the Hewn City float away.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, listening to the distant music, sipping from a glass that seemed to be bottomless, and letting my body slowly relax, before I felt Azriel approach.
Looking up, I gave him a drunken smile, until I remembered him walking away from me. The smile quickly turned into a scowl as I averted my gaze to my lap instead.
I expected him to say something, to snap that it was time to go, and walk away without even giving me the chance to stand up. I did not expect to feel his body heat radiating in the space beside me.
I raised my head, stunned to find him crouching beside me. Maybe I was drunker than I thought.
My breath hitched as he reached a hand up, delicately twisting one strand of my hair.
“Don’t go with Eris,” he breathed.
It must have been the alcohol swimming in my veins that had me wanting to agree.
“What?” I whispered back.
“Don’t go with him, Evelyn,” he said more firmly. “We can find another way to get him to cooperate.”
“I-” the brush of his knuckles against my cheek distracted my thoughts as I fought to control them. “I have to.”
He shook his head, dark hair brushing across his forehead.
He swiped his thumb over my cheek and just like that the spell was broken.
I jumped to my feet, fighting back tears as I instantly sobered up. The feeling of his hands on my face… on my body… in my hair. That was enough.
I regained my composure the best I could and firmly replied, “No.”
He was still on the floor, crouching with one knee pressed against the mountain stone beneath us. He looked up at me through his lashes but didn’t say anything.
I took a shaky breath. “No. It is my duty to this court to see this through.”
“Please.”
I blinked.
In the silence that followed I realized that it was not, in fact, a figment of my imagination but that the male before me had actually said that aloud.
The notion alone was so ridiculous that I barked a laugh.
“You can’t be serious,” I told him, crossing my arms and quirking a brow.
“Deadly.”
My lips parted in shock at his… at his audacity. “You don’t get to ask that of me.”
“Please, Evelyn,” he repeated and I did my best to ignore the tug in my heart at the sincerity of his words. “Anyone but Eris.”
Any compassion vanished. Anyone but Eris? Anyone but Eris?
“So I’m allowed,” I hissed the word, “To see anyone but Eris?”
I’d avoided looking at his face, instead focusing on the rage that was slowly building inside of me. But now, I turned my glare on him, wishing it could tear him to shreds.
His face betrayed nothing, mask firmly in place, “Yes.”
“I’m sorry but you don’t get to allow me to do anything.” Another harsh laugh parted my lips.
At this, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Evel-” But I cut him off with a raised hand.
“I’m assuming your presence here means the meeting is over. I’m going to find the others so we can go home. And I will be meeting with Eris. I always keep my word. I’m done.”
I turned on a heel, walking calmly over to where Feyre, Rhysand, Amren, Nesta, and Mor waited to depart.
I spared a single glance over my shoulder as I moved through the crowd and something cracked in my chest at seeing Azriel on his knees, hair falling in front of his downturned head, and a look of frustration on his face.
Well, Mor was right.
I had made him beg.
Just not for what I was hoping.
-
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