#first watching it felt like Az was just conflicted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

assriels · 1 month

Text

here i go again

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst

a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise

(banners by @/cafekitsune!)

part one

When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.

Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.

Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.

Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.

Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.

The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.

And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.

He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.

Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.

Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.

And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.

But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.

It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.

But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.

As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.

It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.

Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.

Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.

So, you decided to test the theory yourself.

It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.

(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)

You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.

Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.

You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.

Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?

The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.

If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.

You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.

Azriel.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.

You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.

You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.

In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.

You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.

You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.

You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?

Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.

So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.

One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.

The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.

And that it wasn’t him.

You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.

However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.

The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.

“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.

Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.

He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.

“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.

You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.

Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.

He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.

You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.

But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.

“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”

He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”

After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”

You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.

“Az…”

“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”

His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.

“I love you.”

Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.

A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.

Cass…?

Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.

Hey, you.

He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.

Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?

Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.

Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.

You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.

He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.

Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.

Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.

You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.

Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”

You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.

“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”

An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.

“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”

Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.

You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and…I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”

Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.

Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.

Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.

“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.

“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.

What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.

Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.

So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—

“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”

He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?

The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?

Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.

“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”

Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.

You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”

You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.

Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.

In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.

As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.

“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."

575 notes · View notes

stargirlie25 · 2 months

Text

Gwynriel.

And yes! All of these involves, History, Sparks,Conflict,Challenge and Banter!

Keep in mind some on these are crumbs and not directly linked to romance but still related to Azriel and Gwyn so please don't be mean to me!

ACOSF:

“You slew the King of Hybern,” Gwyn repeated. “With the shadowsinger’s knife.”

Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.

“Done,” Gwyn declared, the white ribbon fluttering in the wind where it hung from the beam. Behind them, a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about. The shadowsinger crossed his arms, angling his head, but remained in his half of the ring.

He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former (Gwyn)glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence.

Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, “I’m not entirely sure.”

Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face.

“If anyone can survive the Blood Rite, it’s them.”-

his brother(Azriel), who had given Gwyn a small smile of greeting upon arrival.

“Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up ... He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it.

Azriel had winnowed her and Cassian here after training, but hadn’t lingered. Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour

“Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.”

Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder.

Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway.

She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel’s.

Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved.

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

Sadistic monsters,” Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders

Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed,and smiled at them the entire time.

. “To Emerie and Gwyn.” The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire.

“You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

She’d said nothing about it during the lesson. Only glanced every now and then toward Az, who remained dutifully focused on his charges. Cassian couldn’t read the expression on her face.

but especially Gwyn—whom Azriel had found that day in Sangravah

All of these quotes are out of place 😭 still got it directly from ACOSF tho!

Bonus chapter:

He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him

His shadows peered over his wings at her.

The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.

"Happy Solstice," she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?"

"At two in the morning?"

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."

"A comfort to every growing child."

Azriel's lips twitched.

Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. "Do you sing?” He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but..."Why do you ask?" "They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?" “I am a shadowsinger--it's not a title that someone just made.” She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."

Azriel laughed. "I’ll give you that." Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone.

he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Did I basically put every scene of the bonus chapter involving Gwyn? yes but its not my fault bc Gwyns part of the bonus was PURE romance and nothing else! Argue with a wall.

#pro gwynriel

13 notes · View notes

showf4lls · 2 years

Note

Hi, I’m Azure/ Az and I use all pronouns :). I’m here for a platonic matchup please. I would prefer it with a cc! And I’m pansexual but also aro/ace :] (that’s why I would prefer platonic a matchup)

I’m very introverted but I can be pretty outgoing at times. I enjoy stepping out of my comfort zone every once in a while but I tend to usually stay where I’m comfortable. I’m also a really touchy person, and enjoy all forms of touch and am very open to cuddling and hugging etc. When I get comfortable around someone. I also don’t talk very much, im semi-verbal and so I tend to be pretty quiet but the closer I am to someone, the more of my chaotic loud side they will see. My hobbies are drawing, and colorguard (if you don’t know what it is it’s that we throw flags and weapons in the marching band.) Three of my favorite songs are broken by Anson seabra, nothing worth loving isn’t askew by lemon demon, and Lovejoy in general. I don’t really have an aesthetic, I tend to just be a mess and a mix of a bunch of conflicting things that change a lot, kinda with my gender (im genderfluid.) my fashion sense is usually mcyt merch and sweatpants, but recently it’s started to get more of jeans and sweaters with button up shirts beneath it (think a mix of Karl and Wilbur’s style.) could you do this matchup with someone form the dsmp please?

I hope you’re having a good day :D <3

― vibe check! i match you with... ranboo !

cw + info! fluff, headcanons, platonic / no CWs

includes! cc!ranboo

note! tbf i was debating on whether or not to match you with karl, but i felt like you fit better with ranboo. hope you enjoy! also, for anyone interested, feel free to check out the event here!

– you and ranboo are pretty much on the same page in terms of how you interact with your friends and the world around you, so it would be really easy to be friends with one another. y'all pace each other really well and understand when the other is struggling

– at first, you start talking by making fun of all your outgoing friends and how stressful social situations can be when you have so much anxiety in talking to new people. the two of you just kind of sit in the corner together and crack jokes about "stupid extroverts"; it's a good time

– you'll push each other to step outside of your comfort zones when it's warranted; both of you get anxious about trying new things or about the uncertainty of the outcome of a new situation, so you'll push each other to try new things if it feels necessary

– affection!! so much subtle, platonic affection. regardless of you guys just generally being pretty soft with one another, he treats you pretty similarly to how he treats aimsey. you guys are constantly touching - more of a reassurance than anything - whether it be your shoulders touching while you stand next to one another, your pinkies being linked as you stroll past the shops, cuddling while you watch a comfort film together, or waddling around while one of you is hanging off the other in a lazy sort of hug

– ranboo wouldn't mind that you're semi-verbal at all (not that anyone should)! he's always wanted to learn sign language anyways. and if sign language doesn't vibe with you? that's okay! he'll figure out a different, creative way to communicate with you and make sure you're as confident in communicating with him as he can possibly make you

– you guys are both pretty quiet when you're unsure or warming up to each other, but once the two of you get comfortable, it's really easy and fun to bounce off one another. you definitely feed off each other's energy, so watching you guys keep hyping each other up is a blast

– thinks your hobbies are super cool! he probably doesn't know a whole lot about colorguard, so he would be really appreciative if you taught him or showed him what it was, and he'd probably end up finding it really cool and interesting if i'm being honest.

– also really likes watching you draw. if you need inspiration for what to draw, just go and ask ranboo what you should draw; you can always count on him to come up with something creative and outside of the box. the only payment he asks for in response is you letting him watch you draw. he'll watch you draw literally anything. need to warm up your wrist before you start working on something potentially time-consuming? he'll literally sit and excitedly watch you doodle circles or whatever warmups you use

– additionally: gender time /ref

18 notes · View notes

snelbz · 3 years

Text

A Battlefield’s Miracle {Nessian}

A/N: This story is based post ACOSF. It will 100% contain spoilers for A Court of Silver Flames. Do not read forward if you have not finished the book yet! Written, as always, with @tacmc.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. There couldn’t have been a worse time or inopportune moment for a miracle.

When war did indeed break out with the remaining fae realms, ready to take up whatever lands were weaker their own, Nesta was one of the first to step up, much to Cassian’s utter dismay and terror.

And his disgustingly overwhelming pride.

She’d been making strides with the female Illyrians, thanks to re-emergence of the Valkyrie ranks. She, Gwyn and Emerie were infamous for their success in the Blood Rite, Nesta more so even if she wasn’t labeled a true Carynthian. Her stand at the Pass of Enalius was regarded as something straight from the legends, something rivaling Enalius’ stand itself.

Most of the women couldn’t fly, thanks to the archaic clipping of their wings, but thanks to their innate sense of battle, having grown up seeing their fathers, brothers, and cousins train, they were naturals.

They were the Valkyrie reborn, a swift, deadly legion of foot soldiers, who could kill just as well as any airborne soldier.

At Nesta’s request, Rhys and Cassian allowed them to protect the mortal lands from the incoming storm of battle. A small Illyrian legion was with them, but not to oversee or protect them. They were backup, only joining the fight if the majority of the Valkyrie were to fall.

It had been nearly three months of near daily battles when they received word of an incoming assault, larger than one they’d seen yet. To battle with as few soldiers as they had would be suicide. The full power of the Illyrian Legion would be arriving any day to ensure the protection of the mortal lands, and the continued strength of the Valkyrie. Feyre had winnowed into the camp to tell her, but Nesta could only focus on one piece of information as her sister hurriedly informed her of the plan, and of the onslaught they’d soon be facing: her mate would be here within the hour, the remainder of the Night Court’s aerial forces only a day or so behind.

It had been months since she’d seen him, though they checked in on each other regularly through the bond, mentally checking the other for injuries after a harsh battle. The mating bond was a sensual, tangible thing, something Nesta was increasingly thankful for the longer she stayed away from her mate and husband.

She felt a shift in the camp the second his feet touched down in the frozen lands, turning and rushing from the war tent she’d taken as her base of operations, leaving Feyre in the middle of a sentence, but not caring that she was ignoring her High Lady.

She found him as quickly as he found her, meeting in a small clearing, filled with tents. She was sure there were others around, whether Valkyrie or Illyrian, watching their reunion. Nesta needed him, in every sense of the word, but after she threw her arms around him she found herself pulling back to look him over. She was terrified there was something she had missed after his last battle, and it seemed he was doing the same.

“You’re okay,” she breathed, gazing up into his handsome face.

He nodded, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. “So are you.”

Neither of them were asking a question, just needing the confirmation.

They disappeared soon after, falling into the nearest tent to make their overwhelming feelings known to one another. The emotions that escaped them in the following half hour only prepared them for battle more.

A battle that they faced together.

Just over a month later, once Cassian had left and Nesta was leading her sisters into yet another battle, the first wave of nausea came.

She powered through, ignoring the roiling in her stomach, chalking it up to nerves as she cut through the line of fae soldiers.

But it happened again, day after day. And eventually, leaning over a bucket as she emptied the contents of her stomach, she couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

Nesta was pregnant.

She hadn’t even realized Gwyn and Emerie had entered her tent, having heard her getting sick. Her head was cradled in her hands and she cursed herself for being so reckless. All those months apart from Cassian, she’d quit taking her contraceptive tonic. There was no reason to, and it only slowed her down on the battlefield. But a quick and hasty joining, as perfect as it had been, was all it had taken.

“Nesta?”

Her head snapped up, finding her sisters, not by blood, but by bond, watching her. It was Emerie who had spoken her name, but Gwyn’s teal eyes had gone wide. She could scent it. Somehow, over the smell of bile in the bucket before her and the blood soaked battlefield, Gwyn had immediately sensed the change in Nesta’s scent and body.

“You’re pregnant,” she breathed and Emerie’s eyes widened as she too caught the scent.

Nesta wasn’t sure what to say, terrified to confirm or deny the life growing inside her.

A message was sent to Velaris and within minutes, Feyre and Madja had winnowed into the camps.

It took the healer less than a few minutes to confirm the small life within her.

“You’re coming back to Velaris,” Feyre said, as Madja washed her hands and went to tend to the badly wounded from the previous battle.

“No,” Nesta protested, donning her leathers, as she did every day. “I’m leading my sisters.”

“Gwen and Emerie can take the lead,” Feyre protested. “They are just as skilled and know what they’re doing-.”

“I can’t just leave them-.”

“You’re pregnant!” Feyre yelled, and the look of pure panic on her youngest sister’s face had Nesta stopping in her tracks. The High Lady of the Night Court’s voice turned into a broken whisper as she begged, “Please, think this through.”

Nesta’s jaw hardened as she lifted her chin, doing everything she could to keep herself from shaking her head. “Do you expect Cassian to come back to Velaris? To sit idly while our troops battle to protect Prythian?”

“I expect him to do his duty,” Feyre said, her tone firm. “Just as I expect you to do yours.”

Her words were clear.

Nesta’s duty - not as a soldier, but as a mother.

She shook her head, her eyes remaining on her sister’s. “He’ll miss it.”

It. Everything. All of it. Her pregnancy, the child growing inside of her, possibly even the birth of their child.

The gut-wrenching thought was overwhelming.

Nesta fell back against the bed, sitting and letting her head fall into her hands, her nerves shot. She needed to talk to Cassian, needed to sort it out.

“Nesta.”

Her eyes shot to Feyre’s, the eyes identical to her own. Except her youngest sister’s eyes held fear. Fear for her safety, the safety of her unborn niece or nephew.

With a sigh, Nesta let her eyes fall shut and nodded. She dragged a hand down her face, and said, “I need to meet with Gwyn and Em. I need to plan with them, figure out how to rework the front line-.”

“They can handle it.”

The voice came from behind her and she turned to find Azriel stepping through the tent.

Nesta’s eyes softened as she took in her friend, one of the warriors who had trained her into who she was today.

“They had the same training you did,” he said, coming to stand next to her sister. “I’ll stay here for a couple weeks, but you can’t stay. It’s not safe for you. Or for the baby.”

Nesta lifted a brow.

Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. “If you think I’m letting you stay here during this-.”

“Since when do you order me around, Shadowsinger?” Nesta asked, meaning it as a joke, but finding it hard to dismiss the tension from her tone.

Azriel could tell.

He could always tell. His eyes softened, although his frame remained rigid. “As soon as Cassian arrives, I’ll winnow him to you.”

We’re in the middle of a gods-damned war! Nesta wanted to scream. And yet, she was conflicted. She knew what she had to do, knew what this new duty entailed, knew what her next step would be, even if she didn’t fully like the idea.

She never backed down from battle, from war, from anything.

But she would not endanger her child, no matter how guilty it made her feel.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta nodded and reached her hand out towards her sister. Before Feyre took her hand, she looked at Azriel, unable to stop the tear that had finally slid down her cheek. “Tell them I’m sorry,” she breathed.

His smile was gentle, but even she had a hard time believing him as he said, “You have no reason to be.”

With that she was winnowed away, back to Velaris, as far from the small camp on the mortal lands as she could be. Far from her soul-bonded sisters, and fellow warriors. Far from the raging battles she’d grown to know as a part of her.

As soon as Cassian touched down in the ramshackle camp, he knew something wasn’t right. None of the Valkyrie would look at him and the bond… It was near silent.

He hurried for her tent, not even remembering what the summons he’d received had said, not that he’d read it all too carefully. He’d been asked to get to the mortal realm as fast as he could and after leaving his tent, he found the first Fae he knew that could winnow.

It had only been minutes since that small note had appeared from Rhysand, and he burst into the tent and found not his mate, but his brother.

“What the fuck is going on, Az?”

His voice held none of the joking tone it usually did when he spoke with the shadowsinger, but-.

He could scent her, she’d been here only a few moments before. But something was…off.

Words barely audible, a deathly quiet, terrified whisper, he breathed, “Where is Nesta?”

Without a word, Azriel held out his scarred hand.

Cassian took it and then they were tumbling through space and time and he had no idea where they were going to end up.

Where was Nesta? Where was his mate?

When they appeared in the atrium of the river house, Cassian looked around. “I don’t understand.”

“Your mate is waiting for you,” Azriel replied, gesturing towards their room, and it was then Cassian noted the hint of a smile on his face.

And like that, he was gone, disappearing into shadows and mist as if he hadn’t even been standing before him.

The house was quiet and Cassian took the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the long hallway until he approached their closed bedroom door.

He debated on knocking, not sure what he’d find on the other side, but with a shaking hand, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

Nesta was inside the attached bathroom, wearing the pants of her leathers, though the intricate jacket was draped across the end of the bed. She wore a thin, white shirt, which showed off her toned arms. He couldn’t see any discernible wounds on her, but was still hesitant as he took a step into the bathroom.

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him come in, but suddenly, he appeared in the mirror behind her, and the force of her emotions hit her all at once.

She was in his arms instantly, breathing in his scent with an eagerness she hadn’t felt since their last encounter. Neither of them said a word as their clothes hit the floor, but the second Cassian’s lips met her neck, all of his, his primal instincts faded and he swept back into reality the moment he found himself focusing on her scent.

The change in it.

His chest heaved as he pulled back and met her tearful gaze.

“How long have you known?” he asked, quietly.

She shook her head, slowly. The soft chuckle was involuntary. “Not even an hour.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he said, quietly.

It wasn’t a question, but Nesta nodded, even as she ignored the urge to roll her eyes. “High Lady’s orders.”

Lifting her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed, his carnal instincts long forgotten, and he laid down next to her. Cassian’s hand hovered over her stomach, a small, barely discernible bump there, hardly able to believe what was in front of him.

“The battle against Rask’s forces,” he said, voice quiet. “You hadn’t been taking your tonic?”

Sniffling, she shook her head and gently pressed his hand the rest of the way to her skin, to her belly. “It hadn’t been on my mind,” she admitted.

Cassian was quiet for a moment before he huffed a laugh, his fingers moving in a slow, clockwise rotation over her abdomen. “A baby.”

Nesta nodded, watching him. “It’s not a good time.”

“Is there ever a good time?” Cassian muttered, looking up at her. “The reality of our world doesn’t grant us much peace.”

“Is it even fair to bring a child into this world?” Nesta whispered.

Cassian’s eyes softened, although they held no judgement. “I thought you wanted children.”

“I did,” she said, then followed it quickly with, “I do. It’s just… We’re in the middle of war, Cass.”

“War will end,” he promised, his eyes growing soft. “Soon.”

She closed her eyes, gently pressing her forehead against his, and the two of them laid there, quietly basking in the happiness of the little miracle they’d created. Of the child they would soon bring into this world.

Cassian couldn’t stay long, only able to stay the night and have breakfast with his family. Azriel was still monitoring the front at the mortal lands, but the rest of his family was there. There was no shield to be put up to mask Nesta’s scent, so the second Elain walked into the vast dining room and found her eldest sister, she froze. And as soon as she scented the change, she was in motion. Her arms were around Nesta in a flash, the sound coming from her reminiscent of a mix of a sob and laugh.

But as soon as breakfast had been cleared away, after Nyx had woken from his nap, Rhysand and Cassian stepped out into the lush yard. With a final surge of love and pride down the bond, they vanished into the air, back to the Illyrian front.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Breathe.”

Nesta shot her youngest sister and High Lady a look of pure hatred. Feyre only rolled her eyes and held her sister’s hand a little bit tighter.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Nesta hissed, although her entire body was rigid and clenched.

Labor was no joke. Nesta had watched her mother birth two more children after her, and even though she was too young to remember, she never forgot the horrid screams that came from her mother’s bedroom.

Nuala, Cerridwen, and Elain all hovered around the bed, keeping Nesta as comfortable as possible until Madja arrived.

And until her mate arrived.

Since she’d found out, it had been the longest nine months of her life, only seeing Cassian in small moments when he could leave the bloodshed of battle. Once it was apparent her water had broken, Rhys had winnowed to the location he’d known Cassian’s camp had been last, only to find it hastily packed and abandoned. The sounds of battle weren’t far off, but Rhys could sense the death without moving closer.

He’d tried to mentally reach Cassian, but found his shields were locked in place, as he often did during a bloody battle. Azriel, however, was by his side in an instant. “What is it?”

He could smell the blood of both mortal men and the fae on his brother, not daring to look into his mind to see who all he’d had to cut down in battle. “Nesta’s in labor.”

A sharp swallow was the only reaction Azriel allowed his High Lord to see. He said, “He won’t leave the battle, you know that.”

He would, Rhys thought, if he used his power, his title of High Lord to command him. But he would never do that, especially asking him to abandon his post during a battle. Rhys only nodded. “I know. Just… As soon as it dies down, as soon as he comes back to himself, get him to Velaris.”

Azriel nodded, his orders received, and he was gone, a misting, swirling shadow folding back into the fray.

It was hours before the violence subsided, hours before Cassian finally removed his helmet, surveying the carnage and death that surrounded him. He felt Azriel’s presence, rather than saw him appear, and turned to his brother, expecting a report of who all had been lost.

The look on his face told him otherwise.

“What.”

He still wasn’t fully back to himself yet, though he tried. He still wore the mask of the Commander, the male who had slaughtered so many, to protect his people, Enalius reborn.

Azriel’s words were quiet, but urgent. “It’s time.”

Cassian blinked, not understanding what his brother was saying.

And then he dropped his shields and everything from the other end of the bond slammed into him with a force so strong her face physically staggered back a step.

Labor.

Nesta was in labor.

His child was about to enter the world and he’d been so lost in his battle lust that he’d blocked her out.

“How long?” He asked, eyes going wide.

Azriel shook his head. “I’m not sure. At least four hours.”

Swallowing hard, Cassian looked around at the death and destruction around him. He looked down at the blood and gore that coated his hands and his leathers. He couldn’t abandon his troops after a battle, but his mate…

His child…

There was no question.

Azriel extended his hand and Cassian took it, and a second later, there was nothing but shadows left behind.

*****************

“Nesta, you’re going to have to start pushing,” Elain said, gently, brushing the loose, sweaty strands of hair off of Nesta’s forehead.

“No,” she gritted out, her teeth clenched together. “I can’t. Not until-.” Another wave of blinding pain passed through her and the scream that tore from her was pure agony. Once she could think again, speak again, she breathed, “Not until Cassian is here.”

“That’s not in your control, I’m afraid,” Madja chimed in from the foot of the bed. “Baby will come when baby comes, and baby is ready.”

“Not unless I say so,” Nesta spat, just before another scream flew from her throat. “Fuck!”

“Baby’s coming,” Madja said, remaining perfectly calm as she put herself into position. With Nesta’s hand in Elain’s, and her other in Feyre’s, she had no choice but to push.

Madja was right.

Baby wasn’t waiting.

There was a thundering on the stairs, and heavy footsteps approached the door before it flew open.

A sob tore from Nesta as Cassian appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide, taking in the scene before him.

“Nes,” he breathed, taking a few steps towards her, but Feyre stepped in front of him.

“You can’t be in here,” she said, firmly.

His eyes narrowed. “Like hell, I can’t.”

“The High Lady is correct,” Madja chimed in, turning back to glance at him. “You are…covered in filth, and Lady Nesta cannot chance an infection.”

“He’s my mate,” she breathed, panting slightly from the pain, the urge to push.

“He’s covered in blood, Nesta,” Feyre said, turning back to look at her.

“We do not have time to wait for him to bathe and return,” Madja said, looking under the blanket draped across Nesta’s lap, to provide what modesty she could. “The baby is ready, my lady. It’s time.”

A firm hand wrapped around Cassian’s arm and began to tug him towards the door. He turned to find Rhysand when he was out in the hall and the door was shut on a phantom wind.

It was only a few seconds before he heard a sob and a yell full of anguish and suffering.

The sound made him want to vomit.

“Bath is ready,” Rhysand said, his hand still around Cassian’s arm. “Bathe, go back. Until then, she’s in good hands.”

“I’m missing it,” Cassian breathed, but before he could form a cohesive thought, he was being shoved into a tub full of warm water.

Nuala and Cerridwen had stripped him down and were scrubbing his skin raw in a matter of seconds. Cassian couldn’t focus, though, could hardly feel as they cleansed the blood and gore and carnage from his skin.

All he could focus on was Nesta’s screaming from upstairs.

Cassian helped them scrub his massive frame, and between the three of them they washed the remains of battle from the Commander until the lukewarm bath water turned pink from the blood of his enemies and his fallen comrades.

As soon as he was clean, the wraiths vanished, allowing him to dry off and redress himself, a tunic and pants left on the counter of the bathroom. Every scream from his wife had him flinching, every cry and overwhelming wave of pain reaching him down the bond now that his shields had been fully dropped.

But suddenly, the screams stopped. Suddenly, love and adoration was all he could feel from Nesta, and he threw open the door and was hurrying up the stairs again, his bare feet padding against the carpet.

The door was slightly open, cracked just a hair, and he could hear quiet murmuring from inside. Hesitantly, he reached out and pushed the door open.

He froze, his body growing completely still as he took in the sight before him. Nesta laid in the bed, her chest heaving, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Elain and Feyre were both smiling, crying themselves, as they looked to the foot of the bed, where Madja was holding the smallest of babes.

A baby.

Nesta’s baby.

His baby.

The gentlest of cries filled the silence.

Madja chuckled, softly, as she cut the umbilical cord and laid the baby on the softest of towels to clean her up.

Her.

He had a daughter.

“Cass?”

Cassian’s eyes drifted to Nesta and his vision blurred.

He didn’t consciously tell his body to move, didn’t remember asking his feet to carry him across the room, but before he knew it, he was kneeling by the bed, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered, the tears already streaming down his cheeks. “You did so, so good.”

“Lord Cassian.”

He pressed a kiss to Nesta’s forehead, but moved back, allowing Madja to lay the small bundle in Nesta’s arms. Her tiny wings were loosely tucked inside the blanket she was wrapped in.

Nesta’s eyes filled with tears again as she looked down at the precious baby in her arms. “She’s beautiful.”

Silently, Nesta’s sisters and the healer left them alone, to spend a few moments last as a family.

The tiny baby began to fuss and Nesta softly brushed a finger along her cheek, gently shushing her.

She calmed immediately.

“She looks like you,” Cassian whispered, staring at his daughter in awe. “Has your nose. Your lips.”

“Your skin,” Nesta breathed. “And that unruly, curly hair of yours.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. True enough, little tufts of dark curls covered her head. “She’s perfect.”

Nesta didn’t reply. She simply swept her thumb over their daughter’s soft cheek.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Cassian said, at last. “I… I’m sorry I missed it, that I wasn’t here for you.”

“You’re here now,” she murmured, looking up at him. “You’re here and that’s all that matters.”

With a soft smile, Cassian wiped a wayward tear from her cheek and pressed his lips to hers.

Beaming up at him, Nesta whispered, “Hold her.”

He froze up a little, only having held Nyx a handful times when he was a baby. Babies were fragile and he was…

Well, there was a reason both Nesta and Amren had always called him a brute.

“It’s okay,” Nesta breathed, sensing his hesitation.

He nodded and sat down on the bed next to her. She transferred the tiny bundle to him and her eyes opened almost as soon as she settled in his arms.

Eyes like the storm gazed up at him and Cassian had never felt so much love in his heart.

He swallowed roughly, brushing a gentle thumb across her cheek. He looked up at Nesta. “Have you thought of a name?”

She smiled, fondly, softly. “Brenna.”

“Brenna,” Cassian repeated. “I like Brenna.”

“I’ve been holding onto that name for a while,” Nesta said, quietly.

Cassian chuckled. “I can tell. There was no hesitation.”

Nesta smiled as her head fell against Cassian’s shoulder. She looked down at her daughter. “Brenna felt right.”

After pressing a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head, Cassian gazed down at their daughter. “She’s… she’s perfect.”

“She is,” Nesta replied, a gentle yawn breaking through her words.

Cassian scooted closer on the bed, careful not to jostle their daughter who had settled back into a deep sleep of her own. He wrapped an arm around Nesta’s shoulders, and she wrapped herself around him as best she could.

In that moment, Cassian couldn’t imagine anything else mattering in this world. No lands, no wars, no hidden troves beneath the sea. In his arms, his wife and his daughter, were the most precious treasures he had ever received.

#a court of silver flames #nessian #acosf spoilers #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas

369 notes · View notes

romaisamaria · 3 years

Text

All I want in ACOSF is a flashback moment where we get to see the battle with Hybern from Nesta and Cassian POV.

Because I need to know what Nesta's thoughts and feelings were when she decided to use her body to protect Cassian. For her to finally admit so openly that she cared for him. That she would rather die than leaving him alone to face Hybern.

I need to know what Cassian's thoughts were five seconds before promising her that he will find her in the next life. Before coming to terms that they would die together. I need to know what he was thinking while he kissed her. I need to know why the fuck he walked out of there and left Nesta afterwards.

I need to know what Nesta felt when she cried for Cassian. When she watched him broken, hurt, crawling to get to her. I need to know what she felt seeing him like that. And then once she knew they were safe, I need to know what she felt seeing Cassian leave with Mor and Az and never turning back. As if the kiss and the promise that came with it never happened.

I need that scene to be replayed from their own feelings and thoughts and not through Feyre's eyes.

ACOSF will have approximately 780 pages. I need at least 80 pages to be just that scene. I fucking need it.

I think is a very unresolved conflict that needs to be addressed in ACOSF because they've never talked about it. And if there's any hope of them having an open and trustworthy relationship in the future, they need first to lay out all of the shit they've been holding back for the past two years.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses

453 notes · View notes

bookofmirth · 3 years

Note

Good 🦊

I was thinking, Rhys and his problem with Lucien.

I think it's because he didn't put Feyre first and put his problems aside.

Cass and Az, Mor had the thought of Lucien having to leave everything to his Great Mistress and to hell with Lucien's inner conflict.

Lucien failed Feyre, but I don't like to say he was wrong and all.

Lucien didn't want to choose, he lived an abusive friendship with Tamlin and felt indebted to this Great Lord.

Lucien to save Feyre would probably have to leave the Spring Court and everyone would easily accept Feyre into his Court, but could he protect him from the Night Court?

Should someone who also needed to be saved stand aside and give up in favor of someone else?

I consider more that Lucien failed Feyre because he had internal conflicts to demand that he drop everything for someone else.

Comparing Az, Cass and Mor who live at Court with a Great Lord who doesn't go after them with guns and fists is easy.

More and the reality of others like spring and autumn, would it be the same as theirs?

Good morning! (This was yesterday morning for me, that little fox has helped me keep track of my inbox hehe)

If we look up the phrase "stuck between a rock and a hard place", you know what we will find?

Lucien Van-fucking-serra.

Everything you listed is all the different reasons and ways that Lucien just cannot freaking win with these people. The only thing that would make Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor give Lucien any respect is if he kisses Feyre's ass the same way that they do. The fact that Feyre has "forgiven" him doesn't matter.

Lucien failed Feyre because he had internal conflicts to demand that he drop everything for someone else.

EXACTLY. Lucien had way more to consider than just "what is right and what is wrong in this immediate situation in front of me?" He also had to think about what he knew of Rhys's reputation, what he knew Tamlin was going through, whom he owed loyalty to, the consequences if he didn't bring her back, the way that he watched her sink into depression after acotar, not to mention the way that she was acting in that scene - and we know from being in her head that she was putting on an act! It was in no way a black and white, good vs bad situation.

Lucien was around when Feyre was a trembling human, he was her friend when that's what she still was human learning her strength, and now she's a High Fae and a High Lady, who intentionally manipulated a situation in which he would be victimized? He should be telling them to fuck off.

I really freaking wish that the elucien mating bond hadn't been discovered at the end of acomaf. It made everyone look at Lucien differently and immediately start thinking about how they could use that to their advantage, or whether they could trust him or not.

They're like the fandom! Only thinking about characters in terms of who they might bang. 😭

#lucien #acotar: lucien #lucien vanserra #acomaf #ask #feyre archeron #nice morning anon #thank you #i know you sent another this morning #maybe I will get to it tomorrow 💀

23 notes · View notes

ahsokasanity · 3 years

Text

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons

My First Post - ACOSF fanfic

I have only just discovered fanfiction and some of the stuff here and on AO3 is addictive. Big thanks to sarah-bae-maas, TrashForAzriel, MusicalMassasinsXxx, hey_itsjoanna and Chele shutupeccles for your inspiration.

Have about 15 chapters written, but will post slowly so that I can keep up with the story. No doubt if I haven’t finished a cohesive story by this time next year, SJM will have blown all of my plot lines out of the water, but that’s OK too, she is a legend and can do whatever she likes and I will love it!

Set after the special Az chapter of ACOSF. Attempting to fit in with the rest of Silver Flames and set us up for more Gwynriel. Hope you can handle the build up! SPOILERS. Do not read if you have not read ACOTAR up to and including ACOSF and the extras

Chapter One

Azriel noticed the glint of gold as it swung out of the top of Gwyn’s fighting gear the following day. He suppressed a smile and his shadows gathered tightly around him.

Why was that moment so pleasing to him? She knew the gift was from a friend, why wouldn’t she wear it? It set off her copper hair and looked as though the chain had been wrought directly from her very being. Could she have any idea that Az left it for her? Would she be dismayed to find it was from him, re-gifted in-fact after the failed attempt to please Elain? Az gritted his teeth. He remembered all of those enticing few moments with the beautiful Archeron sister. Finally he would find out if she was truly made of porcelain, or of the tougher stuff that the inner circle had glimpsed a few times during Nesta’s recovery.

Rhys. His timing was disastrous, his timing was annoying. Perhaps his timing was fortuitous. Why would The Mother provide mates for his brothers after all this time and leave him out. He guessed it was his luck, his destiny to be so left out of the family.

His relationship with Mor was better. They did not get to spend time together these days and she seemed happier. He didn’t think that it had anything to do with him. For the first time in a few hundred years that thought did not make him want to slash something. For the first time in centuries, he simply could be with Morrigan and not need more. He’d thought that it was Elain. Rhys dictated otherwise.

The snow was swirling around the training ring and the priestesses were doing a very good job of ignoring Nesta and Cassian’s scent and eye movements in between bouts of decidedly trying to hack at each other with an axe (Nesta) and a cudgel (Cassian). This would deteriorate into something messy soon as Nesta began to feel the weight of her weapon and struggled to aim the cutting edge where it would do the most damage. Azriel could see the humour in Cassian’s eyes as he too saw the fatigue begin and the blows become clumsy.

He glanced down at his scarred hands and missed the swipe by Cassian at Nesta’s exposed side while she ducked and came up with the blunt side of the axe at his waist. The gathered trainees gushed and Gwyn and Emerie clapped as Cassian surrendered his cudgel in return for a light brush of Nesta’s lips across his. He grasped the axe in his free hand and removed it to the weapons rack while Nesta was congratulated by the others. Gwyn stood back a little, she fingered the golden rose around her neck and glanced quickly at Azriel. He shrunk back into the water table and found his finger nails needing a cut, and a clean for that matter. His gaze lifted moments later to find Gwyn’s back to him as she returned to lunges with her practise sword.

Az cursed himself a coward. He really needed to visit one of those pleasure houses that Rhys had basically ordered him to go to. His libido was on a hair trigger and this Elain/Gwyn, should he shouldn’t he was the most difficult situation he’d found himself in that was not life threatening. What was sex without feelings. A relief he reminded himself. It would be a God’s damned relief.

Cassian had arranged the troops (they were not all Valkyrie or even qualified Illyrian fighters yet but they were certainly something) in formation of four lines of three. They began their cool down exercises and Azriel was able to revert to his normal strategy of walking the side and back of the group while Cassian instructed. The women had originally been uncomfortable with his presence, especially behind them, but he had learned to stay a good distance and using his softest voice, make corrections here and there. Sometimes he would ask one of the others to help by touching or directing the person having trouble with a move, but he never touched them himself.

Nesta made a suggestion that the group could use some chanting and humming to get in time with each other’s moves. Gwyn agreed to lead, she sang in a low undulating voice that seemed to carry out around the training ring and back to all of those repeating her words. Az found himself splaying his wings a little as if they wanted to absorb the sound. His shadows quieted until they were nearly flush against his whole body. This. He thought to himself. This is what he needed to calm and maybe get some sleep. He found his throat closing and emotion washed through him with the pure sound of Gwyn harnessing the breeze and the replies of the group.

Cassian punched him lightly on the arm.

“You really are a brute brother” Azriel shook his head and smiled at Cassian

“Interestingly brother, I get the impression that you liked that cool down and maybe could do with some more of that…” he looked over his shoulder at the water station where Nesta and her besties were sculling water and encouraging each other in what looked like teasing.

“……….relaxation”. Cassian did not let the tone deny what he was inferring.

“I could kill Rhys” Azriel grumbled

“For what?” Cassian was obviously shocked, “Rhysie did not tell me anything that I have not already guessed at, so whatever you’re talking about, you’re going to have to explain to me at some point”

Azriel shifted his feet and wrapped himself in shadows and wings.

“Just your average, you know five hundred year old male watching his brothers mate successfully and wondering where he fits into this family these days” He thought that he had diverted the conversation just enough to get Cass to concentrate on things that might upset Az and get him off the topic of horniness. The trouble with being friends with someone for five hundred years is that they can SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU.

Cassian clapped his hand between Azriel’s wings and shot into his ear at a level that none of the ladies could hear

“Things get tight sometimes Az, and I believe that Esther from the Sidra Salvation would be VERY pleased to see you again”

“Fuck Cas, keep it down. You know what these females have faced”

Cassian merely looked intently at his discomforted visage.

“As do you my friend, as do you”

Game Cassian. Azriel knew then what had been obvious to his friend, the wanting the lust. Gods, so long as he was not showing that side to anyone else. He couldn’t be, he didn’t even know what he felt. Except rung out, unsatisfied and weary of the machinations of outside influences who wanted to thrust Prythian back into conflicts that it could little afford.

Azriel spread his wings and nodded to Cassian

“I’ve got places to be” as he shot straight up on the wing, then disappeared as he winnowed as far as he could in the one jump. He winnowed to Mor

Chapter Two

#acosf #gwynriel #Moriel #Elriel #sjm books #fanfic #angst #no smut yet #Nessian #House of Wind

26 notes · View notes

drjackandmissjo · 4 years

Text

Watch me make ‘em bow one by one by

Feysand Masterlist

Feyre’s first time in the Hewn City, Rhys-less

“You don't have to go in alone.” Mor said with a grave tone. Her friend was willing to go straight into the worst place in the universe for her, in case she didn't feel comfortable.

Feyre’s heart constricted at the idea of putting the blonde in that position, even Rhys tried to limit her time under the House of Mist.

“I'm not going there alone. Do you think any of those Illyrians are letting me out of their sight unsupervised? I could try to tell Az to stay here and take you with me, but we both know he wouldn't stay put.” she laughed, fretting nonchalance although her heart was already racing and her hands were clammy, toying with her bracelets and rings to keep from shaking. Mor noticed, of course, as did the warrior behind her.

A year had passed since they defeated Hybern. A wonderful year of going to court meetings and patching years of damaged history and rewiring the mental links that kept people believing that the Night Court, her court, was wicked and cruel and violent and ruthless. Feyre worked hard, studied harder, to make sure they made their world a better place. As did Rhys and everyone of her new family. Her sisters were still adjusting, Elain better than Nesta, but slowly and neither wanted anything to do with official business. She was secretly glad about it, since it meant less conflict with her eldest sister who had an opinion, sometimes wrong or simply bad, about everything, and less pressure on the other, who was still learning how to handle her new powers.

Although maybe with Nesta by her side, Feyre would've been less nervous about the meeting.

Feeling a stroke of concern through the mental bond she had with her mate, she replied back with a calming and encouraging one.

Taking in a deep breath of the cold air, she looked up at her friend, :“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. If something goes wrong I'll simply destroy everyone in that throne room.” she said, a wicked smile appearing on her painted lips.

Her whole outfit was picked for the sole purpose of flaunting her position as High Lady: a tight black bodice, sleeveless to reveal her tattoos that expressed her power over the court and completely backless, to remind everyone of her alliance with the monster Bryaxis; several layers of ruffled silk, rigorously black, that made her look like she was a walking storm cloud, ready to unleash rain and lighting, which she could do easily; a diadem made of onyx and silver, crowning her as High Lady, matching with a ring that signaled her imminent wedding with the most powerful of High Lords. Her eyes were lined with black kohl and lips stained blood red. She had hidden her wings, choosing instead to use Spring's powers to elongate her canines, giving her an extra cruel look. Even if he was useless as a ruined rag full of holes, she had to admit that Tamlin’s powers were quite helpful in more ways than one.

She looked powerful, felt nervous and was ready to kill. ‘Just a regular Friday, then.’ said her mate through the bond.

Mor still didn't look convinced, but patience was not amongst Feyre's virtues, so she simply waved at the other female, before turning to Azriel, who was dutifully ready. His bright blue siphons contrasted his dark clothing and his shadows circled around his body, whispering to him and following his command. He shoot them out before silently winnow away, to announce her surprise visit.

No one in the Court of Nightmares knew of this impromptu meeting, especially Mor’s father, Keir, who recently was causing some commotion. Voices travelled fast to the spymaster’s ears and were immediately reported. Rhys, who was in Winter to fix the dent in his and Kallias’ relationship, asked her if she was ready to terrorise them herself, and Feyre was rather glad of the opportunity to prove herself.

When one of Azriel’s shadows came back, she simply turned once more to her friend.

“Good luck. Don't kill them all in one sitting.”

Laughing, Feyre took off winnowing to her other formal residence.

@@@

The first thing she noticed, as always, was the cold wind. She could feel the mountain below, the life and depraved actions of the many vile creatures that inhabited the lower levels. She had appeared on the upper levels, on the mansion atop of the mountain, where she once had to stay once a month for a short period of time.

Slowly, she let a little of her powers run free, reach far into the core of the mountain. She made in tremble with a single thought and felt the panic rise fast in the minds of the Fae below her. Long gone were the days when she was the one afraid of them, a different life far away from the reality she now lived in.

A shadow patiently waited for her, leading her way as guards with stiff spines tensed and bowed at her as she walked past them, not giving a single glance to any.

When she reached the massive and heavy doors, she viciously smirked at the two other guards, that quickly opened them for her, pungent fear drenching their scents. Her Shadowsinger appeared behind her, manifesting easily out of his shadows with an unreadable expression on his stoic face.

‘Everything okay?’ he mentally asked her through the small opening she had left for him, knowing neither him nor Rhys would've let her go to the Hewn City without an emergency hidden signal for Az to read immediately.

Imperceptibly nodding, she sighed deeply before loudly complaining languidly to none in particular, :“It is rather humid in here.”. With a wicked grin, she used her Day wind, eliciting terrified screams and making cups and papers and skirts fly in a turbulent haze.

Genuinely smiling at the havoc she wrecked, the High Lady of the Night Court began to slowly walk towards the two equal thrones at the end of the room, deliberately taking her time and looking at everything and everyone. The high Faes parted on her wake and bowed deeply, averting her piercing gaze. She could easily feel their thoughts, scared and confused and silently begging the Cauldron for mercy.

‘Good.’ she simply thought.

A proud wave washed over the bond, encouraging her to keep going.

When she reached the dais off the two thrones, she casually glanced back: the inhabitants of that corrupted court were still bowing, some kneeled to the ground, all with low eyes staring at the ground. Azriel was still behind her, advert to any possible danger but looking extremely bored. She immediately spotted Keir, who was bowed next to the thrones but openly staring at her, challenging her.

Feyre had came plenty of times there with Rhys, to torment and rule beside him. But this was her first time alone, the most important of those visits. And Keir was trying to get on her nerves, to make her lose focus and slip.

‘He is an utter fool.’ she thought, sharing the message with the shadow singer, the corners of whose mouth tugged slightly upwards.

‘Show time, Feyre.’

Facing again in front of her and walking up the steps to her thrones, she called back :“Why don't you make yourself useful, dear Keir, and bring us something to drink.”, stressing her way of addressing him, the importance of the explicit delivery of the action clear.

She knew he had bolted upwards, offended by her words and speechless to reply, before she had even turned to the room. Indeed he was staring at her, pure hatred in his eyes as they burned with rage. She simply smiled sweetly baring her fangs at him, waiting for his move.

He had three possibilities, three paths laying ahead of him: retort back, commenting how he was not a squire rather rudely, and thus disobeying to a specific order from his High Lady; sending another to attend the task and, again, not completing fully her command; doing as she had politely asked, without commenting. He looked more inclined for the first choice, but he managed to regain composure, apparently remembering that she still had not dismissed them from their slouched positions and bowed once more, falsely and deep to the waist. His scent full of hatred.

‘Poor fool, he believes he's running the show!’ she thought to herself.

“Today, Keir. Unless you have something to object.” was all the attention she gave to the older male, before casting a broad glaze at the crowd beneath her. She was torn between leaving them like that for her entire stay, conscious that only few would dare defy her and ready to strike them down. Instead she simply said “Carry on with your usual stuff”, adding a dismissal wave of her hand that they might’ve missed and they quickly reverted back to their activities, the majority of their scents dripping fear.

She noticed some musical instruments on one corner of the room, undoubtedly the most acoustic place that guaranteed the sounds to be carried to all the four corners, behind stone pillars and to the walls. “Someone play.” she ordered and immediately a few inhabitants of the court of Nightmares began to stroke the cords of the harp and the piano, creating a smoothing melody that reverberated throughout the spacious area.

Pleased, she moved from her poised sitting position, sprawling on the chair like a cat on a couch, and began to stare at her black coated nails, the perfect picture of boredom.

Not even a minute had passed that she turned to her spymaster, who was casually leaning against one of the pillars of the ceiling, another picture of complete annoyance, were not for his hyper vigilant eyes. “If he's not here in a moment, break his fingers.” she said, loudly enough to be heard by all and elicit terrified gasps from the court.

The Illyrian warrior simply shrugged.

Unfortunately for them, Keir appeared to the dais off the thrones in that same instant, eyes wide at the treat. “Shame” she said, again loud enough to be heard and let him approach. She took the cup of wine he was handing her as Azriel moved up the stairs to collect his.

Keir grew bolder, “What do we owe this unexpected visit, Milady?” he asked. His tone was not openly hostile, but masqueraded poorly his blatant disdain towards her.

Ignoring him completely, she swirled her glass, focusing her interests to its red content. “Should I have it checked for poison, Steward?”

Keir nodded furiously, “Of course not, Milady. I would never hurt you.” he said, although his eyes told another tale.

Azriel moved back to the bottom of the stairs, viciously eyeing Keir and silently ordering him to do the same, but the male stood still, stiff as a wooden board.

“Milady.” he pressed her again. She merely waved her hand, sending wind towards his direction and making him tumble off the stairs, his fall ending with a loud thud. Everyone in the roomed abruptly stopped, waiting for what was to come next.

“Cheers” she said pointing her glass towards Azriel before sipping the dark beverage.

Turning towards the steward of the Hewn City, she eyed him rather violently, letting her rage show through them in the way Nesta had taught her. When it came to glaring, her sister was a professional.

After having taken another sip, she began to speak, :“We heard some interesting stories lately. I thought it might be something to report back to you, Keir, considering you are in all of them.”

She sent down the bond the image of the male below her, of how he immediately paled, of how his eyes widened almost comically and of how his hands began to shake. A wicked enjoyment ran through her and she could've swore Azriel felt the same.

“I... Milady, I have no idea…” he began to say, but she simply silenced him with her Daemati powers. His hands flew immediately at his neck, as if to protect it from her magic.

“I don't remember giving you permission to talk,” she told him, leaning forward and showing her teeth, “and I don't think you were allowed to stand up.” she continued viciously. Immediately Azriel was behind him, fast as lighting, forcing the older Fae to his knees. He fell down hard, a loud noise of bone breaking echoing in the room.

“Cassian has to pay up.” her mate said through their bond. She sent a wave of confusion back and then came the explanation:“We bet on who would break the first bone.”, he said smugly. “Illyrians.” she simply replied, before shutting him up and moving back to the scene in front of her.

She leaned back on the throne once more, resuming her drinking with a grin plastered on her blood red lips.

“As I was saying, before being such rudely interrupted,”, a harsh look thrown at her and a smirk shot back, lifting her spell, “we wanted you to confirm those stories. Apparently you're not happy with our arrangement?” she asked lifting her free hand, the one with the tattoo that declared her High Lady of the Night Court, and letting it rest dramatically on her chest, above her heart, her face a mark of mocked hurt and confusion.

When Keir didn't reply, she simply reminded him that she had asked a question, although his silence could be taken as an affirmation. “It is also not polite to avoid answering. What are you so afraid of, dear Keir?” her voice saccharine and lethal at the same time.

Slightly panicking now, he began to explain that the situation was different and making up excuse left and right, but Feyre simply raised her hand to shut him up, “It's a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ kind of question, Keir. Don't waste your breaths, Cauldron knows how many more you have left in you!” her veiled treat hitting him in full force.

He shut his mouth immediately, nostrils flaring as he slowly nodded.

Sighing loudly and dramatically swinging an arm over her eyes, she continued, “That’s what I thought you'd say, you dumb fucking horse!”

She could feel Azriel’s amusement and a smile appeared on her lips on its own accord, in her mind almost ruining her facade but probably strengthening her character.

“And tell me, dear Keir, why is that?”

“I do not think...” he began but she interrupted him abruptly, the occasion too good not to be taken, “Yes, we’ve established that quite a number of times now, go on.”. He gave her his own version of ‘if looks could kill’, but quite frankly it looked and felt mostly like he was holding back tears.

With a sudden wave of newfound courage, he straightened his spine and proclaimed loudly:“Me and my Darkbringers should be allowed more frequently into Velaris.”

“Mmmh...”, another sip of wine, “And why is that? Don’t you have the sun and the night sky here as well? You simply have to crawl your way like the worm you are, Keir, to find them waiting for you.”

The Steward froze in place, shame colouring his features as he passed such a great number of shades of pink and red. She took the time to scout the room with her eyes.

She knew that everyone was staring at them, concern written on some faces, pure terror on others. A few held disgust, whether towards her of the poor excuse of a male in front of her she couldn’t tell.

“Do you agree with him?” she asked to the crowd. Murmurs began to fill the room, male soldiers nodding eagerly as the females remained more distant to the topic, dutiful as always. Submissive as always.

That was what truly irritated her of this place, more than the depravity and corruption. The state of borderline slavery the females of this Hellhole were subjected to. The Illyrians were slowly getting around to it, incorporating them into training activities and letting them have more and more control over their own lives, partially because, if the camp lords didn’t behave, her oldest sister would wipe them off the spot completely.

But they weren’t. They kept on mistreating them and using them and it made her stomach turn. To allow them more time in Velaris...

Suddenly, a plan began creating itself in her mind. Curiosity brushed her mental walls, and she let her mate in, cautious and asking for permission.

‘You’re the High Lady, Feyre Darling,’ he purred into her mind, ‘you don’t ask permission to anybody. By all means, do as you please. I will be here, sulking over how I hadn’t thought of this before.”

She couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his answer, scaring even more the already trembling high Faes in front of her.

“Of course you do!” she said, both to the crowd and her mate. Azriel lifted a brow in her direction, a silent question, and she merely sent him the full image of her plan. He nodded once, the corners of his mouth lifting just barely. That was all she needed, before she shot another fiery question to the Faes below her, “Have you brought your females so far?”

Puzzled look replaced the optimistic ones that her previous question had created, and no one dared speaking, not even a murmur this time.

“C’mon” she nuzzled them, encouraging them to reveal themselves as monsters and to give her all the leverage she needed, “I promise I won’t bite.” she said, while barring her teeth and making sure the light reflected from her shiny fangs, sharp enough to easily bite pieces of muscle.

“If nobody answers, then I must assume that the females of this Court have never seen Velaris.” she said while reclining back on her throne, before burying her gaze onto the closest Fae. The young male paled immediately and bowed deeply as she motioned for him to fill her cup once more. “Tell me, how many times have the Darkbringers been to my city?” her voice sounded bored, nonchalant and even, although rage was boiling inside of her veins at her pre-existent knowledge of the answer. Those three days had been the hardest since the war, for her family and the whole city. “Three, milady.” he said quickly, trying to hide poorly the shakiness of his voice as he filled her cup.

“And they have never brought a single female with them?”, again, she knew the answer, but all this was to fortify her show.

The poor Fae simply nodded, before he was dismissed from his positioning and all but sprinted down the obsidian dais, pure primal fear drenching his scent.

Taking a sip of her wine, she turned once again towards Keir, who was still kneeling on the hard ground with Azriel behind him. She smiled at the scene. “I don’t think those were the accords, dear Keir. What did we agree on, Azriel?” she asked to the shadowsinger, who regarded her with something akin pride in his eyes.

“That anyone who wishes to leave the Hewn City for a chosen day, every trimester, can do so freely, except for the Steward, who has to remain to protect the Court.” He finished, the edge on his voice so sharp it could slash a throat in one effortless motion.

“Indeed.” she put down her cup, clasping both hands on her lap, “So, first of all, you knew the amount of time you were given. Quite frankly, if you had something to say, you should’ve done so back then, when we were still negotiating.” She couldn’t help feel like a teacher scolding a small child, stubborn and that still hadn’t fully learnt the meaning of a negotiation. “Me and your High Lord, along with Morrigan, Commander Cassian and Amren, settled down with an agreement with you several months ago, when our duties allowed us to make time for such an important decision.”

Truth to be told, they delayed the meeting for as long as possible, but Keir and his army were growing impatient. Mor suggested one visit a year, not on holidays or festivities, but realistically it was too little: they had indeed held on their end of the bargain by fighting alongside the Illyrians and the other courts in the war against Hybern. Surprisingly enough, it was Cassian who had the most brilliant idea: four times a year, once every three months and Keir only once a year, to ‘keep the fort protected’ he had said with a wicked smile on his lips. Keir had complained and proposed once a month, but Rhys was adamant; two days after the meeting, the Hewn City sent a letter, agreeing to their conditions, and the deed was done.

“With all due respect, Milady, we were not given much choice.” said the Steward in a pleading tone. His leg must’ve been sore and hurting like crazy, but she still wouldn’t let him up, not yet anyway.

Smiling viciously at him, she replied :“Would you rather we retort back to our original idea? Once a year?”. The crowd murmured and nodded their dissent eagerly. “Of course not, Milady. Yours was a generous offer...”

“I was not finished.” she cut him off abruptly, sending cold air in his direction to increase his discomfort, avoiding purposely the spymaster. “Or we could simply terminate the contract right now, since one side isn’t fond of its reward. After all, even with all your help, it was mostly the Illyrian cavalry that helped us win the war before it reached land.” She spoke freely, choosing her words to hurt them most, in their pride. She continued sweetly :“After all, we never specified how long this agreement stood for.”

Delight in the baffled looks that were thrown at her by stunned creatures, she leaned back on her throne and held the cup once more in the clutches, drinking the dark liquid while scanning the room with a predatory gaze.

Keir cleared his throat, once, before whispering :“We do not wish to revise the bargain.” A little was better than nothing, after all.

She had heard him easily, as had every Fae in the room, but she still nudged him to speak a little louder, blaming her former human ears. She knew it drove him mad, truly, knowing that the High Lord of the Night Court had chosen a born human, made High Fae female as his bride, instead of one of the girls that was conceived and raised in that Cauldron Forgotten place with the sole purpose of marrying high up on the social system and play Lady of the House, as Tamlin had once tried to reduce her. It also enraged him to no end knowing that she was his High Lady, meaning that she had full control on him and the Court he supervised.

‘Not bad for a once lowly human, uh?’ her mate asked down the bond. ‘At least he is smart enough not to complain about it much. It would be a burden to train another puppy like you did him.’ came her reply, which was met by a dark chuckle and a soft whisper of love.

After having repeated his statement, much louder than he was comfortable, admitting his defeat, Keir relaxed momentarily, believing that the worst was over. But he was wrong: he was in the eye of the hurricane, the calm before the actual storm.

“Now that one issue is over, let’s go back a little, shall we?”. ‘Poor Keir’ she thought to Azriel, ‘He has probably never been through so many emotions in one sitting’.

The spymaster grinned at her and shook his head a little, his amusement filling her mind.

‘I don’t like that you have another male’s thoughts into your head.’ her mate told her, ‘Territorial Fae Prick.’ came her reply.

‘You wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.’

“You said it before, that your females weren’t with you during those visits. Am I wrong?” she asked, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“No, Milady.” The older Fae cowered, bowing his head trying to his the tremor of his limbs.

“And didn’t we agree on sending whoever wanted to be in Velaris, without restraints?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“So, what’s up with that? Why didn’t you girls come?” she asked the whole room, now, moving her eyes to the females in question.

“They choose not to, mil...” tried to answer for them Keir.

She blocked his mouth from moving, open on one of the vowels of the title, “I wasn’t referring to you, Keir. Keep that tongue in place or I’ll remove it.” He knew her treats were not empty, so he stopped immediately, fear in his eyes.

Her gaze landed on a female in the middle of the room, busy looking at the ground with a pincher in hand. Probably for the husband she was forced to marry.

She beckoned her to move closer and answer her question; after a moment of uncertainty and a glare from the male next to her, she did. “We all choose not to, milady.” she said while doing an exemplar curtsy.

She felt for her, sorrow and pain at her situation, one the now powerful High Lady could’ve easily been trapped in, were not for her dark prince, coming to the rescue. But, although her emotions were rather soft for this female, her stern mask didn’t come off. “Don’t lie to me. We don’t like liars. Tell her, Keir” and with a soft twirl of her fingers she made the male crumble down on the cold stone, holding his injured leg close to his chest.

The poor female jumped back scared, but stood her position.

“Why don’t you try again. This time, I want the full truth.”

Nodding, she replied, her voice thick with emotion :“We wanted to, but our duties and our families suggested we stayed behind.”

Her face softened and smile became welcoming as she thanked the female. ‘Make sure no harm is done to her for her words.’ she told Azriel, who dissolved in his shadows to follow her order.

“Well, then.” She stood up from her throne, “I will settle this once and for all. No one of you gets more trips to Velaris, the ones already agreed upon are sufficient and enough.”

The room collectively breathed in relief, sighing at the somewhat positive news.

“But...” her smile turned wicked once more and it almost felt like her Winter ice had frozen the crowd, “if I find out that you’re refusing your females from participating to those visits...” her icy glare ran over the shocked faces of the Faes below her, “you will all see our warm invite denied. For eternity.”

And with that, she disappeared into darkness, the room exploding in outraged and scared cries as she winnowed upstairs, on her and her mate’s other residence. Memories of a different lifetime washed over her as she patiently waited for her spymaster to reach her in the designated meeting point, from where they would’ve flown back to Velaris.

A soft stroke of love and pride washed over her. ‘You are amazing.’

She shrugged, ‘You would’ve done the same. Except for my exit. That was pretty amazing’

‘I gotta concede you that, Feyre Darling. But you had a great teacher.’. She could see his annoying smirk, felt that it was plastered on his soft lips.

Her own parted in a genuine smile, such a contrast between her previous mask, quickly discarded. ‘The best when it comes to being dramatic.’

‘You wound me so, my beloved!’

Both sides of the bond remained silent, each other content of their mate’s presence in their minds.

‘When are you coming back home?’ she asked eventually.

‘Tonight. We’ve been apart for too long.’ She felt the hunger in his voice, the longing.

‘Good.’

But it wouldn’t do to end all the fun so suddenly, and so she added :‘Because if you don’t then I might have to ask Azriel to stay in my mind a little bit longer.’

Her laugh resonated all the way to the center of the mountain as her mate’s territorial growl filled her head, before feeling him open his wings and fly high in the sky, towards her as quickly as he could.

30 notes · View notes

ourownsideimagines · 5 years

Text

At the Center of Conflict, You are Our Light (Crowley x NB!Phoenix!Reader x Aziraphale)

Characters: Phoenix!Reader (Non Binary), Crowley, Aziraphale

Requested: Yes

Requested by: @enoughofabastard

Point of View: Third Person Limited

Warnings: A N G S T

Words: 1514

A/N: I decided to add a little bit of fun and make the reader a phoenix, you’ll see why. Also, I was writing a fem!Reader at the same time so if I used any gendered pronouns by accident please let me know so I can fix it!

---

(Name)’s tears had stopped falling hours ago. As they sat in the dank, dark room, all they could think about was a hot shower, a fresh change of clothes, and their boys (not entirely in that order, or in the same amount). They wondered how long the demons would keep them down here, before concluding that it would probably be for the rest of their life, and all those that followed.

Their gift had suddenly become a curse, and for the first time in their lives, they no longer wanted to be a phoenix.

To understand how they got here, it’s best to start at the beginning.

(Name) had met Aziraphale first, having come to his shop many times. They had realized early into their friendship that there was something not quite human about him, but couldn’t quite put their finger on it. That was, until one day, (name) had been at the bookshop having some tea when a group of tall, tough looking men came in and not-so-subtly threatened their friend.

(Name) had been prepared to jump into action, had it not been for Az’s own handling of the situation. As he stood there, politely speaking to the men, (name) saw a shadow in the dim store light - a set of invisible wings sprouting from Az’s back until they had become fully stretched out. And then, like nothing had happened, the men had left and (name)’s friend rejoined them at the table. (Name) spent a full week building up the nerve to tell their friend that they know, and that they also had a secret.

That had been almost twenty five years ago. They’d been working with him at the bookshop ever since, Aziraphale not aging and (name) doing so at a slow pace. They hadn’t even started getting grey hairs when they finally met Crowley ((name) didn’t know if they could even grow grey hair). They’d taken a liking to him quickly, much to Aziraphale’s dismay. The two got along like peas in a pod, and Aziraphale would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little jealous. That had been thirteen years ago, two years before the beginning of what was meant to be the end.

(Name) had been there when Crowley called to tell them about the Antichrist, and they’d been there when their two best friends got drunk off their tits.

(Name) agreed to keep the bookshop while Crowley and Aziraphale helped to raise Warlock, the supposed Antichrist who turned out to just be a normal, human child. They sat idly, falling in love with both parties when and if they came around, and wondered if either of them might have felt the same about them.

Eternity was starting to get lonely, and they wanted someone (or some ones) to spend the rest of their lives with. With the way things were looking though, it seemed they would be spending eternity truly, deeply, undoubtedly alone.

Shortly after the supposed end of the world, Crowley had kindly invited Aziraphale and (name) to say at his place, since the bookshop had burned down. When morning came, (name) knew there was something off about their friends, but thought better than to question it. They’d returned to the newly restored bookshop with Aziraphale and agreed to watch over the shop when he needed to pop out.

That might have been their first mistake.

Because alone in that shop, they usually listened to their music, and the volume they put it at left them with little ability to hear anything happening, including a group of demons gathering behind them before hitting them over the head with… well, they didn’t know what, just that it really hurt.

It didn’t matter much now, what it was they used. What mattered now was that they were stuck is some kind of… purgatory. A dimly lit, paint-peeling room with no doors, or windows, and some kind of thick, greenish-brown sludge living on the walls. When they’d first woke up, they assumed it was all some kind of dream, but soon came to realize that it was all too real when they found a single scrap of paper on the center of the room.

It read ‘They get death. You get much worse.’

If someone asked (name) if they regret ever getting to know Aziraphale and Crowley, even now in their current situation, they would always say no. No, they didn’t think they could ever regret it. In fact, they wish they could have met the boys sooner. Maybe then they would have figured out faster the love they felt. If someone had told them, during one of their first lives, that they would end up falling in love with two 6000 year old Angels - one fallen - they would have laughed.

Now, at the idea of them being gone - of them being really, truly gone - all (name) could do was weep until there were no more tears left, for themself and for their boys. They would give anything now to see them again - they would give up eternity to see Aziraphale smile, or the glint of trouble in Crowley’s eyes.

Slowly, (name) began curling up on the cold ground. They though, maybe, if they just burst into flames then and there that the Lord might have mercy and let them die. Maybe, they would be free. (Name) wasn’t entirely sure how long they’d been there. It could have been hours. Or days. Maybe even minutes. However long it was though, it was driving them absolutely insane.

Maybe it was the aura of the place, they thought. Maybe it was designed that way. There wasn’t a doubt in (name)’s mind that hell would be capable of such torture.

The note was right. This was much worse.

“(Name).” They shot up, glancing around the room for the source of the voice. It seemed to come at them from all sides. It called to them again, and despite their original thought they felt tears once again rolling down their cheeks.

“Crowley?” They croaked, stumbling to their feet. Another voice called out, almost in relief. “Aziraphale!?” Then, they thought better of it. Perhaps this was another part of their punishment. “Oh god, please let it really be you.” They sobbed. “Please, please, please.”

There was some muffled talking, of which they could understand very few words. Then, from the ceiling, came a hand, followed by an arm dressed in black. They cried out in relief when a head of fiery red hair popped in.

“C’mon, we can’t hold this open long!” Crowley shouted, and (name) rushed forward, grabbing Crowley’s hand and allowing him to pull them up and out of their personal doom.

They landed, with a grunt, on top of the demon, as a murky portal closed behind them, leaving the three alone in the bookshop. Aziraphale looked a bit winded, hands pressed to his knees as he gazed down at the two.

“Oh, thank the Almighty.” He breathed out, falling down beside (name) before pulling both of them into a hug, of which the demon was happy to return, and the phoenix even more so.

They sat there like that, hugging, and crying until they had all calmed down.

“How did you find me?” (Name) asked them as the boys helped them to the couch.

“Well,” Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Let’s just say that we have our ways.” Aziraphale finished, gently brushing some of (name)’s hair with his fingers.

“Where… where was I?”

“So, uh, hell had these… what would you call them, Angel?”

“Pocket dimensions?”

“Yeah, let's call them that. Hell has these pocket dimensions they usually use for torture. They stopped using them a couple hundred years ago when they realized doing the torture in front of a croud was much more… satisfying.” The idea made all three of them grimace. Crowley finally sat down, efficiently squishing (name) between himself and Aziraphale.

“I thought you two were dead.” They told their companions quietly, “They left me a note. It told me that your punishment was death, but mine was worse.” They clench their fists tightly. “How long was I down there?”

“Well, it took us about… half a day to find you. And assuming that you were taken at the same time we were, that would add another couple of hours.”

“It felt like… days.” They sighed, leaning their head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I felt so… alone.” Crowley took their hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze.

“They can’t hurt you now, (name).” Crowley promised. “We’ll make sure of that.”

“How about some lunch?” Aziraphale suggests. “That table at the Ritz is still open.”

“I’m game, if you are love.” Crowley looked down at them. (Name) thought for a moment before nodding.

“But I need a shower first.” They said. “I feel disgusting.”

“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale nodded.

“We’ll stop by my place on the way.” Crowley offered.

“What are we waiting for, then?” (Name) gave them a shaky smile. “Let’s go.”

#good omens #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #crowley x reader good omens #anthony j crowley #crowley good omens #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader x aziraphale #x reader #reader insert #NB!Reader #Non-Binary reader #non binary #my writing #reese writes #the ineffable queue

431 notes · View notes

twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years

Text

Re-Watch of 4x15: Us by @wdway

Today’s post is a rewatch of 4x15 done by @wdway. So this is a discussion between her, me and frangipanilove. Hope you guys enjoy it!

@wdway:

Here you go ladies, s4e15 Us, series number 50.

Eugene and Tara walking on the tracks, Eugene comments about foil and bleach making a homemade battery. Nothing new here but I felt with all the batteries that we see in this episode I just wanted to note it.

There's only one scene with Rick Michonne. There is something that Rick said here I wanted to point out. He mentions that "we have a day's worth of water left." Nothing particularly odd about that but it sets a tie to Rick and water=Beth.

In watching especially Abe & company I was struck by the fact that this episode really emphasizes the passage of time between the prison escape and this episode. The trees are in full fall colors and everyone is wearing heavier clothes.

There are several number 3 mentions of this episode. The first one was Joe when he talks about loving cats since he was 3. Then we have Rosita’s mention of 3 left turns. Eugene mentions 3 when he says that Maggie's group would be walking at 3 miles per hour. I count 3 mentions of the number 3.

Now for what I noticed, and this happens early on before the opening credits. Glenn and company find a Terminus sign that Maggie has written on. He takes off running and this is what I want to show you.

I cropped it to emphasize what I want you to see, and maybe this has been talked about before, but it really struck me when I saw it. There between Glenn and Tara you see a "W" sign. We have talked so much about the one that is so prominent behind Daryl but have we really talked about this one?

We always have associated it with the Wolves, which I think is true. This time watching though, I had a different reaction to seeing it and what it could foreshadow. We see Glenn running when he passes it in search of Maggie. I think that's important for the reason that he finds her within this episode (it happens quickly).

This particular, first "W," I truly believe represents the wolves and the story line for it comes into play for Glenn in s6A when the wolves invade AZ and Glenn has his death fake out. It ends happily though with his second reunion with Maggie.

I'm sure you both have realized where I'm about to go with Daryl and the "W." I believe this W stands for Whisperers.

And before I say anything else, I want to point out that in the shot of Glenn running Tara is also there but Tara is standing still, she was present for both the W's the Wolves and the Whisperers.

Back to Daryl and how we see him on the railroad tracks. He's just gone under a bridge. He is slowly walking with the "W" staying in the frame for quite a while. His "W" represents both the Wolves but especially the Whisperers. His journey will be much slower and much longer.

Daryl and Joe exchange cat stories with the "W" lingering in the background for so very, very long. They then moved into the garage and we have discussed this garage many times. I thought that we had found everything that could be found and yet…

This is where Lenny accuses Daryl of stealing his half of the rabbit. It's the truck in the background I want you to look at. I talked about this truck just last week, asking if the type of truck was the same type of truck that Denise rode in on her last day.

Looking at the scene just a few hours ago when I was getting a different shot, what occurred to me is this truck’s back tailgate is down. Would that not be the equivalent of a trunk being open? And notice the blue on the inside of the truck bed. Just as a reminder, earlier in the episode when they first arrived at the garage, we could clearly see the license tag that is the same as the tag of the car Beth was taken away in.

This is a wonderful shot of the Lincoln Continental. That's was the same type of vehicle that Daryl and Beth hid in the trunk in Still. This time though, I notice how the door is standing open. It reminded me of the Grady police car when they were kidnapping the officers for the exchange. The driver's car door was left open.

That car also had the same tag as the truck and as the vehicle that took Beth away. This car does not have the trunk open. You can barely see it but to the far left, the tarp has been pulled off because it had been covered/ hidden. if you look through the window, there is something leaning against the wall that could possibly be a trunk cover that had been taken off, but I do not know that for a fact.

Ever so slightly out of view in the shot to the left, just past the car, is a red fire extinguisher. We see it several times during the scene of Daryl with it in the. I love how all these things tie together to symbolically represent Beth. I feel it’s very important after seeing the "W".

Daryl's trash bag is something that's been discussed an awful lot. A question though: have we ever talked about the red object just above the AMC logo? Do we know what it is, other than a red symbol? Because I do have a theory of what it could be. I used to have something similar. When I was a little girl, I had a drinking glass but it was made of plastic and it folded down with a closed top. You opened it and raised different plastic folds up and it made a drinking glass.

We get to see the "W" sign before Daryl enters the garage and just as he leaves. Just as with Glenn, he was searching for and eventually found Maggie. I think the "W" also represents that Daryl will search much longer but he will eventually find Beth.

We see 2 happy reunions between Glenn and Maggie, one in this episode then one at AZ after the wolf attack. The 3rd reunion is with the Saviors in the open field when they are brought together (6x16). That reunion was not a happy one as it ended with Glenn's death.

Daryl and Beth had a reunion at Grady but it ended sadly. We do not know if there was another reunion, a second one that we just haven't seen, but eventually I think a 3rd reunion will be their final reunion and will be a happy one. Maybe that's what the 3's represent.

I hope you found something interesting about this. Nothing earth-shattering. We've talked about this episode so many times. It's so different to watch these early episodes when we're at the end of S10 and have figured out a lot of the symbols that we were clueless about in earlier seasons.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

I really liked your discussion of the Ws. I’m not sure we have talked about the one behind Glenn before. I don’t know that I’ve ever noticed it. If I did, I think I just subconsciously decided it was the same one near Daryl or something. I’ll have to think about this more, but I totally agree with your interpretation about Wolves and Whisperers. I also like your discussion of the truck and the Lincoln. All of this just backs up the idea that S4 was one big foreshadow. So, I was thinking that the Lincoln obviously represents Beth and the truck, Denise. And Daryl lost them both in some way. But what does this scene lead to? It leads to Lenny’s death, right? So, I have two possible thoughts on what that sequence might foreshadow. On the one hand, Lennie is something of a foil to Daryl. He’s a jerk, possibly a sexual predator (his “little ‘uns” comment) and quite frankly, a punk and a douchebag.

And while Daryl has a history (in earlier seasons) of getting in people’s faces, we all know that at heart he’s none of those things. So I wonder if Lennie’s death represents Daryl “killing” the negative side of him emotionally. In fact, it’s not until after Lennie dies and we learn that Daryl was going to leave the Claimers that he finds Rick and Michonne again. So not until after he makes emotionally positive choices does he get the reunion. In terms of it being paid off, we’ve seen him not only being depressed in past seasons but in S8 he was pretty homicidal, killing people right and left. Now, he’s parenting Lydia and taking on leadership, so we’ve seen him shed that negative emotional side of himself. So, just another way of saying that the “reunion” is right on top of us. The other option I’m seeing is that Lenny May be a foreshadow of Beta. There’s the rape angle again (the Whisperers have a rape culture in the CBs), the fact that Beta and Daryl have had personal conflicts with one another, and we’ve definitely seen ways in which they’ve made Beta a foil to Daryl.

So maybe Lennie represents Daryl finally killing Beta and as you said, there’s a W in the background. So maybe after Beta’s death or perhaps in conjunction with it, we’ll see Daryl’s reunion with Beth. Anyway, those are my stray thoughts. Really love your rewatch!

@frangipanilove:

I enjoyed reading your rewatch summaries! I looked into the car from the Denise scene, and I don’t think it’s the same car. But in my opinion, that doesn’t really make the comparison any less interesting. The cars look similar, and there was so much symbolism in the Denise scene that ties it to Beth. For instance, they had to stop because of a tree blocking the road and there was alcohol etc. I loved your take on the open tailgate on the truck from “us”. Totally agree, it counts as an open trunk. There’s a lot of symbolism hidden in plain sight in that garage scene from “Us”.

I’m also intrigued with the discussion of Lennie as a Daryl foil. Foil means “sort of same, but opposite” right? I remember Daryl getting drunk on Southern Comfort in S1. And in s4 we get Lennie who wears a jacket with the text “Southern Discomfort” and the Confederate flag on his back. I don’t have an elaborate analysis on it, but it’s something that always stood out to me. It seemed intentional.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Yes, @Frangi, foil basically means opposite but with specific touch point similarities. And the traits in one emphasize the opposite traits in another. So, we talked about this with Beth and Alpha. Obviously, Beth is good and Alpha is evil, and that’s how they’re opposites. But Alpha is opposite in that way to all good characters (Rick, Michonne, Daryl, etc). But we saw specific similarities between her and Beth, such as an emphasis on child and baby care. The way in which Alpha was abusive and, you know, left babies in the field to be walker chow, emphasized Beth’s goodness, protectiveness and nurturing nature. So while Alpha is the opposite to other characters, she’s a foil to Beth. They put in similarities between Daryl and Lennie and Daryl and Beta, even though in each case one is good and one is evil. Sort of like anti-parallels. That’s what makes them foils.

Hope you all found some value in this discussion. These rewatches don’t always yield super-groundbreaking stuff, but it’s fun not go back and see how these symbols have been there all along. It just reinforces that our current theories are on the right track.

Thanks to @wdway for doing the re-watch for us!

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

6 notes · View notes

rainy-autumn-day · 5 years

Text

Dreaming A Horror Story By Samatha Evergreen

Rated PG13. 3K word count

Anything can be a dream until it isn’t….Right?

Anything can be a dream until it isn’t.

Lilith awoke with a pounding headache that made her want to go back to sleep to get away from the pain, but the world seemed to have another plan as the sun from the curtains hit her eyes with its full brightness.

She let out a long breath of annoyance and covered her head with a pillow but knew there was nothing she could do. Today was, of course, a workday meaning, she needed to get up and just like everyone else go to work at her retail job until the clock hit seven and she was allowed to leave, go back home, eat a depressing meal of fast food and go back to sleep and start it all over again until the weekend.

She threw the pillow back down and swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up.

She went into the bathroom and turned the water on for the shower, the steam fogging up the mirror. Lilith wiped it away and looked at herself, her eyes were ringed with deep dark purple bags, her hair stringy.

For a moment she just stood there looking at herself before a flash of red caught her attention. She looked behind herself but saw nothing. Shaking her head she let out a high laugh as she ran a hand through her hair, god she really needed her coffee.

She got into the shower and let the warm water wash that image of her own imagination from her mind’s eye.

She let her eyes close as she turned the water off and stepped out knowing she had stayed in far too long then she should have.

Lilith raced through the rest of her morning routine drinking a full 12-ounce cup of coffee in one go as she grabbed her bag and ran out of her apartment door and turned towards the hall and walked right into a guy.

She was knocked back a step but thankfully regained her balance and looked up to see a man, but instead of saying sorry he simply kept walking like he hadn’t almost just sent her flying across the hall.

“Asshole!” Lilith shouted after him as he kept going not even bothering to look at her. Instead, he looked at the flickering light that had just started.

"Really?“ Lilith said rolling her eyes as he shook his head and kept walking, she didn’t have the time to go after him and tell him off like she so wish she could have.

She stepped outside and found the world gray and rainy and she had to blink, it had just been pretty sunny when she had woken up but now it was a deep gray that meant only one thing, a storm.

A sharp breeze hit her then and snapped her back to reality from where she had been staring at the sky, god of she didn’t need the money she would just hop back in bed this day seemed to weird already but what could she do?

She made a run for her car that sat a little ways off from the building and luckily made it in with being only lightly misted.

Thankfully it was only a ten-minute drive to work meaning even if she was late, it wasn’t that bad and luckily even with rain it was a pretty smooth drive and she made it just as the clock hit 7: 30 and clocked in.

Haha, Kelly wouldn’t be able to bitch at her now.

Lilith walked over to her register ready to help the ever-growing line of customers, all ready to check out.

"Sorry for the wait,” Lilith said looking up at them with a smile, they seemed not to see it of course as they simply glared right through her. “Okay…..” Lilith said under her breath as she punched in her employ code to unlock the register but an error message popped up.

“CODE INVALID”

“What the hell?” Lilith said hitting the backspace and retyped it in but again the message popped up.

"I-I’m sorry,“ Lilith said looking up at awaiting customers, "I don’t know what’s going on with this regist-” her words were cut off suddenly by a familiar too cheerful voice.

Lilith turned and saw Kelly walking over to them.

Lilith watched her type in her code and it unlocked with a ding.

"Kelly what’s going on with my code? Why isn’t it working?“ Lilith asked looking from the register to Kelly but she said nothing as she started to ring up the first person.

"Kelly?” Lilith said waving her hand in front of the other women’s sees but she didn’t even react to it. “So what? I’m fired? Lilith asked thinking that was the only reason her code wasn’t working anymore and Kelly wasn’t responding to her given she had always hated conflict.

"Come on Kelly we’re both big girls you can just tell me if I’m fired I won’t be mad.”

Well, she would since she just wasted gas to get here but she wouldn’t take it out on Kelly.

But she only went on scanning thing after thing making small talk with the customers and it was starting to freak her out.

Lilith reached out a hand to grab Kelly and make her look at her but her hand simply went through her like a light in the mist.

Kelly’s shiver was her only reaction and Lilith stumbled back her eyes going wide and her heart pounding in her ears. “What the hell!” she said out loud looking down at her hand with fear.

For a moment she just looked at her own hand, it seemed perfectly fine to her.

Lilith let out a shuttering breath as she went around the counter and reached out once again to touch an old lady but was stopped by a voice.

"What are you doing?“

Lilith looked down to see a little girl, no more than five or six standing next to her looking up at her with bright green eyes, her red raincoat bright even in the light.

"You can see me?” Lilith asked on the verge of a panic attack now, her breath wheezing out of her lungs.

The little girl tipped her head to one side with a sweet smile. “Of course I can silly, you can see me after all.”

"Why are you the only one?“ Lilith asked.

"Why do you believe I would know?” The little girl asked right back.

"This isn’t happening,“ Lilith said turning away from her and rubbed at her head which gave a painful ache.

She closed her eyes as she talked to herself under her breath, "This isn’t happening, this isn’t real. I’m still in bed asleep right now and I’m going to wake up any minute now and I’m going to laugh about this as I drink my coffee and get to work late.” Kelly bitch at her and she would take it happily.

"What are you talking about?“ The little girl asked tugging on the hem of her t-shirt.

Lilith opened her eyes and looked down at her. "What is happening?” Lilith asked, her voice shaking.

The little girl just looked at her with innocent eyes and after a moment of it she pulled away from the girl and started for the front doors. She weaved through the crowd, not caring if she knocked into someone because they didn’t even take notice.

Lilith pulled out her keys as she stepped outside not giving two craps about the rain now. It was the least of her problems.

"Where are you going!?“ she heard the little girl call after her.

"Home!” Lilith shouted back clicking the unlock button and opened the car’s door before getting in and closed it after herself.

Lilith struggled with her keys a moment before jamming the key into the slot and started the engine.

She looked behind herself to pull out but ended up letting out a scream instead.

"Why are you screaming?“ the same little girl from the store asked from where she sat in the back.

"How the hell did you get in my car!” Lilith asked.

The girl just looked at her as if she had just asked why it was raining instead of it being sunny.

"Because I want to go with you, your the only one who talks to me.“

Lilith just stared at her for a second but shook her head, she didn’t have time to deal with this.

"Whatever,” Lilith said and pulled out of the parking lot and turned on to the street.

"Why are you going back to your apartment?“ the little girl asked.

"I’m not,” Lilith answered, “I’m going to see my family. My mom lives fifteenth minutes away. She’ll know what to do, she always does.”

"Why do you think she’ll see you when no one else can?“ the little girl asked.

Lilith swallowed, her body going cold at the idea that no one would see her, hear her. But no. Her mom would know what to do. She would help her.

"She will… she’ll fix this,” Lilith said as her head gave a painful ache again.

The girl said nothing and the car filled with silence and stayed that way for a good few minutes before Lilith finally had to fill it. “What’s your name?

"Az,” the little girl said as she watched out the window as the rain kept falling.

"Does that mean something?“ Lilith asked as she turned into her mom’s driveway.

"It may.”

"What?“ Lilith asked as she grabbed her bag and opened her door before getting out.

"You’ll find out soon,” the little girl said as Lilith turned around and jumped as she found the girl standing behind her.

Lilith made a face at her vague answer but as she looked up it disappeared from her thoughts as she saw the front door of her mom’s house standing wide open.

"What the…?“ Lilith said sidestepping the girl and started running up the drive, but she slowed as she reached the door.

The rain had gotten harder, turning the world misty in the sheets of rain that hit them, but Lilith didn’t feel it as she stepped through the same white door she had grown up with and stopped in her tracks as she looked across the living room.

There were people standing around that she hadn’t seen in years, Aunt May, Uncle Dave who she hadn’t seen since she was six. Rylee Ross and Steven Norm from high school. June and Jason the twins she used to babysit when she was fourteen and hadn’t seen in over thirteen years.

The mood seemed dim and heavy even in the fully lit room, everyone was wearing black and gray clothes and Lilith felt her heart drop. Was her mom hurt? Now that Lilith thought about it she couldn’t remember the last time she had called and spoke to her …or even seen her.

Lilith felt her stomach drop to her knees as she walked further into the room and stopped next to her Aunt. "Where’s mama?” Lilith asked her voice breaking.

Her Aunt said nothing and only looked through her, the older woman’s eyes pained before she turned away and looked up at her Uncle Dave. “We really must get going, there’s nothing more for us to do here for them.”

Lilith stepped aside for them and watched as they started for the front door pulling out umbrellas and popped them open and Lilith followed after them.

"Why do you want to see where they’re going?“

At this point, Lilith wasn’t surprised when she heard Az behind her.

"Because I just need to,” Lilith said not sure she really wanted too but it was like something was pulling her.

She stepped back outside with her family and friends and stopped dead as they started for the line of cars parked on the sidewalk.

"What the hell!“ Lilith said out loud and of course, no one even looked her way as she stared at the spot where her car had been parked that now lay empty.

"Well, you could always join your friends, there seems to be a seat left.”

With every part of her body cold Lilith looked back and saw that yes, there was a seat left next to her old high school crush Steven Norm.

She closed her eyes a moment as she let out a shaking breath before she turned and made it in right as the door was closing.

She looked up and saw Az standing in front of the door as it closed slowly.

"What are you going to do?“ Lilith asked.

"I’ll see you there,” Az said.

Lilith looked her at until the door shut and the car started to pull away and before they turned the corner she looked back and saw that Az was gone.

The ride was quiet, almost cold with the mood. The only sound in the car was the rain hitting the car and as she looked out the window she wondered where they were going.

She watched the clock tick away watching the gray sky, her heart pounding in her ears. Could it have something to do with her mom? The sinking feeling told her it wasn’t good.

Finally, they pulled into the place she had prayed it wasn’t. The kindly cemetery.

“No,” Lilith breathed as everyone started to get out “No, this isn’t happening.”

She got out slowly and swallowed the fear down as she followed after Uncle Dave.

They walked through the maze of gravestones weaving around them as if they were trying to find the center of the maze that she felt held something she didn’t want to find.

Lilith felt her heartbeat pick up as she looked up to see a row of chairs sitting in front of an open casket. People milled around the line of white folded out chairs, they were all dressed in black. The feeling of grief heavy in the rainy wet air. “Oh God,” Lilith breathed as she got closer and saw faces she knew. New and old friends, more family she hadn’t seen in years.

Her body felt cold as she looked around panicked, where was her mother!

“Who are you looking for?”

Lilith froze for a moment before she turned and found Az smiling up at her.

"How did you get here?“ Lilith asked anger lacing her words, "How did you get here?! What are you?!”

The girl only kept smiling up at her before her eyes drifted away to look at something behind her. “Is that the woman you were looking for?”

Lilith turned around and felt her heart lift, her mother stood in the front row of the chairs looking lost as she stared blankly at the gray sky her eyes almost empty.

"Mom!“ Lilith said breathlessly as she ran over to her, and stopped. She reached out a hand but stopped herself, scared of what would happen.

"Mom look at me.”

For a moment her mom looked up at her and Lilith felt hope go through her body before her mom looked back down and walked right through her like a ghost.

Lilith stood there a moment feeling as if she had just been cut in half, her head once again giving a painful throb something wet started to ran down the side of her head but it was nothing to the pain that went through her chest, her heart.

"That’s not what you wanted was it?“

Lilith stood there a moment hugging herself as her whole body went numb as she looked down her head killing her now as she turned on the girl.

"What are you?!” Lilith hissed.

The girl tipped her head to the side, a wicked smile across her face. “That looks like that hurts,” the girl said before looking towards the casket.

Lilith shook her head, a freezing feeling running through her now as she let the fear that she had been keeping down ran free. “No.”

“Go on,” the girl said, “Don’t you want to know why everyone is here? I’m sure you already have an idea.”

"Go to hell,“ Lilith said shouting Az down.

The girl said nothing only looked away and towards the casket, the rain getting heavier. The mist turned to droplets that sounded all around her, hitting the grass and gravestones.

Lilith turned to look at the black box as her family and friends went to stand under the covering over the chairs.

"Go on now.”

Lilith swallowed as she took a step towards the casket, her head pounding harder and harder as she got closer. The rain seemed to pass through her, her feet didn’t seem to make a sound as she got closer and closer. She stumbled over her feet as her world started to blur either from the rain or the tears that had started to fall.

She reached the casket after want felt like hours and looked down as the rain dripped off the seer silk blackness, but she didn’t see her reflection. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the stone that lay in front of her.

Her stomach fell as she saw her name

Lilith Allison

1993-2019

Lilith felt the air from her lungs leave her and her legs gave out. She fell to the damp grass. “What happened?” Lilith asked her head killing her now.

"I’m sorry,“ Az said moving to stand next to her.

Lilith looked up, but found the girl gone.

Lilith looked around herself her eyes wide and found she was alone. "Hello!” Lilith called out as she pushed herself up from the ground turning around. The world was empty.

Suddenly thunder boomed from somewhere above her. Lilith looked up and saw a flash of light before everything when dark.

Lilith opened her eyes with a start as she sat up and looked around herself to find she was back in her bedroom.

Lilith let out a breath, the dream still rattling around in her head. She jumped up and ran out of her room and through the living room and opened her door to the hallway. She sucked in a breath and ran down it wanting to see the world outside until she ran into something that knocked her off balance and she had to catch herself on the wall to not fall on her face.

"Sorry about that,“ a man said, he reached out a hand to help her but she could only look at him with wide eyes.

"You can see me?” Lilith breathed as she held onto the wall.

The guy only rolled his eyes, “I said I was sorry what more do you want?”

Lilith only looked at him as he went around her and continued down the hall.

As he disappeared Lilith looked back to the front door. The frosted glass showed sunlight, not the rainy day in her nightmare.

Lilith walked over to the door and pushed it open and breathed in the clean air. She stepped down on to the sidewalk. After that nightmare, she would call Kelly and tell her she wasn’t coming in she would go and see her mother. Hell, she would just stay home and watch t.v..

"There you are.“

Lilith froze. That voice, the small airy voice. No, no, no, no, no. It couldn’t be.

Lilith turned around slowly and found a little girl wearing a red jacket, her blonde hair up in a ponytail just like in her dream……wasn’t it a dream. Just a bad dream.

Az smiled up at her as Lilith slowly started to back away.

"I thought you were going to get away from me for a second there.”

By @samantha-evergreen

#Halloween #horror #short story #creepy

50 notes · View notes

azrielsiphons · 7 years

Text

Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same (ch. 7)

<< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >>

This fic is meant to be read in connection with my Azriel-centric prequel stories. I would highly suggest reading those first to get the full reading experience of this fic.

Reblog! Like! Comment! Enjoy!

“And so there you have it,” Lena said, slamming the now empty bottle of wine back on the table. She took in a deep breath, smiling at them all. “Questions?”

“You went to the queens’ palace?”

Lena blinked as everyone at the table whirled their gaze to Nesta, who was clearly waiting on an answer.

“Um — yes. Yes, I went to the queens’ palace,” Lena spluttered. “The King sent me there to placate them and—”

“So you could go back,” Nesta interrupted. “You could go to their palace, they would let you back in and we could kill all of them. Or you could go back to that King of yours, pretend to be loyal to him.”

In an even, low voice, Azriel said firmly, “She’s not going back there.”

Silence descended over the table.

“Nesta,” Feyre said finally, clearing her throat, “The mortal queens will die. As will the King. But we aren’t going to use Lena to do it.”

“On the contrary,” Lena jumped in, crossing her legs brazenly, “I will certainly be of use killing all of those bastards. I have plenty of useful information about Hybern and the queens. I can meet with Cassian tonight and—”

“Tomorrow,” Cassian said. “We’ll go over it tomorrow. You need to rest.”

Lena looked poised to object, but at the expression of pure concern on Cassian’s face she simply nodded and gave him a small, grateful smile.

“We’re calling a meeting between all of the High Lords,” Feyre said. Her eyes shot to Rhys at her side, whose eyes were glassy as he watched his little sister after hearing her harrowing story “We may need you and Nesta to provide testimony to our allies of what Hybern has done. What they’re capable of.”

At the exact same time, both Lena and Nesta said, “No.”

The two females looked at each other from across the table in surprise.

“You said earlier you were fine going to the Court of Nightmares with Amren to prepare for patching up the wall, but you won’t speak to people about—”

“We’re not whores selling out our stories, Feyre,” Lena snapped. Rhys seemed to finally snap out of whatever daze he was in at her tone. “I only told all of you everything I have been through because you are family and deserved to know. Well, three of you I only met today, but you’re family by association I suppose.” She gave a semi-apologetic glance to Lucien and Nesta while Amren only laughed darkly. “I’m not going to relive my trauma in front of the other High Lords to convince them to stop the King when they should do that out of common decency regardless.”

“And I’m not going to grovel to those High Lords who would have gladly killed me as a mortal to try and garner their sympathy,” Nesta added, her voice coated with much more venom than Lena’s.

“The High Lords may not believe our account—” Feyre tried to say.

“Then it is not my fault you are unreliable,” Nesta spat, standing to her feet. “I’ll help with the wall, but she is right,” she looked over to Lena who was silent, observing, “I am not going to whore out my story to everyone for you. And if you even dare suggest that to Elain, I will rip out your throat.”

Silence descended over the table, as Nesta met everyone’s eyes, extending the threat. When she met Lena’s though, she found curiosity and amusement written there. That only seemed to enrage Nesta further and she threw down her napkin and stormed out of the dining room.

Feyre sighed, leaning her head back against the chair.

“You know I think that went well,” Lena said after a few more moments of quiet. Everyone turned to look at her and she chuckled. “Although I am upset that I bore my soul to you all only to have the attention diverted from me so quickly.”

“Lena, you don’t have to tell the High Lords everything you just told us,” Feyre said quickly. “You can tell them the parts you’re comfortable sharing. Your story is more than enough to—”

“No,” Lena interrupted firmly. “It’s not. Feyre, the spell that the King convinced me to stay with wasn’t even real. Technically, I stayed of my own free will.”

“Helion will attest to your belief in it,” Mor jumped in. “You went to see him, he’ll vouch for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lena said, sighing heavily. “As soon as I start telling them all who I was and what the King made me do, they’ll want to kill me on sight. Everyone has heard stories about Hybern’s nameless, faceless weapon. I’ve killed innocents from every one of their Courts. Even if I told them everything, I would likely harm your cause more than help it. I’m sorry.” She looked over to Rhys. “I’m sorry, Rhys. If there’s another way, I’ll do it, just say the word. But if it’s any consolation, I sincerely doubt Nesta is actually opposed to telling them her story. When the time comes, she’ll do it.”

“Why do you say that?” Cassian asked.

“Because she’s decent. I mean, she’s certainly a bitch, that much is for sure.” Feyre growled, but Lena held up her hands. “I mean no disrespect. Everyone is entitled to being a bitch every now and then. People act the way they do for a reason and she has plenty I suppose. But beneath all of that bitchiness is someone that’s hurt. And hurt people are typically the ones who work the hardest to prevent others from being hurt. And she’s young — by both human and fae standards. She hasn’t learned how to manage her emotions, she doesn’t even know who she is at this point really. But she will do what she needs to do when the time comes.”

The ensuing silence was only broken as Lucien’s chair scrubbed against the floor when he stood up suddenly.

“I believe that you all likely have family business to discuss,” he said formally, albeit a bit awkwardly. Lena’s eyes widened as he said directly to her, “I am incredibly sorry for what you have been through.” He opened his mouth to say more, but then changed his mind and gave a weak smile before turning and leaving the room.

“He’s nice,” Lena said casually, sliding Cassian’s plate in front of her and picking through his leftovers.

“Lena.” Rhys’s voice was hoarse and thick with emotion. “I’m… I’m so sorry. You must know that if for a second I believed that you were—”

Lena grabbed Cassian’s fork and pointed it at her brother threateningly. “Rhysand I swear if you ever apologize to me for things beyond your control again I will shove this fork so far up your ass you will taste it. Nothing that happened to me was your fault. It was nobody’s fault but the King’s.”

“You know I actually do have a question,” Cassian said suddenly, folding his hands on the table and looking between Azriel and Lena. “How did you two manage to keep your relationship hidden from the rest of us for an entire month? Were you two hiding in broom closets or…?”

“Cassian,” Rhys groaned.

Lena only laughed and smirked over at Azriel, whose high cheekbones were flushed with pink. “I think I recall a broom closet or two,” she said with a wink.

“Why didn’t you tell us what she was to you, Az?” Mor asked, and the amusement around the table dropped instantly. “It’s been centuries and you were suffering alone.”

“It was my burden to bear,” he said simply. Lena looked away, the food in front of her suddenly much more interesting.

Rhys stood up suddenly, making half the table jump. “You,” he said, pointing to Azriel, “I need to speak with you in private.”

“Rhys—”

“No, Lena, it’s fine,” Azriel said gently, standing to his feet. Rhys leaned down and whispered something in Feyre’s ear as Azriel came around the table. He paused next to Lena’s seat and took a deep breath, thinking through his next words carefully. “If you’ll allow me, I will do whatever is in my power to help you heal. However you want me, I’m yours.”

Lena held her breath, nodding as she blinked quickly and forced herself to look away.

“Az,” Rhys snapped, drawing his brother’s attention. Azriel glanced down at Lena once more and resisted the urge to press his lips to her forehead before following Rhys out of the dining room.

~~~~~

“Rhys, I—”

“No,” Rhys snapped, whirling on Azriel as they stepped out onto the balcony on the opposite side of the House, as far from the dining room as they could get. “I am going to talk and you are going to listen. Do you understand?”

That’s all I’ve been doing this entire evening, Azriel thought to himself.

He nodded, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

Azriel and Rhys never fought. Rhys and Cassian, yes. Azriel and Cassian, certainly yes. But the Shadowsinger had had conflicting opinions and emotions with Rhys perhaps five or six times since they had known one another. They agreed on most things, and Azriel’s loyalty persevered to a fault sometimes.

But Azriel knew that this was different. This wasn’t just about he and Rhys — it was about Lena. Rhys’s sister, the little girl they had all taken care of as young males. Rhys had been a father to her in ways that Aeron never had been. She was his world and he had thought her dead for centuries. Only to have her return and find out her heart had been given to his best friend — his brother in every way but blood.

Azriel couldn’t imagine what Rhys was feeling. And he felt that ever present guilt and shame within him growing more and more as Rhys ran a trembling hand through his hair and stared at him with a rare expression of vulnerability.

“You’re my brother,” Rhys said simply. “You became my brother the day my mother brought you into our home. You know that Cassian and I claimed you that very day, don’t you?”

Azriel nodded, trying to control his shadows from curling in on him.

“And Lena… she’s my sister. My sister, Azriel. She’s — dammit Az, you know. You know, she’s Lena for Cauldron’s sake.”

Azriel was silent as Rhys began to pace. He hadn’t seen his brother this erratic since he had become High Lord.

Laughing humorlessly, Rhys placed his palms on the balcony ledge, shaking his head as he looked out over the city.

“I used to dream that she was still alive. Of what life here might be like. I would certainly be a better High Lord — if I were High Lord at all.” He looked over his shoulder then and Azriel felt like he had been punched in the gut at the sheer emotion in Rhys’s gaze. “You know two days before she was taken, right before you two ran off to that cabin we never knew about… you told me something. You told me that I needed to start being her brother instead of trying to father her the way that Aeron never had. And you were right, Az. I needed to just be her brother for once, and I wanted to. But I never got the chance because I thought she was dead.”

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry—”

“My world died, Azriel,” Rhys trudged on, stalking right up to the Shadowsinger. “My world died right alongside my mother and sister, and the only way I kept going was because of all of you. You, Cassian, and Mor. You kept me alive because you knew the grief that I was going through, I let you all see my pain. And because of that you knew how to help me, how to keep me going. So why the hell didn’t you let us do the same for you?”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

Rhys scoffed, reaching forward suddenly and grabbing Azriel by the shoulders and embracing him tightly. Azriel tensed, afraid that perhaps he was going to be misted any second, but when he realized that Rhys was only hugging him, he cautiously returned the gesture.

Rhys pulled away and shook his head in weak amusement. “Az, you’re one of the most intelligent people I know and you are an idiot. You’re my best friend and I trust you with not only my life, but my mate’s life and the well-being of my Court. And there is no one — no one better suited for my sister.”

Azriel’s breath hitched. “But before, you clearly were upset about us.”

“I was hurt, I’m not ashamed to admit it.” Rhys shrugged. “The thought of you with her is… still strange. It will take getting used to. And I suppose that I — I’m selfish enough that I wished I had been the person she was most happy to be coming back to.”

Azriel looked away. “You’re still her brother, Rhys. She would choose you over me in a heartbeat.”

“No, no she wouldn’t,” Rhys said with a weak smile. “It’s different with a mate. If it were between you and me, she would sacrifice herself on the slightest chance of saving both of us. You’ll understand as things... progress.”

Azriel chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know how you did it, Rhys. With Feyre, when she was in the Spring Court — both times. The moment I saw Lena last night, and felt the bond, it just—”

“Changed your whole world,” Rhys finished. Azriel loosed a breath, nodding. “I know. Which is why I know you’ll never hurt her.”

Azriel shook his head. “Never.”

Rhys smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “You know, when she was younger I always thought that she would end up with Cassian.”

Azriel’s nostrils flared and he cursed as Rhys laughed at him. A heartbeat later Azriel was lunging, grabbing Rhys in a headlock. Rhys only laughed harder, but they both went silent when they heard a slightly amused voice call out —

“It’s been five hundred years and you morons still act like twelve year olds.”

The two males stood up immediately and for a moment they both felt like they had been transported to the Illyrian camps as teenagers once again, being scolded by Wren for wrestling in the house.

But it wasn’t Wren scolding them. It was Lena, standing next to Cassian, the pair of them staring in amusement. Cassian was trying hard not to laugh while Lena had her arms crossed and a neat eyebrow raised.

“Are you two done?” She asked. “Or should I give you guys a moment to make out?”

“Did you hear that, Lena?” Cassian said. “Rhys thought we would have been a couple. We would have been the most attractive pair in all of Prythian.”

“And Hybern,” Lena pointed out. “I can attest that all of those Hybern fae are ugly inside and out.”

“Alas, we would have been too beautiful together,” Cassian continued. “The Cauldron knew that you, being a 10, needed an 8 to keep the balance and not overwhelm all the poor 7 and unders of the world.”

“I think it’s safe to say I’m a 9,” Azriel said drily, eyes narrowing at Cassian, who only laughed.

“9.8,” Lena said quickly. Azriel snapped his gaze to her and she grinned wickedly.

“Well this 10 is going to give you two some privacy,” Rhys said suddenly, turning to Lena. “The 6 and I will meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss what you know about Hybern’s armies.”

“6?” Cassian cried indignantly.

“Actually,” Lena said, hesitating just slightly, “I was wondering if I could talk to you tonight, Rhys. About some other things. Meet me on the roof in half an hour?” Rhys’s eyes widened. “I mean, it’s okay if you can’t. I’m sure with Feyre back you two probably want to just be alone together, but—”

“No, no,” Rhys said quickly. “I can be on the roof. Half an hour.”

Lena smiled. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Cassian grumbled something under his breath about not being a 6 as he gave Lena a quick hug before snapping his wings wide and taking off into the sky. Rhys rolled his eyes and embraced her tightly and clapped Azriel on the shoulder before following after Cassian into the night.

Lena chuckled as she watched the pair began to race down to the city. As they left her line of sight though, she became acutely aware of Azriel’s presence behind her. With a deep breath, she willed herself to turn and face him.

And it struck her all over again. Her Azriel — her mate. Finally together again. She swallowed back her fear that she felt ashamed of even feeling.

“I really don’t want to cry,” she said suddenly. “I’ve cried enough and it is really annoying me at this point so we can just agree to no tears?”

Azriel chuckled, looking down at his feet as he put his hands in his pockets. He hoped she couldn’t tell that it was to keep from reaching out and touching her.

“I think I can do that,” he said with a small smile that cut straight to Lena’s heart. How she had missed that smile.

Lena cleared her throat, hopping up on the balcony ledge and swinging her legs. Azriel couldn’t help but grin at the familiar sight.

“So,” she said, biting her lip and looking up at him. “Rhys is alright with… everything?”

Azriel nodded. “He seemed to be.”

“Good, good. That’s good,” Lena stammered.

Azriel watched in awe as the moonlight reflected off the dark tones of her hair making it look almost blue. The sheer fabric of her dress swished around her legs as she continued to swing her feet. She had taken off her heels at some point and he wanted to laugh — she had always hated heels, but loved the intimidation factor of walking into a room and having everyone be quiet as the shoes clacked on the floor.

“So that was… a lot,” she spoke again, snapping Azriel out of his reverie. “In there. The whole story, I mean.”

Azriel froze. His shadows stilled as he took in the female in front of him — the powerful, strong female that he would die for in a heartbeat but much preferred to live for.

“Lena, you are… incredible,” he said, the words coming out of him as if of their own volition, as if his heart couldn’t fathom not saying them. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re incredible.”

“I’m… Azriel, how can you even say that?” She asked incredulously. “You just found out that I’ve been working for the King of Hybern for the last 500 years and didn’t so much as try to write a note and let you know that I was alive. I never told you we were mates even though I’ve known since my twentieth birthday — that was two years before I was taken.”

“You worked for the King because you thought you were protecting me,” Azriel said quickly. He took a step closer to her. “You did all of those things for me, for all of us. Do I wish you had told me we were mates? Of course. But it doesn’t matter. Because I fell in love with you all the same.” He took yet another step closer, pausing when he heard her breath hitch. “You saved my life, Lena. You risked everything to save me when I was in the Middle and I didn’t even know it was you.”

“I killed your friend,” Lena cried out. “Breen, that was his name, wasn’t it? That’s whose name you said when you tried to kill me out on the ice.” Azriel flinched. “I killed the very creature I asked to save you, and I let them throw that faebane in your face to begin with!”

“You,” Azriel said, surging forward and capturing Lena’s face gently between his hands, “have been to hell and back thousands of times over and you did it all for us. You are absolutely and utterly incredible, Lena. You’re remarkable. And so unbelievably strong. And I know you don’t believe it yet but I do. And that will just have to be enough for now until I can show you how wonderful you are.”

Lena inhaled sharply, her eyes firmly trained on Azriel’s. A single tear slipped from her eye and she cursed.

Azriel chuckled, swiping his thumb over the tear with the utmost gentleness. “Sorry. I know you didn’t want to cry.”

“I wish I could say I was surprised,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Azriel smiled down at her and then paused, taking note of the way he stood between her legs, their chests barely inches apart. Lena must have realized it at the same time he did and the air shifted as the tension rose between them. With a small clear of his throat, Azriel dropped his hands and took a single step backwards.

Lena took a deep breath, straightening out the bottom of her dress as she pressed her legs together.

Azriel put one hand in his pocket and lifted the other to scratch the back of his head, looking down at his feet. He snapped his gaze back up when he heard Lena chuckling.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s just… the way that the dreams worked, they played off my actual memories. And Rydan, he used to do that all the time. That same stance of yours, one hand in his pocket and the other scratching his head. I must have always noticed the way you did that.”

Azriel went very still, lowering his hand slowly.

“I know it sounds so ridiculous,” Lena murmured, unable to meet his gaze. “That I could miss someone that wasn’t even real. It’s just that… I remember it so clearly. The way he moved around in my womb. Giving birth to him — Cauldron, it hurt so bad I broke three bones in your poor hand and two in Rhys’s. I remember nursing him and holding him. His first words were ‘Uncle Cass,’ which we never lived down and Rhys was very jealous of. I just…” She looked up then and saw the devastated expression on Azriel’s face. “I’m sorry, you probably think that I’m delusional, I—”

“No,” Azriel said firmly. Lena’s eyebrows shot up at the intensity in his voice. “I don’t think that, not for one second. It doesn’t matter if he was real by everyone else’s standards. If he’s real in your heart, then he’s real.”

Lena swallowed thickly, blinking away more tears. “Thank you. And I know that this is sick and kind of twisted, but… I wish you could know him. Real you, not — not dream you.”

Azriel smiled sadly, trying his best to keep his utter grief from showing on his face. The knowledge that Lena had experienced the life he had always wanted for them — and it had been a form of torture — wrecked him. The knowledge that she had a son with him, she had his child, and he would never know them… it felt like he needed to mourn alongside her.

“Maybe one day I can,” he said softly. Lena looked at him incredulously. “I mean whenever you’re ready, perhaps… perhaps you can show me. In here.” He tapped the side of his temple. “Only when you’re ready though.”

Lena’s eyes lit up and slowly, ever so slowly, her lips turned up in the brightest smile Azriel had seen in centuries.

“Really?” She asked softly. “Maybe — maybe after all of this is over? After we kill the King and fix the wall and things are hopefully back to normal?”

Azriel swore to himself right then and there that he would fight harder against Hybern than he had fought in anything before if only to give Lena that sense of safety and normalcy she clearly longed for.

“Of course,” he choked out. “Of course.” Lena smiled even wider, looking away when his gaze became too intense. “And Lena, I… I want you to know that I meant what I said before. However you want me, I’m yours. As a mate, a lover, a friend… I’m yours. I know that the bond is there for both of us now and I will always love you with my entire soul—” Lena inhaled sharply— “but I will be yours in whatever way is best for you to heal. There are no expectations. You tell me what you need, and I will give it to you.”

Lena bit her lip as it trembled and Azriel could practically hear the way she was undoubtedly cursing herself for almost crying again.

“How about,” she began, forcing her voice to be even, “we take it slow. One day at a time. We still have a war to fight and I know it’s going to take some getting used to for everyone that I’m back, so… why don’t we just figure it out as we go? No expectations.”

Azriel loosed a breath. That wasn’t a rejection. Even if it had been, he would have stepped away, but the pain would have been… unfathomable.

“No expectations,” he agreed. “So are we friends?”

Lena laughed suddenly and the sound had Azriel grinning. “Az I think we both know that ‘friends’ has always been too small a word for you and I. We’re still… us.” A thoughtful expression came over her then and she smiled softly. “Remember the bridge?”

“Of course,” Azriel said instantly.

“Well I still see you,” she said. Azriel’s heart stuttered in his chest as she repeated those words from so long ago to him. “Do you still see me?”

“Always,” he said hoarsely. “Always.”

~~~~~

“You’re late.”

Lena rolled her eyes as she flipped herself over the edge of the rooftop and landed in an easy crouch, glaring at her brother as he only smirked. She still couldn’t quite get over how much older he looked and yet… he was still the exact same. It was strange. She couldn’t imagine how he felt seeing her — the age in her eyes and the scar on her face.

“I had to change,” she said simply, walking over and plopping down next to him so that their feet dangled off the edge. Indeed, she had changed out of her dress into pants and a loose sweater that Rhys was fairly certain she had stolen from their mother’s old room.

“You didn’t fly up here,” Rhys observed, his voice too even to be casual. Lena kept her eyes forward. “And you pitched a fit when Cassian offered to fly you up here this morning.”

“I did not pitch a fit.”

“Oh it was a fit.”

“Well I was a bit on edge after having my mind assaulted by the King and almost destroying my own city,” Lena snapped. Rhys had nothing to say to that. “Sorry, that was… unnecessary. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long life,” Rhys said softly. Lena turned her head to look at him. His shoulders sagged and she could almost see the burden weighing upon them. The burden she was supposed to have been there to help him with all these centuries.

Not knowing what she could say to possibly convey her emotions, Lena scooted next to Rhys until they were knee-to-knee. He looked down at her curiously, but she only drew her legs up in a criss-cross and stated matter-of-factly, “You are a damn good High Lord, Rhys.”

Rhys started, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said. “Look at this.” She gestured to the city below them. “This city is radiating more life and joy than it ever did when our father was High Lord. I walked around the city today before the dinner, staying hidden so people didn’t think they were seeing a ghost. The people though, the way they talk about you… they love you. You are an amazing leader, Rhys.”

“You would have been better,” he said softly. “You were the one that was made for this. If you had been there when Father died, the power would have transferred to you and maybe—”

“But it didn’t,” Lena said firmly. “Rhys it went to you for a reason.”

“It went to me because you were kidnapped.”

“No it went to you because this city needed you. This Court needed you. It needed a dreamer who still chose to dream in spite of their grief. It needed someone willing to sacrifice everything for years to protect their people.”

“You did that, too.”

“No, I didn’t,” Lena said. “I sacrificed everything because of only a few people. Make no mistake Rhys, I don’t know how to consider the greater good when my family is on the line. You do.”

Rhys had nothing to say to that.

“And that’s why you’re High Lord,” Lena continued. “And why I have utter faith in Feyre as High Lady now.”

“I wish that—” Rhys hesitated, but Lena gave him a look to go on. “I love Feyre, and I don’t regret making her High Lady for one second. But if I had known you were still alive, that you would be coming back to us, maybe… maybe I would have waited. For you to come back and take the title.”

Lena chuckled, shaking her head as she looked over the city. “No, you made the right choice with Feyre. Perhaps who I was before was suited to be a leader, but not who I am now.” She looked back at Rhys. “You and Feyre are exactly what this city and Court need. And what Prythian needs, too. It’s not about sheer power. It’s about leadership and heart, something the two of you have in a way I could never match.”

Rhys smiled thoughtfully. “Thank you,” he said. “Though if it were about sheer power, you would definitely have us beat, as much as I hate to say that.”

Lena threw her head back as she laughed. “Well believe me, if I could give all my power to you I would. It’s not nearly as fun as it sounds.”

“Did you really turn invisible back there?” Rhys asked in wonder. “When you showed up to the dinner?”

Lena chuckled. “Yeah, I learned that about 200 years ago on accident. If you work with the darkness in reverse, you can actually manipulate the light waves around you and within you. It’s difficult, but it makes for a hell of a dramatic entrance.”

“I do love a dramatic entrance,” Rhys said wistfully.

“It must run in the family.”

The two laughed together, a comfortable silence enveloping them shortly thereafter.

“You know when I first saw you,” Rhys finally said, “when I came into that healing room and saw you there on that bed… And I realized it was actually you, I felt like everything was just right again. Despite the war, despite the King, despite all of it, it was right. I had my mate, I had my Circle, my city was safe again, and you were back. You were alive. It was all right again.” He turned and met Lena’s eyes. “And then you had to go and be my best friend’s mate.”

Lena scoffed. “What does that change about anything?”

“It means you’re not just my sister anymore,” Rhys said. “You’re my sister, but you’re also Azriel’s mate. You’re still you, your identity isn’t defined by him, but… it means I have to share you.”

“Well I have to share you with Feyre now,” Lena pointed out.

Rhys tilted his head. “True.”

“Who’d have though we would ever end up here? You’re High Lord, we’re fighting a war together, we’re both mated. Well, you’re mated. I technically just have a mate.”

“What’re you planning on doing about that by the way?” Rhys asked.

“What?”

“Do you plan on being with him? You love him, he loves you, the bond is there… So what are you going to do about it?”

“You mean am I going to wear a pretty dress and have a party where I hand Azriel a piece of bread like a servant girl and let him haul me off like a brute with a new prize cattle?”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Might as well be,” Lena muttered.

“Seriously.” Rhys nudged her shoulder with his own until she looked at him. “What are you going to do?”

Lena sighed heavily. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I really don’t. I know that I love him — I always have and I always will, but I’m — I'm not the person he fell in love with anymore. The female he loved died 500 years ago and now I don't really know who I am anymore. And I think I need to figure that out before asking him to make such a commitment to me.”

Rhys was quiet for a moment. “You know that we might not have all that much time,” he said softly.

Lena gave him a weak smile. “I know.”

Rhys only nodded, trusting her decision. “Well as long as you two aren’t hiding in any more broom closets, I’m alright with whatever you decide to do.”

Lena cackled. “You know we hid in your room one time. He had me pressed against your dresser when he did this thing with his tongue on my neck and—”

Lena squealed as Rhys grabbed her by the shoulders and mussed up her hair, trying to cover her mouth with his hand.

Real life and hard choices awaited them tomorrow. But that night, the two heirs of the Night Court were able to simply be brother and sister the way they had always wanted.

Beyond the Cauldron, somewhere in another world perhaps, they both hoped that Wren was smiling down upon them.

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #azriel #sad oats #HAVE SOME FLUFFINESS AND SWEETNESS AND HEALING #I gave yall a break from the angst #[dwayne the rock johnson voice] you're welcome #HOPE YALL LIKED THIS #i really wanted to dedicate some time to lena and rhys's relationship because i love my children they've been through so much #siblings that would kill for each other are my lifeblood #also so many exciting things ahead #make sure to reblog and leave fun comments and tags i read them all #also i adjusted my primary blog so i can actually reply to replies now!!!#[a whole new world plays in the distance]#alright for real please let me know what yall thought of this chapter i worked pretty hard on it and need constant validation #K BYE LOVE YOU FRIEND

240 notes · View notes

theliterateape · 4 years

Text

I Like to Watch | Star Wars (like, 90% of it...)

By Don Hall

In preparation for the upcoming Star Wars finale (the closing chapter of nine) I, like so many, decided to watch as much of the saga in order as I could bear. I anticipated that the prequels would still kind of blow, that the original trilogy would rock (except for the closing shot of Return of the Jedi) and that the last two would be good if not perfunctory. I also added some Clone Wars and both Solo and Rogue One as well as The Mandalorian.

Full Star Wars infusion, right?

Keep in mind, I’m the original Star Wars kid. Mom, Vicki, and I were living in Phoenix, AZ in 1977. I was eleven years old. That summer, I had fuckall to do because, as we had just moved there, I had no friends, didn’t really know the landscape, and had a ridiculous crush on Kate Jackson (the smart one of Charlie’s angels) that left me all piney and emotional and listening to Alan O’Day’s “Undercover Angel” obsessively. No one was hanging out with that fucking kid.

Then there was this movie. Robots. Twin moons. Space battles. Incredible music. I was hooked. For the months of June and July, I went to the movie theater two miles from our apartment and dropped my $2.50 to see Luke, Leia, and Hantwenty-five times. George Lucas made this movie for me (at least that’s how I saw things). I loved the idea of The Force, Wookies, Darth Vader. Fuck. I was transfixed and as I came to understand that there were hordes of rabid fans just like me that summer, I somehow felt like I was a part of something culturally bigger than my tiny corner of Phoenix.

Jump to forty-two years later. In preparation for the final installment of the Skywalker saga, I went online and watched the entire canon (or at least 90 percent of it) to relive those moments in the context of the most recent chapters and discovered a few things that left me thirsty for The Rise of Skywalker.

First, the prequels aren’t as bad as I remembered. Yes, Lucas kind of fucked a few things up with the most egregious being the casting of Hayden Christiansen as Anakin Skywalker. The dude sucks up the energy on screen like a Sham Wow soaks up spilled Hi-C punch. The self-seriousness of the prequels is a contrast to the swashbuckling fun of the middle trilogy but one has to remember that when Lucas was making the first three, he was just making Star Wars not STAR WARS.

Is Jake Lloyd any good? No but he’s a kid and how good can a kid be acting against green screen shit? Brie Larson is an Oscar winner but her performance in Captain Marvel isn’t much better than Lloyd’s in The Phantom Menace so calm down, fanboys. Is Jar Jar Binks annoying? Yeah, but he’s not in the film that much and is there for comic relief.

My discovery is that these prequels, while focusing on the origins of Darth Vader, are much more about the development and growth of Obi Wan Kenobi and setting the stage for A New Hope. When seen in that frame, they’re actually pretty good especially in scenes between Anakin and Kenobi in Revenge of the Sith.

I truly dig The Force Awakens. I love Rey, I love Finn, I love Poe. Great characters, and the search for Luke is a fabulous storyline to pursue. Yes, it’s a straight up reboot of the very first film but I believe that was a good call on Abrams’ part and it basically followed the story arc Lucas had envisioned with some tweaks here and there. It gave Han Solo an epic death and set the stage for Rey to become the new generation of Jedi.

Initially, I enjoyed The Last Jedi as well. Upon the revisit in prep for the final movie in the triple trilogy, I found myself enjoying it less so. The humor is more slapstick than character-driven, the choices to be more woke feel more “Lookie here, GenZ!” than simply a part of an ever-expanding universe. While I understood the disaffected and bitter Luke Skywalker, the decision to effectively sideline the character leaves me cold. I like Adam Driver but not Kylo Ren and the focus on the connection between he and Rey seems forced like the killing of Snoke. If Rey doesn’t need Luke why does she need some sort of romantic tie to another conflicted dude?

Still, plenty to like about Rian Johnson’s entry. Finn was much more interesting as was Poe. The forced economics lesson embedded actually worked with the final shot and the promise of more Force-sensitive individuals out there in the galaxy. Luke’s Force Ghost-like fight at the end was remarkable. Unfortunately, Johnson sought to demystify and de-platform most of the best loved tropes of the earlier films, which didn’t leave Abrams much to work with in his final follow up.

Time for Rise of Skywalker.

On the surface, it has everything a Star Wars junkie could want: great space battles, amazing lightsaber duels, bizarre new characters, callbacks to the previous eight chapters. I cried a few times, I laughed some, and I enjoyed the ride.

While I appreciated the use of Carrie Fisher to cap that character like Episode 7 did for Han Solo and Episode 8 did for Luke, it felt awkward in that, if one didn’t know she had passed away before filming, it looks like she was just directed to look sad and detached (hardly the Princess/General we love).

I’ll admit to digging this wrap-up despite Abrams’s requirement to pack as much into every second to answer both long unanswered questions as well as rectify some of Johnson’s departures from the core of the seven episodes that came before. Is it the perfect ending? No. The passing of the Skywalker torch is essential but I wanted more Skywalker than Palpatine (whose bizarre resurrection is poorly explained and seems a bit of a stretch). For the wrap-up of a storyline about Darth Vader and his children, a bit more connection to all three would have been nice.

It seems in hindsight that Abrams tried to reboot the thing by effectively aping A New Hope, Johnson tried to completely subvert the thing by tossing out expectations (TFA Big Moment: handing Luke his lightsaber turns into him tossing it away like garbage; TFA Big Question: Who are Rey’s parents turns into nobody) with The Last Jedi, and Abrams, in turn, ignored most of Johnson’s changes.

In some ways, the interconnectiveness of the Marvel films has spoiled me. The clarity of purpose over the course of years of storytelling is more intentional than a final three films written by fans rather than Lucas. On its own, The Rise of Skywalker is a grand adventure. As the final episode of a nine-part story, it falls a bit short.

Such are these sorts of things because it’s goddamned hard to capture magic that was so unexpected in 1977. Lucas tried to recreate it with the prequels, Abrams tried to recreate it with the sequels but the Star Wars that is cemented in my GenX mind will forever be those first three films sandwiched now in the middle.

Now, those were magical.

#I Like to Watch #Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker

0 notes

paulyrhythmics · 7 years

Text

New Years Rant

So it is the new year, the first day has passed it’s been a pretty chill yet somber start.

So I guess I should start off with saying that 2016 was just about the most trying year of my life... thus far. I went through so many emotions & have felt the lowest I never even thought I could even feel.

Just starting out I was dealing with feelings of rejection from my ex from the previous year & when she finally broke things off between us the night before her birthday I kinda felt a sense of relief that I no longer had to feel like I was trying too hard to make her notice I was still alive & I was happy knowing that I could still be a friend to her, but given my nature I was still incredibly attached to her.

Fast forward a couple of months to April & I was super excited that I got to play my first show at my favorite venue as my own solo project & was elated to hear so much positive response from those whom attended. All the fruits of my labor had paid off & it was incredibly satisfying.

However not too long after that was when shit started really going downhill... I found out that my ex had been seeing someone else... & was supposed to be spending their 2 year anniversary in July... I was completely devastated. I went to my friend for consultation, who (unfortunately) went to his friend... & eventually the other guy found out.

When I finally talked to her she was upset with me & shut me & my friend out. It was an agonizing feeling not having proper closure. I’m the kind of person who likes having that sense of peace with things & this is now just a loose end in my life that’ll unfortunately never be tied... Also I’ll never get to see our cat again which super sucks since she also was expecting a litter when we broke up that I’ll never get to meet... 😕

Well, the main effect of all the drama was I went into the hardest state of anxiety/depression of my life. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for anyone & I’d never be able to find love again & it was hard for me to function properly for a while... About a month later though, I was able to feel like my life had meaning again when I started seeing a friend that I had been flirting with prior to the drama.

I was still dealing with my conflicting feelings with my ex but I was still happy that I had found someone new & who was so supportive to me. I was able to find the motivation to work on my other passion in music & played yet another great show at my favorite venue (as myself & back-up for my other friend’s project) & received a lot of positive reinforcement from family & friends during the time.

The next few months during the summer/fall seasons were a great adventure. I spent a lot of time feeling in love again. There was lots of trial & error in both my relationship & with my music. I was discovering what it is that I needed to do to make things work for me, & to help her grow as well. I got to hang with a lot of good friends, I got to meet a lot of great new people, saw a few amazing live artists (not as much as I’d’ve liked tho tbh) & even got to experience the world of LARPing, which is something I said I’d never do before lol

The only downside during this time was I still had those unresolved feelings of my ex floating in the back of my mind & I was also kinda dealing with a newfound feeling of jealousy for one of my partner’s friends. They were former lovers & it felt like maybe they were a better match for each other sometimes... But I kept that bottled up inside since there didn’t seem a reason to make things awkward between us.

Unfortunately things started slowing down between the 2 of us & we eventually parted ways a little after Thanksgiving. There’s no hard feelings & we can still talk a bit, which makes me happy (though it does feel a bit one sided sometimes haha but it’s cool I know she’s working hard on bettering herself as a person)

It’s been pretty lonely as of late, I find myself feeling a great need to display affection towards someone who isn’t there. But it’s as they say there’s plenty of fish in the sea, maybe I’ll find someone new in this upcoming year. Though I find myself in a kind of mindset that I kinda don’t want to be in a “relationship” but maybe have a FWB sort of thing going on. I dunno, we’ll see where that takes us... (suddenly I’m speaking in the royal we for some reason lol)

Lately a lot of venues have been closing or on the verge of closing & my favorite venue was no exception... I had a bittersweet farewell to the venue at the first of the last 3 shows there a few weeks back. It’s been kind of heartbreaking see a place that holds so many memories for so many people go away. It’s where I used to hang with my friends & ex all the time & it’s the last place I played live at too. I have both good & bad memories in there & I’ll cherish them all for as long as I live.

The end of the year has been spent pretty great however. I’ve been hanging out in AZ since that last show with my family for the past few weeks. I’ve had a pretty fun musical experience. Drum classes, jazz band jams, Music Instrument Museum, & a Snoop Dogg/Bone Thugs n Harmony concert have been highlights of the passing year. I‘ve been eating just about the best I could ever have (haha thanks mom) & I’ve gone mountain hiking 2x too.

Actual new years passed by pretty smoothly. I ate a whole large pizza by myself (all for the sake of a joke) had the traditional grapes mom & I eat (a custom from our trip to Spain when I was a kid). Kinda had a bit of a cry to myself as I reflected the hardships & loneliness I’ve felt this past year. During the day I just chilled at home, played a little guitar & Kindom Hearts Unchainedx, did some laundry, listened to some music & watched stuff on Netflix.

A little while ago, against better judgment & for old times sake I scrolled through my first ex’s fb. (I know, you’re an absolute creep man!) She’s going on a trip to Europe which is cool, I’m glad that he’s doing well for herself & I find it funny that I’ll also be going on a big trip out to Central America this year. Apparently she actually was at the old hang out spot a few days before I was there for a show (despite saying she’d never go there again a few months prior) I find it funny that had I known about the show on that day & we had crossed paths... well who knows what could have happened??? lol Also she made a post about her year & mentioned that she had ended 2 shitty relationships & stopped a few friendships. I’m curious as to weather if she even considers me to be 1 of those relationships (since I believe she was with someone else before her current relationship) or if I’m just one of the “friends” & doesn’t even acknowledge me in that regard.

I know people always saying don’t check in on others who don’t give a shit about you, but honestly, it makes me feel better knowing that people I’ve interacted with are doing well even if it’s without me in their life. I like the feeling that at one point in their life I was a part of their reality & it helped push them to where they’re at in the now for the better.

Well anyways I just felt like venting shit here again. I’ve been through a lot from 2 relationships to 2 grand musical performances (let’s not even talk about all the political bs that transpired haha) I’ve just gotta figure out what it is that I need to do this year to mature & become more adult-like. Gotta finally start thinking about learning to drive, going back to school &/or finding a stable source of income. *shudders* I guess I need to become a functioning member of society & the kind of person that can help someone I care about in any sort of situation (like help pay for things or whatever). Here’s hoping that this year will be one of great personal growth for the better!~

(Hopefully this isn’t too naive of a notion lol)

#personal rant #personal #rant

0 notes

azrielsiphons · 7 years

Text

Prequel: Azriel-Centric Stories Set Before ACOTAR (ch.3)

This is a collection of interconnected short stories about Azriel’s life before any of the events of ACOTAR through ACOWAR.

Make sure to read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 4.5, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Read the follow up fic, Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same

CHAPTER 3: DOREA

Time frame: 40 years after the War.

Summary: The Prince of Adriata has been found dead in his sleep lying next to his wife, the newly crowned Princess of Adriata, Dorea. Knowing that the Night Court has a skilled spymaster, High Lord Narayan calls in a favor from Rhys. Azriel and Cassian offer to help investigate the death. Cassian may or may not accidentally destroy a building.

(Note: This is the longest chapter yet and holds several clues to an overarching fic I’m working on. Remember that though these stories are spaced out and not posted chronologically, they are all interconnected. Enjoy!)

“All I’m saying is, we shouldn’t rule out the wife.”

“Cassian.” Azriel sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Princess Dorea did not kill her husband.”

“You don’t know that!” Cassian shot back, buckling the last of his leathers.

“Yes, we do.” Both Cassian and Azriel snapped their heads up as Rhys strode into the room, running his fingers through his hair. He flopped down on the chaise dramatically and took a deep breath. “I’ve met Dorea. She’s not exactly the husband-murdering type.”

“See,” Azriel said under his breath, lacing his boots and ignoring Cassian’s look of incredulity.

“The husband-murdering types never seem like the husband-murdering types until they murder their husbands, brother.”

“Dorea adored Solomon, and vice-versa. When I first met them, I thought they were mates,” Rhys said wistfully.

“But they weren’t mates,” Cassian pointed out haughtily. “Which means she very likely could have killed him.”

“Lack of a mating bond isn’t evidence for a murder, Cassian,” Rhys said. “I can certainly assume that should you find a mate, he or she will want to kill you right away.”

“And your mate won’t?” Cassian snapped.

“Can we focus please?” Azriel sighed, forcing himself not to think of her. “We’ve been personally invited by the Summer Court to investigate the death of one of their princes. Perhaps we should at least pretend to be worthy of such an invitation instead of acting like children.”

Cassian scoffed, pulling the strap of leather off of his wrist in one smooth motion. “Don’t go saying ‘we,’ brother. You were invited. High Lord Narayan asked Rhys for his Spymaster specifically. He wants your investigative brains, I’m just the brawn that has to tag along.”

The smirk on Cassian’s face as he pulled back his hair with the strap of leather showed he didn’t mind being the brawn in the slightest.

“Azriel is right,” Rhys interjected with a smile he rarely showed around anyone except his brothers. “Adriata is heartbroken over the loss of its prince, and Narayan is desperate to give his people and Dorea an explanation. And Dorea too, for that matter.”

“I hope this doesn’t become a regular occurrence,” Azriel said monotonously, standing to his feet and giving Rhys a wry smile. “You loaning me out to other Courts, that is.”

“Feeling like a cheap whore, Az?”

“Please Cassian, we both know you’re the cheap one.”

~~~~~

“Welcome to the Summer Court!”

Azriel felt severely uncomfortable. As High Lord Narayan welcomed he and Cassian, all he wanted to do was disappear into his shadows. This wasn’t what he did, Rhys and Mor were the ones who worked politics and charmed officials and made nice with other Courts.

This was as far from his normal as he could get.

She was always good at this, his shadows whispered cruelly. If she were here she would know exactly what to do. If you’d protected her, if you had—

“Your Court is quite nice,” Cassian said quickly, covering for Azriel as he zoned out. “I mean nothing can quite compare to the Night Court—”

“Now Commander,” Narayan interrupted with an amused grin, looking over his shoulder as they strolled through the palace in Adriata. “Let’s not bring any tension into this new relationship this early.”

Cassian and Narayan laughed heartily, and Azriel forced himself to focus, to not think of her, of the loss in his chest and in his soul.

“Where is Princess Dorea?”

The laughter stopped immediately and Narayan took a deep breath. “Dorea is here. She’s had some… difficulties leaving her room since we lost Solomon. Our city is still in mourning, and none more so than Dorea.”

“Of course,” Azriel nodded respectfully. “With your permission, I would like to meet with her first before any other… investigating.”

Narayan nodded, leading the males to a balcony overlooking the city and the sea. His dark skin seemed to glow in the harsh, yet beautiful sunlight. He lifted his gaze to the sky, breathing in the sea air.

“Dorea is aware that I called you here,” he finally spoke, his low tenor reverberating in Azriel’s bones. “She is also aware that, given the circumstances of Solomon’s death, an outsider may believe that she is complicit.”

“Do you believe—”

“No.” Narayan shook his head fervently, looking Azriel directly in the eyes. “Not for one second do I believe Dorea harmed Solomon in any way.”

“Then who?” Cassian asked, his tone serious.

“I wish I could tell you. I’ve spoken to every guard in this palace personally. There was no ill will between anyone in the direct vicinity and Solomon. Quite frankly his death makes no sense.”

“How was he found?”

“Dead in his bed. The guards came running when Dorea started screaming. I was on the other side of the Court at the time, but they said the sight of her holding him was… horrible.” Narayan shook his head as if to rid himself of the mental image. “I will be honest, it is a blow to my pride to have to call you in, Azriel. I remember Rhysand’s father mentioning you once, years ago. You were here with his daughter, if I recall correctly.”

White noise began to creep into Azriel’s mind.

“A terrible loss,” Narayan continued, oblivious to the Shadowsinger’s inner conflict. Cassian had tensed as well, watching Azriel carefully out of the corner of his eye. “She was so charming, just like her mother. Regardless, Rhysand’s father had said you were the best Spymaster a High Lord could hope for.”

He sure had a damn funny way of showing his appreciation.

“So when this tragedy happened and my own people couldn’t get to the bottom of it, I remembered you.” Narayan smiled genuinely, and Azriel felt briefly guilty that he was hardly invested in the conversation anymore.

He remembered that visit. She had worn blue as a sign of respect to the Summer Court, her father had been livid over it, but she’d insisted that pride would divide the Courts and division was the last thing they needed in the middle of the war. She had smiled at Azriel, given him a sly wink when her father had turned and—

“I will accept the blow to my pride if that’s what it takes to get answers.”

Azriel came back to the present almost violently, but he showed nothing beyond a small flare of his shadows.

“We’ll find out who killed your prince, High Lord.” Azriel’s voice had gone so low it seemed to carry an undertone of threatening. Cassian looked at him curiously. “I swear it.”

“Thank you.” Narayan’s gratefulness was honest. “I will send for Dorea, see if she is ready to see you.”

Azriel and Cassian offered small bows to Narayan as he exited the room, leaving the pair with a couple of Summer Court guards.

“Hey.” Cassian grabbed Azriel’s arm the second the High Lord was out of earshot. “Are you with me?”

Azriel nodded, shaking the image of her violet eyes, twin to Rhys’s, from his mind.

“Always,” he said. “Always, brother.”

~~~~~

A little while later Narayan finally emerged, and with him was easily one of the most stunning females Azriel and Cassian had ever seen.

Her skin was flawless, dark and glowing and beautiful. The yellow silk dress she wore was loose and billowing in the light wind coming through the open balcony. Her eyes were fiercely trained on the Illyrians standing in her palace, but not with any hostility. Only pure grief. And pure strength.

Azriel knew the look well.

“Hello,” she spoke, her voice cool and even. “My name is Dorea. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Welcome to Adriata.”

Azriel and Cassian bowed respectfully.

“The pleasure is ours,” Cassian offered with a smile. Azriel was more grateful for Cassian’s presence than he originally expected to be. One of them should be charming.

“You have no idea how charming you can be, do you?” She had asked, her bright smile cutting Azriel to his core. Rhys would have killed him if he’d seen the way he was looking at his sister in that moment. “Brooding is your specialty Az, and I love your brooding, I really do. But manners, charm, charisma? You could excel at that too. If you just believed in yourself enough to—”

Focus! The shadows shouted in Azriel’s ear, yanking him back out of the past once more.

Azriel came back to the present with the smallest twitch, but every eye in the room turned to him all the same. He cleared his throat.

“Princess Dorea,” he began.

“Please,” she held up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Just Dorea. I am still getting used to this new title.”

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Narayan said kindly, catching her eye. “Given these circumstances, your strength is exactly what Adriata needs.”

Azriel gave a small smile. “A woman’s strength is like no other.”

Dorea’s head snapped towards the Shadowsinger. She cocked her head to the side with an inquisitive look.

“I take it you have known some strong women in your day,” she said coolly.

“Known and loved and admired.”

Cassian stared at Azriel.

It took a moment, but Dorea offered Azriel the smallest of smiles.

~~~~~

Azriel questioned Dorea for half an hour before moving on to the guards in the palace. Then, to Narayan’s surprise, he insisted on speaking to the other servants in the palace as well, even the ones that were nowhere near the incident. But Azriel knew that one’s true character could be better understood by the way they treated those who provided services for them.

You learned that from her, his shadows whispered.

It had been a while since the memories had been this painful for him. He shook the thoughts away for what felt like the hundredth time.

Fortunately, every description of both the incident and Solomon’s character had been consistent.

Solomon was a kind prince, who loved his people and held the utmost respect for his High Lord and his role in Adriata. He adored his wife, whom he had only been married to for six years. Dorea loved him equally, and never expected to take on the role of princess. She was content being the wife of a prince, and never expected to one day take on her husband’s responsibilities when she had married him.

All the guards verified that Dorea had woken up next to her husband’s body. They had come running inside when they heard her scream.

There were no external injuries, and the healers that examined the body said there were no evident traces of organ damage or poisons. Not that Azriel was surprised by that though, considering there were plenty of poisons in Prythian that left the body without a trace after an hour or two. He felt confident that’s what happened with Solomon.

While Narayan assured Azriel and Cassian that Solomon had no enemies within the city, Dorea seemed to be in less agreement.

Which was why Azriel wasn’t surprised when Dorea slipped him a note to meet her in her chambers after dark when they all retired to their rooms.

“I asked you to come alone,” Dorea huffed when Azriel and Cassian stepped out of the shadows behind her bedroom door. They may not have been able to winnow within the palace, but there were always plenty of shadows.

“Sorry princess, where he goes I go,” Cassian said with a smirk.

“That’s not always true, ignore him. No one is listening to us.” A blue shield settled around the room as Azriel’s siphons flared and then dimmed slightly. “You’re hiding something from Narayan. What is it?”

Dorea’s eyes flashed, surprised that Azriel was so blunt. The surprise quickly disappeared though, giving way to a deep sadness and exhaustion as she sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I don’t want to keep things from my High Lord,” she said softly. “I truly don’t. Secrets are a poison.”

“Like the one that killed your husband?” Cassian asked.

“Exactly like the one that killed my husband,” she snapped. “I know what you must be thinking. That I killed my husband and must have excellent acting skills to scream so convincingly when I found his body.”

“Well,” Cassian shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

Dorea raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t really believe that though, do you? You’re smarter than that, I can see it. Playing the dumb brute so that I might slip up doesn’t become you, Commander.”

Cassian grinned.

“Solomon must have had enemies,” Azriel said softly. “Even the most beloved leaders have enemies. Who was his?”

“I want to tell you, but you must understand something first.” Dorea inhaled, her breath shaking. “I was never supposed to be the princess of Adriata. This was never the role I asked for or wanted. I simply loved Solomon with my entire being, prince or not.”

“That’s sweet,” Cassian said. “What does that have to do with anything though?”

“When Solomon died, Narayan himself decided that I would become the princess. I was not originally in line for the position.”

Cassian and Azriel stood a little taller, beginning to connect the dots.

“He broke tradition,” Azriel whispered, his shadows flaring. “Who was supposed to take his place?”

“No one,” Dorea said. “We just expected that our future child would one day…”

Azriel and Cassian looked away as Dorea began to choke up. A few seconds passed and she took a deep breath, composing herself like a true queen.

“We never thought we needed to worry about someone taking over,” she said evenly.

“Who wanted the position?” Azriel asked, not wanting to waste any more time.

Dorea looked up at him from under her lashes, her dark brown eyes boring into his own.

“Someone we didn’t even know existed,” she whispered. “His half-brother.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stepped forward, a look of incredulity on his sharp features. “Half-brother? You didn’t feel like mentioning this to us earlier? With Narayan?”

“We only learned about him a couple weeks ago,” Dorea explained quickly. “He showed up out of nowhere, cornering us outside of our favorite restaurant. He said his name was Moesen, and he was Solomon’s half-brother on his father’s side. He was kind, he seemed genuine. And the resemblance between he and Solomon was undeniable. He knew all about Solomon’s father, and said his only intention was to know his brother, nothing more.”

“He was lying.” Azriel didn’t phrase it like a question.

Dorea nodded. “He continued to show up, asking Solomon all sorts of questions about what being the prince was like, the protocols, the responsibilities. Then one day he blatantly asked if Solomon would bring him into the Court ranks. He said he was ‘family’ after all.” Dorea laughed bitterly. “Solomon told him no as kindly as he could, explained that Moesen simply didn’t have the experience necessary to work for the Court.”

“He got angry,” Cassian said with a sigh, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.

“It was horrifying,” Dorea whispered. “Moesen lost it. Said Solomon would pay for not being loyal to his blood.”

“And you never told Narayan any of this?” Azriel asked.

“Solomon didn’t want to bother the High Lord with his petty family drama,” Dorea replied. “It is one of my deepest regrets that I did not contact Narayan on my own.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“No. It’s not.” Azriel’s tone left no room for arguing.

“So to clarify,” Cassian said, “Moesen wanted to be an official Court representative. Solomon said no, with good reason. Moesen loses it, poisons Solomon likely thinking there would be an investigation into Solomon’s family line to name the next prince but instead Narayan appoints you to the position. So now Moesen is probably coming after you, and Narayan has no idea about any of this.”

A beat passed.

“Yes, I believe that’s it,” Dorea finally said.

“Well.” Azriel took a deep breath, looking over at Cassian. “It looks like we have our work cut out for us, brother.”

~~~~~

Dorea called in four extra guards to watch her room at Azriel’s request while he and Cassian returned to their chambers. They decided to wait until morning to search out Moesen and deal with him, thinking it unwise to go traipsing through Adriata in the middle of the night on a hunt without Narayan’s knowledge.

Azriel tossed and turned throughout the night, haunted by images of violet eyes, melting snow under a river of red, slender fingers gripping his leathers and begging him to stay.

You should have stayed.

He let the nightmares lull him to sleep.

~~~~~

“Come again?” Narayan asked incredulously, looking at the Illyrians like they had told him the sky was green. Bright morning light shone into the meeting room. “Solomon had a… half-brother. Who murdered him. And now wants to murder Dorea.”

“Yes,” Azriel said bluntly. If it were up to him he would have already tracked down Moesen, killed him or perhaps delivered him alive to Dorea so she could land the killing blow, and been back at Velaris by now. But politics prevented that.

“And no one thought to tell me this before now? Where is Dorea?”

“The princess was feeling ill this morning,” replied one of the guards in response to Narayan’s glare.

“Perfect,” he muttered. “Where is this Moesen then?”

“We are not sure yet,” Azriel said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He could have handled this by now if he had free reign.

Narayan took a deep breath, standing to his full height. He cracked his neck on one side, then the other, then rolled his shoulders before meeting Cassian and Azriel’s eyes.

“Thank you for your help, gentlemen. I am truly grateful. However, I believe my Court can handle this from here.”

“You want us to leave?” Cassian asked incredulously.

“Cass—”

“No, Dorea trusted us enough to tell us the truth,” Cassian snapped. His temper was getting the best of him. “She told us about Moesen and didn’t tell her High Lord. What does that say to you, Narayan?”

“Remember where you are, boy.” Narayan’s voice promised a slow death. The kindness had left his dark eyes. “This is my Court and you are a guest here at my request. I am grateful for your help, but do not overstep your bounds.”

Cassian moved to step forward and Azriel grabbed his arm faster than anyone could see. The Summer Court guards stepped forward, only to freeze as Narayan held up his hand.

Just as Cassian was about to mouth off again and get them into deeper trouble, there was a scream.

“Dorea,” Narayan whispered.

The three males and all the guards took off as fast as they could for Dorea’s chambers. The guards outside her door all lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious. Narayan was the first to burst through the chamber doors.

The trio froze. Inside Dorea’s room stood a tall, handsome male with rage in his eyes and a knife in his hand held up to Dorea’s throat. Dorea had one hand clutched onto the male’s forearm and the other against her stomach.

“Don’t move,” the male said darkly. He was wearing a guard’s uniform.

That’s how he got into the palace.

“Moesen,” Narayan said calmly, holding up his hands. “Step away from Dorea. We can talk.”

“Oh you know my name?” Moesen snapped. “Interesting, considering my late brother thought I wouldn’t be good enough to consult with the High Lord.”

“Don’t you speak of him,” Dorea hissed, thrashing in his hold.

“Shut your mouth!”

Azriel risked a step forward as the knife dug deeper into Dorea’s skin. Discreetly, he created a small shield of blue between her neck and the blade. At the release of pressure, her eyes widened but she remained silent. Her eyes continued to to dart down to her stomach.

“I would be an asset to your Court,” Moesen said, seemingly pleading with Narayan. “I could help you so much, really connect you to your people. The same blood that ran in Solomon’s veins runs in mine!”

“You killed Solomon.”

“Only to get what is rightfully mine! And then you gave it to her!”

Moesen went to dig the knife deeper into Dorea only to meet the resistance of Azriel’s shield. He looked down with wide eyes at the blue barrier, giving Dorea ample time to rear her head back and slam it into his nose.

Moesen cried out in pain, but lurched forward, thrusting his knife out at the same time Cassian rushed forward and was grabbing him by the shoulders in the blink of an eye.

Narayan and Azriel both shouted for Cassian to stop, but he didn’t listen. Wings snapping out, Cassian lifted himself and Moesen into the sky.

Just as Azriel was about to go bring Cassian back, Dorea let out a whimper and fell to the ground.

“Dorea!” Narayan rushed to her side, catching her as she fell. He pulled his hand away and it was red, stained with blood where Moesen’s blade had sunk into her back. “You’re going to be okay, your fine.” He looked over at Azriel, who crouched next to the pair. “Help me.”

Azriel was already working on a patch of blue over the wound, keeping any more blood from escaping while Narayan repaired the actual damage.

“The baby,” Dorea gasped out. “Get a healer, I’m pregnant.”

Narayan froze for a brief second before calling out for a healer. Two of the guards rushed out.

In the distance within the city, a crash resounded followed by screaming. Narayan’s eyes flashed with anger, but he quickly looked back down at Dorea.

If Narayan doesn’t kill you then I will, Cassian, Azriel thought to himself.

“You’re going to be just fine,” Narayan repeated. “You and your baby. The knife barely went in, you’re okay.”

“I need him to be okay,” Dorea whispered painfully. Silence descended over the room. “He’s all I have left of Solomon. Please, Narayan.”

The High Lord nodded fervently, holding Dorea tight. “I promise. For Solomon. And for you.”

A few seconds later Cassian landed on the balcony of Dorea’s room, covered in dust and dirt as he hauled a haggard looking Moesen behind him. He tossed the terrified male onto the floor in front of him and a group of guards ran forward and hauled him to his feet.

“He’ll go quietly now,” Cassian said gruffly, shaking his head so that dust went flying. “Though I may have broken a building while scaring him.”

Narayan glared, but it was Dorea who spoke. “You’re never coming back to the Summer Court.”

~~~~~

“So let me get this straight,” Mor said in between laughter. “You flew the poor male from the sky all the way down into a building, effectively destroying that building, and then you were surprised when you were reprimanded for it?”

“In my defense,” Cassian snapped, grabbing a bottle of whiskey out of Rhys’s hands. “He was no ‘poor male.’ He was a murderer, and he deserved it. Right, Azriel?”

“He deserved much worse, and in a different setting,” Azriel drawled. “But your methods were certainly creative.”

“Creative?” Rhys asked incredulously, snatching the bottle back. “I had to write the most kiss ass letter imaginable to Narayan so that he wouldn’t go further than simply banning Cassian. Be glad you didn’t get a blood ruby on your doorstep.”

Cassian shuddered. “Cauldron help us if we ever get one of those.”

“Honestly I’m just surprised Narayan didn’t drown you where you stood,” Mor said. “You wrecked a building, Cassian.”

“Just one,” he muttered.

“How is the princess?” Amren asked monotonously, not nearly as amused as the rest of the Circle.

“She’s good,” Azriel answered, briefly meeting her silver eyes. “She and the baby are both fine. Moesen is being held in their prison, he will go on trial soon.”

“Do you think they will let him live?”

Azriel shrugged. “I believe that Narayan and Dorea are kinder than most in Prythian. Kinder than any of us, certainly. But Moesen killed someone they loved.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No matter how kind one is… revenge is sometimes necessary in order to go on living.”

A somber silence descended over the group. They all knew the sentiment well. The rage against injustice. Against innocent life lost.

“Death is inevitable, Azriel. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hate it with every fiber of our being.”

She would never know just how much he hated death. But he would continue to wield it. For her. For revenge. For justice. For the family he had left.

“To living,” Cassian said suddenly, grabbing his own glass for once and raising it high. “To living for the sake of those we’ve lost.”

Everyone murmured their agreement except Azriel, who clinked his glass but wanted to choke on his own shadows. Living was a gift. But when he’d had her, it had been a prize.

But he would keep on surviving all the same. If only to spite death for what it had taken from him.

#acotar fanfiction #acomaf fanfiction #acowar fanfiction #acowar #azriel #my writing #prequel project by moe

229 notes · View notes