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#what if the cauldron was wrong
8bitrosethorn · 22 days
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And that love would trump even a mating bond.
Just saw someone say that they “don’t want Azriel to end up with someone that has a mate that isn’t him/also his mate.”
Why? Because of his self-worth issues.
But isn’t that the point? To love someone who isn’t your Cauldron-chosen mate. To instead choose to be with them because you love them so?
For anyone, but especially for Azriel, that says more about how someone truly loves and treasures you, mate or not.
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viridianevergarden · 2 months
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Imagine finally having the courage to say something that has literally been agonizing you for months or years and your incredibly fair take immediately gets shot down and you get shut down, not by a stranger, but one of the people you love and care for most. Without any chance of being heard out either. Really shitty.
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this-is-madnesss · 26 days
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Babes it's not the artist's fault that your ship sucks in canon, take it with SJM if you have a problem 😭
ELAIN IS UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND LUCIEN AND THAT'S CANON
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shadowsingerswife · 2 months
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gwandas · 16 days
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it’s killing me that the other Archeron sisters are mated to High Lords (future High Lord in Elain’s case) and Nesta is stuck with that LOSER
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caesarinsalata · 5 months
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I'm know I'm a sham FMA fan for not seeing EVERYTHING yet, but honestly, what did they do to Ed in this movie??? (I didn't know this movie existed until like a month ago when I got back into FMA)
It's like they threw some extra anime and fuck bói into him.
It's not a bad look, but what??
(also, why the green in the eyes? He's supposed to have perfect baby boy golds!)
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starsreminisce · 7 months
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Sjm laid the personality groundwork for Elain perfectly, she doesn't have to retcon anything to make Elriel plausible.
"you don't think he deserves to be with someone whom the cauldron deemed his equal"
He deserves to be with who he loves and has feelings for. And how are you so sure that Elain isn't his equal when we haven't seen the full force of her powers yet?
Lastly, the stark contrast of emotions between "I'm getting her back" and "we trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It's all we can do." Makes it clear that gwyn is not Azriel's mate.
Ah, yes, the classic Elriel comeback: "How can I be so sure?"
Elain doesn't like violence, has shown no interest in spying or being a fighter, needs sunshine and, his shadows tend to disappear when she's around.
Perfect match.
If Azriel truly loves Elain as much as some claim, why didn't he express that to Rhys when he asked about Mor? Why did he avoid the question altogether?
Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys all seem to understand that Azriel won't move on unless he lets go of Mor.
I expected Azriel to fight for Elain's affection, even against his High Lord. I expected him to speak more passionately than just playing the "I'm the third brother, why not me" card. He should have conveyed that he and Elain are better suited for each other, emphasizing her preference for him over her own mate. He should have declared his love for her and challenged Rhys's perspective. He should have called Rhys's bluff on any potential demotion.
After their meeting, I expected Azriel to seek her out, explain himself, and offer a proper apology with the kiss he had promised her. He should have kept the necklace, intending to give it to her when the time was right.
At the very least, he should have addressed her by her name rather than continuing to refer to her as "the third sister," especially if his love for Elain runs as deep as you suggest.
But wait, silly me, because the bonus chapter isn't truly canonical for Elriels, at least not the part where he's with Gwyn.
So, I anticipated that Cassian and Nesta would drop more hints about Elain and Azriel's undeniable connection.
I would have expected them to question why Azriel couldn't seem to stay away from her, why he chose to move to the river house, why he danced with her so frequently during the Hewn City solstice, and why he remained by her side throughout the river house solstice. I wondered why Azriel didn't offer comfort to Nesta regarding Elain's desire to assist her if they were confiding in each other. And why did Azriel maintain such intense eye contact with Elain and look at her with longing?
However, none of these details were present in the story so far, were they?
And, of course, some Elriels can't help but interpret Az's efforts to get Elain back, while not pursuing Gwyn, as "proof" of their ship, even though it's what solidifies Gwynriel for me.
This is what Azriel did when he rescued Gwyn the first time:
He closed his eyes, as if reeling his rage back into himself. “I heard that Mor had brought one in. Azriel was the one who made it out there first, and he killed any of the Hybern soldiers left, by that point …”
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. Morrigan arrived a few minutes later, and then Rhysand appeared, and it became clear some of the soldiers had gotten away with the piece of the Cauldron, so Azriel headed after them.
THAT IS MATE BEHAVIOR. Azriel typically leaves a couple for interrogation, especially when it's part of his job.
Azriel's trust in Gwyn's abilities during the Blood Rite, even though it posed a higher risk to her life compared to allowing Elain to search for the trove, strongly resembles mate-like behavior.
Kinda sorta like Rhys trusting Feyre to go into Spring Court? or hold out her own against the weaver?
After all, show me a mated pair who wouldn't permit their female counterpart to pursue something they desired, and who would openly express their disagreement to their face.
Lastly, I will leave you with this:
And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.
I've read every argument for Elriel to understand the pairing. And I just don't because there is a very solid counterargument that you're just not accepting.
Az's bonus chapter was the final nail to that coffin.
Enjoy your ship. Stop trying to convince me that it'll happen because only SJM would.
And if you don't like Elucien and Gwynriel because it's "same old wash rinse repeat" then that's you having a problem with SJM's writing and favored tropes.
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flowerflamestars · 8 months
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Abattoir snippet
Cassian didn’t know why he did it. He knew these storms like he knew how to breathe- Maybe that was it. An effort, every day, to pull air in to lungs that seem to have forgotten their basic function, careening for listless misery to endless hectic drive, no sky open enough, clear enough, enough- Cassian was across the battlefield when Rhys died, might as well have been miles, and still, the day haunts him. He had loved his High Lord, true. A friend, if difficult- a brother, if only by bloody training. Cassian may no more have seen the whole of Rhys alive than Rhysand had been able to look and see the entire reality of the life Cassian had been living- between two peoples, between an aching dream he knew would break him to possess, what he woke screaming for, between myth and reality, Morrigan pulling him awake. Illyria was not home anymore. Velaris, too quiet. The House of Wind a refuge, still- warm stone and warmer magic, Morrigan quietly running the Court with the selfsame effortlessness as dragging her hands through his hair in benediction. Maybe that was why. It was a particular, excruciating, specific loneliness to be utterly alone in a bed with someone else. A gulf he cannot cross- to have everything he’s ever wanted in this empty, echoing, wretched fucking world and here Cassian still is- Cassian more than five centuries older than the last time and still, just Cassian as he’d been at twenty, tearing his fingers from Azriel’s ever-careful grip to throw himself toward thunder. That light, silver and godsgiven.
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thefaeriecreek · 11 months
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look i just need somebody to let me play a knockoff Link in a dnd campaign, man. lemme be the boy that is the chosen one of legend, lemme be the one the prophecies foretold. you don't understand i need to pull an old sword out of a hunk of granite
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silvreflames · 7 months
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thinking very much about how faerie magic is very tricky and never "3 wishes happily ever after done and done" in that it's always a trade when you make a bargain with a faerie. it's always equal value what you give and what you take when you enter into a faerie boon. and i think that applies to the cauldron/mother as well
and nesta, who took from the cauldron, who ripped out that death and that fatal power and was Made, of course had to relinquish something just as monumental in return. so i think she doesn't have the self-healing abilities that she should as a high fae and in fact pain is quite exacerbated by her powers, meaning if she gets wounded, she heals as if she were still human. and her human conditions remain with her even as high fae as well. which is even more ironic considering that i think healing powers go hand in hand with death powers if only she could hone them :o)
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datmoongamer · 2 years
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wait was Cauldron supposed to be painted as the bad guys? because I agree with them lmao
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viridianevergarden · 2 months
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Here we go again:
People ask “why didn’t Az fight for his love for Elain?”
People ask “If he really loved her like elriels claim then why didn’t he stand up to Rhys?”
People ask “Why didn’t Az try to explain his view?”
I’ll tell you why. Even though it’s been said a million times.
✨Azriel hates himself✨
✨He thinks he’s unworthy of love✨
✨He thinks he’s unworthy of Elain✨
✨He thinks his touch taints her✨
It’s that simple.
Why the hell would he try to combat Rhysand, his High Lord, his dear younger brother and trusted friend, for something that he so badly wants but believes he should not have?
Azriel’s MIND trumps his HEART.
He feels so strongly but his mind is constantly barking at him going “you don’t deserve this”. Of course he’s going to believe that. Depression does that to people. Poor self esteem does that to people. If you don’t get that then you live under a rock.
And in the heat of the moment that solstice night, of course some part of him will have the thought of “maybe just this once”, “I can be selfish this one night”. In that moment, He was thinking with his heart. Not his mind.
He thinks he’s being selfish in allowing his heart to yearn and feel.
And people are dick riding Rhys with the “you feel entitled to her?” Comment?
Azriel doesn’t feel entitled to Elain. Not the way people think he is.
He’s envious of his family. He’s agonizing over it. Not entitled. He has every right to be envious, even though he loves them. He’s questioning his religion, he’s questioning his and her placement, and get this- with ✨logic✨
Observe:
Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.
You can’t tell me you look at 3 brothers and 3 sisters, 2 having been paired up, yet think that the remaining brother and sister aren’t going to be together?
“BuT tHaT’s CLiChe.” Yeah, and? SJM is a cliche writer.
That’s Azriel’s thought process. He’s thinking logically. If there are 3 pairs and 2 pairs of the 3 are mated, then why isn’t the 3rd pair?
That’s not entitlement.
He’s not looking at Elain and thinking “she should be mine”.
Because again, ✨he thinks he’s unworthy of her✨
And Azriel isn’t going to stand there arguing with Rhysand. I wouldn’t either, no matter how much I loved someone. Because that’s his High lord. That’s his brother. He loves and reveres him.
TL;DR: Azriel, despite his feelings, decided to once again put himself last and cast his feelings aside for Rhysand and for everyone else’s betterment. Partially out of loyalty and partially because he, again, thinks he doesn’t deserve Elain’s love. No matter how hurt he is.
He won’t fight for something he thinks he shouldn’t deserve.
Not until he’s proven wrong.
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pixelated-jellifishi · 6 months
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wish i could go out trick r treating rn but unfortunately i have the energy capacity of a sloth and my back already hurts from going around my block :D
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theemporium · 8 months
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james eating you out under your hogwarts skirt in the corner of a corridor 🤭
this could literally have been a whole fic tbh bedjwwbkbf anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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This wasn’t the first time one of the marauders’ shenanigans had gone wrong, and you doubted it would be the last. 
But it was very, very different to their usual fuck ups. 
A lot of the time when something went wrong, it was for one of two reasons: either they got caught long before they could even hatch a plan, or something didn’t work out in their favour. You had seen it time and time again in the years you had been friends with the boys, and it never failed to amuse you.
This had been no different. One of them had a stupid idea, the rest of them encouraged it and the planning began. Despite the close friendship you shared with the boys, they never disclosed any details with you, so you were left sitting with the others as they huddled in the corner of the common room discussing their next prank. And ten minutes later, they were out the door to play out the prank, or so you assumed.
Instead, the boys had returned with sheepish looks on their face and a very fidgety James standing behind them, and it was all because the boys had tried to fuck with amortentia.
They fucked up the ingredients or the process—you still weren’t sure of the details—and it seemed James had taken the brunt of it all when he pushed the others away from the bubbling cauldron. 
However, none of you would realise just what side effects the dodgy potion would have on your boyfriend.
“Oh fuck,” your head hit the wall with a thump as you fought to keep your eyes open. “James, baby, please—”
“My pretty girl,” he groaned as his palms massaged the fat of your thighs, squeezing and pulling as he tugged one of your legs over his shoulder. “Taste so fucking good.”
“James,” you breathed out, your gaze shifting down but your skirt intruded the sight of your boyfriend lapping shamelessly at your cunt. “Someone can see us—”
“Don’t care,” he grumbled, his nose nudging against your sensitive clit until you were almost keeling over him. “Wanna taste my girl, princess. Can’t keep me away from her.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your body was humming with white, hot pleasure and the mere fact that anybody—whether it be a student or a professor or even a fucking ghost—could turn the corner as see your boyfriend pressing you against the wall, kneeling between your legs as he ducked under your skirt to eat you out. 
As it would turn out, the side effect of the dodgy potion made your boyfriend fucking insatiable. You had come more times in the last twenty-four hours than you probably had in the last few weeks, and it was all to do with the fact that James couldn’t get enough of you. 
He had you sprawled across the bed until you whined about other people hearing during the night. He had you bent over the common room couch when the rest of the castle was asleep. He had you pressed against the edge of the tub in the prefect bathrooms in the morning. He had his cock down your throat in the quidditch broom closet. He had you up against one of the windows on the staircase up to the divination tower between classes.
James Potter hadn’t let you have a single break to catch your breath since he was hit with the potion, and it was honestly a shock you were still standing at this point. 
“James, baby, please,” you whined, the noise was pathetic and needy, and something about the fact you could hear him slurping against your wet pussy between your pleas just made the coil in your stomach tighten. “We can’t—”
“Shhh, you can take it,” he murmured as his hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to him until you were slumped against the wall with his face pressed against your cunt. “You’re still dripping, princess, can taste myself inside you.”
“Shit,” you hissed, your eyes clenching shut as your thighs squeezed around his head. “James—”
“Fuck, honey, need to fill you up again,” his voice was needy and whiny as he pulled his head out from under your skirt, his nose and chin and lips glistening with your arousal. Your eyes shifted down to see the way his cock strained in his trousers, how hard he was from simply making you come twice on his tongue. “You gonna help me out, princess? Gonna take my cock again?”
You were exhausted and you didn’t even know if you could stand up any longer, but the sight of your boyfriend pleading on his knees as he palmed his cock had your resolve shattering in seconds. 
“Please, Jamie, fill me up again.”
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when their tsum courts their crush
I write reader as female
Masterlist
♠️ DEUCE SPADE ♠️
i love the fact that tsum tsum deuce is basically delinquent deuce, only smaller and cuddlier
like deuce explains, he’s very aggressive and quick to anger - it has no impulse control and can and will fight (i.e. headbutt/drop itsy bitsy cauldrons on) anyone 
like, unlike its human counterpart, it doesn’t even pretend to behave or be seen in a positive light, let alone act like the model student deuce is aiming for
but, like all things, there is an exception - and that, dear prefect, is you
you see, tsum deuce is an absolute terror to everyone - everyone except you
in fact, the second it sees you entering the rose maze (trey had you on speed dial the second tsum deuce appeared - everyone say ‘thank you, trey’) it comes bounding over to you and just leaps into your arms
and it just…stays there, all happy and content
and you just look down at this tiny, happy little angelic bean in your hands whilst every single person in heartslabyul is just gawking at how this demon just did a complete 180 degrees personality flip the second you showed up
human deuce is absolutely red faced and has suddenly become very interested in the grass whilst everyone is just giving him the biggest side eyes
so you, being the kind-hearted, altruistic person you are, just smile at the bean in your hands and cheerfully inform everyone that you wouldn’t mind babysitting tsum deuce until crowley finds a way home
everyone except deuce (and grim) is happy with this development
now human deuce already finds it hard to talk to girls but he especially finds it difficult whenever you’re around because he’s literally got the biggest crush on you and has been dying to confess but is way too shy to
but tsum deuce? tsum deuce has no such inhibitions
it will cuddle and snuggle and nuzzle up to you, rubbing against your cheek as it sits on your shoulder or hands as it rests in your palms
tsum deuce likes to grow big so that it can 1) be carried around in that child hug carry that parents do and 2) sit on your lap like a bond villain cat so that you can stroke its head and body
human deuce is not happy with either of these
like tsum deuce is just basking in your endless affection and endeared giggles whilst deuce is suffering so much that even ace gives him somewhat-sincere consoling pats on the back whenever you’d call the little tsum ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’ or ‘poppet’ or ‘darling or ‘angel’ or ‘cutie’ - and the list goes on…
what’s worse is that whenever you’re not looking it gives the most deadliest glare to its counterpart and when you turn around it looks back at you like ♡✧(^ ᴗ ^)✧♡
like deuce knows that he’s supposed to keep his head down and nose clean like a good little honour student but his delinquent switch is wobbly on even the best of days and seeing you be so happily touchy-feely with that smug little rascal really does not help those buried instincts
don’t get him wrong, he’s flustered beyond belief at the sight of you being so affectionate to his lookalike but his annoyance and jealousy take precedence 
it all comes to a head when the cheeky bugger decides that its had enough of just receiving your kisses and just full on plants his ‘mouth’ on your lips
it takes everything in deuce to not full on punt it into the sun - especially when you look so flustered as a result, a gorgeous blush spreading across your features as you giggle at the little thing
deuce narrows his eyes - game on
❤️ ACE TRAPPOLA ❤️
@disney when are we getting tsum tsum ace? He’s the only first year to not have a marketable plushie
now ace has no problem with you being affectionate to his tsum
at first
you see ace and his tsum get along very well since they have very similar personalities
the two knaves of hearts just love causing trouble and making mischief together 
but being so similar means that at some point they’ve got to clash 
and clash they do >:)
when you come strolling in, tsum ace happily greets you and you, having been filled in on the situation (“thank you, Trey”), are more than happy to keep it entertained so you pet it and coddle it and dole out your sweet affection
and, honestly, it was a huge ego boost to see his crush being so sweet with a smaller version of himself 
of course, he’s going to be all ace about it and tease you like “why are you so affectionate with mini me? do you have a crush on me or something? don’t worry, i understand - i guess i’m too irresistible even as a tsum” with his signature grin
but then the novelty is very quick to wear off when practically all of your attention is being given to the little bean - especially when he realises that his tsum has just as big as a crush on you as he does, and he’s very quick to act on it
like human ace, tsum ace flirts by peacocking, living off of your praise like it’s the oxygen it breathes
and unlike human ace, tsum ace doesn’t tease you, which kind of gives him a head start 
basically tsum ace is an ace who doesn’t hide his insecurities and feelings for you behind a guarded wall of playful teasing and fake carelessness
it would show off by doing card tricks for you, using its own miniature deck it got from seven knows where to do all sorts of tricks - that do genuinely impress you 
and with every successful trick you’d clap your hands with stars in your eyes and fondly coo at it
and it would eat all of your praise up – with every flirty behaviour you would enable it with more positive reinforcement, spurring it to get bolder and bolder and ace is absolutely dying next to you
ace has a habit of ruffling your hair so tsum ace likes to sit on your head as you go about your day and everyone can swear they see sparkles surrounding the two of you
(ace doesn’t notice because that’s what you look like to him anyway)
you even gave mini ace the glacé cherry on the iced bun you had for dessert that day, hand-feeding the sweet fruit right into the little tsum’s mouth right in front of Ace’s cherry pie (and no, not even the taste of his favourite food can wash away the bitterness corroding his tongue at the sight of you and his tsum getting all buddy-buddy, not when something so much sweeter is just out of his reach)
quit paying attention to it! doesn’t it have its own y/n to flirt with?!
then, at one point, tsum ace has conjured up a tiny rose and has gifted it to you
“for me,” you smile at the tsum and the tsum nods, happily jumping up and down in front of you, “oh you shouldn’t have.”
you carefully take the rose from the tsum and gently pick the tsum up and place a kiss right on its head
“thank you, tsum ace,” you say, giggling with fondness, “that’s for being such a sweetheart.”
ace’s hand clenches around his magic pen and he swears right then and there that it’s no more mister nice guy – no more hiding behind poorly crafted taunts in fear of what ifs
he’s confessing to you by the end of the day even if it kills him
🦁 LEONA KINGSCHOLAR 🦁
honestly, leona couldn’t care less about the little things that came from the sky - not his circus, not his monkeys
though he was kind of miffed when his dorm thought he had turned into that stubby little thing 
he’s surrounded by idiots
he just palmed his own tsum off to ruggie and went off to the botanical gardens to nap
it was during one of his relaxation sessions that he heard your voice, only you were talking to someone 
turns out that ‘someone’ was his own tsum that was happily snoozing on your shoulder
apparently the little guy didn’t take kindly to being babysat by ruggie so it literally hunted you down and refused to leave your side
you didn’t see any problem with this
so you just continued on with your day with a tiny version of the big kitty of savanaclaw 
please understand that leona is a very jealous and greedy lion - he gets incredibly possessive if stray cats get close to you, let alone when you shower Grim with your affection - and now there’s an equally as greedy mini leona that’s demanding your attention
like it made it clear that it was trying to monopolize your attention, tail swaying in delight as you would pet its head or play with its ears - all things that you’d do with the bigger leona
it would jump up and press its head against your forehead, cheeks and mouth so you would kiss it back with your own lips (and leona just looks at the little judas all betrayed because you’ve never kissed him ever and he’s just so angry and jealous that he doesn’t even tease you about it)
so instead of spending time with him, where he rests his head on your thighs as you weave your fingers through his hair, you’re playing around with the tsum, giving it the affection that was rightfully his
at one point, it was still dozing off so you placed it nice and snug in the breast pocket of your blouse, making Leona’s right eye twitch uncontrollably when he could tell that the little deviant wasn’t even actually sleeping
honestly, he scoffs, faking sleep is the oldest trick in the book - and he knows that because he uses it on you all the time
you even played chess with it, and to leona’s surprise it was actually pretty good, only his slight amusement at watching you lose was tainted by how you were suddenly praising it for being such a good player - he’s good too! praise him!
he had finally reached his limit when his tiny doppelganger used its growing abilities to be large enough for you to wrap your arms around and bury your face into, your lovely features smiling in content as you happily sleep, unaware of the burning jealousy and intense scowl leona is giving the tsum in your embrace, or of the smug satisfaction said tsum is radiating
now leona is a man of strategy, of patiently waiting until it’s the right time to pounce, so for now he’ll just settle at baring his fangs at the little runt - he’s spent his entire life being second best (both to his brother, his nephew, that damned lizard), there is no way he’s going to be outshone by a furball that has no idea of the hierarchy of the food chain here. you’re the one thing in his life that he refuses to have taken away, even if it is by himself
and when you wake up?
you better be prepared
💙 IDIA SHROUD 💙
tsum tsum idia is such a sweetheart
while it does have idia’s social anxiety, he does hang around with you through the halls though by ‘hang around’ he’s usually buried in your pockets
tsum idia doesn’t have og idia’s fire hair but it does run naturally warm, which makes it the perfect warm pillow for you to snuggle with
idia didn’t have any strong feelings for his tsum. ortho loved it and it made you happy and that was it.
but it soon became a problem when it made you too happy
you see, idia had made a tiny little tablet so that you could play with the tsum whilst he was busy doing one of his own games
and like his counterpart, the tsum was good
too good
so good that you kept on praising it and snuggling with it every time it won
and apparently the tsum was in possession of some preloaded charm stats because it would keep on endearing you by texting you blue heart emojis or cute stickers that would make you coo at it
and watching you be so outwardly affectionate to someone that wasn’t ortho or grim definitely stung inside
even if that someone was a cuter, cuddlier, plush bean version of himself
so he just amped up the volume in his headset to drown out the sounds of your laughter and continued playing as he internally lamented how he was such a boring otaku that even a tsum has better moves than him
when it got late and you were about to leave (much to idia’s disappointment), you stood up only for the tsum to jump onto your shoulder and happily jump in place
“oh,” you giggle, “do you want to come to ramshackle with me?”
the tsum jumped up and down, indicating yes
“alright then,” you smile and turn to idia, “i guess we’ll see yo-”
“no-” he blurted out, the ends of his hair bursting into pink at the sudden silence that envelops the room, “i-i mean, you can stay. here. not here my room here - like here in ignihyde here. we have a spare room. unless you’d like to sleep over here in my room. if you want to that is. you don’t have to if you don’t want to infactyoucanforgetievensaidanythingohmysevenwhydidihavetoopenmymouth-”
“it’s okay, idia, i understand,” you say, “looks like we’re having a sleepover!”
maybe he should be a bit braver more often
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utterlyazriel · 4 months
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how long have i searched for you?
azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong. word count: 4.6k & god bless @strangerstilinski for making this fic ever get written <3
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Though he'd deny it if ever asked, most of all to Cassian, there was a part of Azriel that had spent years upon years yearning for what it would be like when he met his mate.
A chance encounter. A friend of a friend. A shared look across a crowded room, your eyes catching, where you both suddenly just know.
A thousand possible ways to meet, to find each other. Azriel had run every scenario through his head, ten times over, both soothed and aching at the dreadful mixture of hope and doubt he had. With his rotten luck, he was probably doomed to a life without ever finding his mate. If he even had one.
However, in all his years of hoping and wishing, not once could he say that he'd imagined meeting his mate the way he did.
In a flash; a brush up during the battle of Velaris, where you, a healer, had stumbled into his life. There had been only a moment amongst all the chaos, where this deep strong pull had risen in his chest, glowing and hot like he'd never felt before.
His head had snapped around, finding the source in a heartbeat. Everything leading to you.
But it hadn't been the time, no matter that you had clearly felt it too, the glow, the pull, given away with your wide eyes and parted lips. Battle was being sieged on Velaris and despite every instinct in Azriel that roared at him to stay with you, to take you from the danger, he had a duty to fulfill.
And then, even once the battle finished, the war was waged and won, when was there time? Azriel could feel it in him, the yearning that seemed to sing from his very blood — he itched to go find you. However, there was still much to do, still orders from Rhys to carry out, mission and meetings to attend to.
Besides, you hadn't sought him out either.
So, when the chaos calmed finally and he finally had time to breathe, Azriel did not seek you out. He waited. He longed.
But if you wished to stay away and never see him, then Azriel would respect it. He would never impose on your life if you did not wish it, no matter how long he had waited for his mate.
One month of quiet life rolled on.
Today, the weather in Velaris greatly contrasted his state. Exhausted from his mission and a tad more scratched up that he had hoped to be, Azriel feels like a cloud on the city's sparkling sky. He's dirty, half soaked, and probably dripping blood and mud all over the tiles.
Gods, he was tired.
The fly back to the House of Wind had been harder, his landing a little ungraceful due to the slices he bore on his wings. Not the worst of his injuries but still, they throbbed painfully and Azriel felt the rivets of rain and blood trickling along them. His wings gave a little shudder and even his shadows seemed to droop.
"And he returns—" Cassian's voice announced his arrive before his feet had even touched onto the balcony. Upon the sight of his brother, hunched and not his usual self, his tone shifted quickly. "Holy Cauldron, what happened to you?"
Azriel bristled, schooling away his sneer at the thought of the fight he just won. He rolled his shoulders back, biting back his wince at the tenderness of his wounds, and grimaced.
"Same thing that always does, brother."
Cassian frowned, his concern evident with the furrow between his brows. "You're going to see a healer."
His tanned hand gestured to Azriel's drooping wing. His question was more of an instruction. Azriel felt apprehension roll through him, torn between the sweet relief he know would come with having his wounds tended to and the first healer he could think of: you.
He shook the thought away. Nearly two months since he'd first seen you had passed and he found himself infuriated with how his brain seemed intent on taunting him. You pervaded his thoughts just as frequently as you did on that first day, even with your distance.
"Madja does not reside here anymore."
"So?" Cassian pressed. "Gods, I will take you myself if I must."
Azriel huffed. He knew Cassian could make good on his words and as another ache rippled through his back, making every slice on his skin known, he let himself relent. Besides, what were the chances of his healer being you?
"I will go." Azriel replied, straightening up his slumped shoulders. A hint of smugness crossed Cassian's face before he smiled, genuine as he lay his hand on Azriel's shoulder.
"Before you go," Cassian said, beginning to grin. "Did you wipe the floor with them?"
Azriel's lips quirked, a semblance of a smile. He inhaled, preparing himself for one more course of travel before he could rest. "Of course."
The second flight had agony clawing deeper within his wings, a protest with every strong beat of them, as he flew to the Apothecary down amongst the city's heart. The surging pain fought for his attention, like a poison writhing beneath his bones, and Azriel was nearly embarrassed at his hard landing.
It was loud, his boots slamming down into the pavement before the Apothecary, his wings flaring to catch him. He could feel the tremor in his muscles, each leg held taut. He looked up at his destination.
The building before him was a sage green, white trims around each of the windows. Within, through the panes of glass, Azriel could see a healer jump at his sudden entrance. His shadows wisped around him rapidly, as though they might soften his abrupt interruption.
Azriel straightened up, tucking his wings in as he reined himself in. He could feel his emotions boiling up within him, swirling and rising as he peered in the window before him. Apprehension tinged with something he wouldn't acknowledge, something too close to hope.
The glow in his chest was back. You must be near.
Azriel wasn't sure what was winning; the absolute urge to follow the tug on his chest to find the person on the other end of it, or the part of him that would prefer never knowing if you wanted him or not.
The bell above the door jingled quietly as he pushed it open. He was careful to mind his mess, far too aware of how he was tracking half a mountain of dirt in with him. Eyes scanned over each thing in the room, calculating in a way he always was.
Around him, his shadows had gotten zippier, darting about and back to him; as though, they too, could sense the nearness of his mate.
The Fae behind the counter stared, wide-eyed, whether at his shadows or simply himself. Azriel willed them to calm as best he could. They were being unnaturally eager to leave his side.
"Hello," Azriel started, unsure on the proper procedures. He wondered if just gesturing to himself might work. The Fae behind the counter, a fair women with dark hair, seemed to finally shake herself out of it.
"Hello!" She amended her behaviour quickly. Her hand waved behind her, gesturing to the corridor that stretched out behind her. "Let's do something about those wounds. If you head down and take the last door on the left, y/n will be available to get you on the mend."
The name she spoke sent a pang through Azriel and he wondered, he hoped, if a name that beautiful could potentially belong to you. Maybe, he would be better to request someone else, if it was you down the end of the hall. Hesitance kept him rooted to the floor. His eyes sweeping down the hall and back to the Fae woman before him.
"Thank you," He finally murmured. His began walking, passing the counter and heading down the hallway — mindful of his drooping, tired wings that threatened to leave a trail behind him.
Final door on the left. Azriel paused before it, deciding to knock before he entered. He could hear someone inside, bustling around in the space. His knuckles grazed against the door.
"Come in!"
A voice like honey called out, wrapping around him like the softest silk, every nerve in him trilling and burning. Azriel swallowed heavily, knowing who must be on the other side of that door. He should walk back up that hallway. He shouldn't go through this door. He should give you the privacy you so clearly desire.
And yet, the warm glow in his chest urged him forward, urged him closer, and Azriel couldn't resist being selfish. Just this once, just to see you once more. He pushed the door open and slid silently in the room.
You're everything.
Gods, as he laid his eyes on you now, Azriel had to commend himself for ever managing to keep himself from you. You’re ethereal — and the glowing tug on his chest had expanded ten-fold as you turned to face him, every ounce of his being yearning, aching, to be closer to you.
Azriel was a strong man but even he couldn’t help the way his body swayed closer, a ripple passing through his wings subtly. They gave a tiny shake behind him. His shadows seemed to be dancing across his shoulders, gleeful in their wispy movements.
Even his pain had been put aside for this moment — dialed down to barely a twinge as he drunk in the sight of you before him, his eyes scouring your face for every detail he could, lest it be the only time he got to.
Faintly, he felt his lips twitch. His hands curled up at his sides, a minuscule motion. You’re… very beautiful. You’re everything he’s been waiting for — and Azriel is sure that shine of the night sky he adores so reverently is rivaled only by your eyes.
“I—” He remembered himself, the word rasping out before he could stop it. He realised he was not sure what he intended to say. “Forgive me.”
You seem perplexed by his words if the wrinkle between your eyebrows was an indication.
One of his shadows snaked down his arm, flitting out to meet you and Azriel felt himself flush slightly. He called it back sternly and silently — only more embarrassed when it didn’t listen, circling your wrist and tickling its way up your arm.
But there was no apprehension in your face, nor in your laugh which felt like a shot of espresso to his system, as his shadows continued badgering you. Something close to mortification crept up his neck as two more shadows darted out to join the first, curling excitedly around your neck like a lover would.
“My apologies,” Azriel forced his mouth to work. “They are not usually so… misbehaved.”
You waved him off, another laugh tittering from your mouth as a shadow curled over your ear. Surprisingly, whether through some bond or not, he knew that you were not afraid of him in any sense.
Your hand waved him over to the table set up for patients, ushering him over. “That’s alright. You can tell me what I’m to forgive you for as I look over your wounds.”
Azriel didn’t move. His feet felt rooted to the floor, heart turning itself inside out. Did you not know? Could you not feel it? Were you simply sweet enough that you would still tend to him, heal him, even though you knew and had decided to keep your distance?
“I…” He selected his words carefully, watching you closely. “I did not wish to make you see me if it was not on your own terms."
You were setting up your items on a silver tray beside the medical table and when you looked over your shoulder, you seemed confused that he hadn’t moved. You urged him over with a jerk of your chin and a smile that melted through his chest, hot like candle wax.
“Nonsense.” You patted the table invitingly. “C'mon, you’re dripping blood on my floors.”
His politeness had him standing up straighter, wings bunching up as he realised they had begun to drag along the ground. It was the thing that finally got him to move, his feet stepping forward in an instant.
“I’m—”
“Kidding. I was kidding.” You intercept his apology easily, eyes bright.
Something preens within him at how you knew what he would say so soon within meeting him. Azriel took another step and let himself sink down onto the padded table, his wings resting gently around him. Even seeing you, talking to you, is not enough to chase away his fatigue. You hand him a clean cloth to clear the muck from his face and he does so silently.
“Are you fit to remove your leathers?” You asked, your gaze turned analytic as you scanned over his muscled body for his injuries.
Azriel nodded, not trusting his voice. As each piece of armor was pulled off, not a wince in sight, he was surprised at the flustering feeling within him. It was light, just a ball of nervousness, tinged with embarrassment, in his chest — which made no sense. As he pulled the final layer of clothing from his chest, Azriel realised that this feeling wasn’t coming from him.
You were staring as politely as you could, eyes darting around the injuries scattered across his torso but with a nervous flush to you. Your eyes flitted across his chest, once, twice. Barely a glimpse— something that would’ve gone unnoticed if he was not the spymaster of this court.
Azriel couldn’t resist. “Everything alright?”
If he had made voice a tad gruffer than usual, that was between him and the Cauldron.
“Yes.” You smiled at him again and it nearly made him miss the pinch in your voice. Nearly. “Just thinking that if you look like this, I hardly want to imagine the other guys.”
Azriel bit back his smile, only half succeeding in hiding it. It was wiped as you finally stepped closer, examining him properly. A furrow between your brows. Azriel could feel the hot burning want to smooth it out with his thumb, to take your worry from you.
His shadows had slipped further from him, more and more of them following your gentle hands as you skimmed atop his skin, deep in thought. They swirled around your hands, festering where you were nearly touching him, and Azriel desperately willed them to relax. They did not obey.
“The shadows,” He began, already apologetic.
Your eyes flashed to his and then back on the laceration splitting the skin on his shoulder. You pulled one of your hands back, just an inch, focusing on how the shadows followed you. Tiny wisps dancing around your hand, light touches that reminded you of a thousand tiny kisses.
“It’s alright.” You hummed, sweet with a smile. “They’re sort of lovely.”
And if Azriel had felt your momentary fluster, he had no doubt he would be unable to hide the swell of surprise within him.
You finally pulled your hands back, beginning to circle around the table to take a closer look at his wings. Azriel couldn’t repress his shiver at the thought— his mate, so close to something so precious to him. He was torn between emotions; his body buzzing at the thought of your touch and his mind adamant that you wanted to keep your distance for a reason.
“I must say, I have heard of Illyrian wings before,” Your voice breathed over his shoulder, distracted by the view. Without meaning to, Azriel’s wings gave a little twitch. “But never seen them this close. They’re very beautiful.”
Azriel blinked and willed himself to remain neutral even if all his shadows seemed to give him away; their flitterings only increased at your words.
He bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Then there was a soft touch along the leathery skin of his wing, your fingers, tentative and gentle. Azriel swallowed the noise in his throat. His wings gave another involuntary shiver.
“Is it alright to… touch?”
It’s sweet of you to ask even though he’s sure you’ll have no way of healing him if he says no. Azriel steeled himself, forcing himself to remain neutral.
“Yes,” He murmured. The wounds across his torso had already begun to heal themselves, his Fae blood clotting and knitting the skin back together at an achingly slow pace. He was too tired to heal himself properly. He had known his wings would require the most attention.
It was an effort not to jump when your touch returned, tiny fingertips that felt startlingly warm suddenly. Azriel could feel the tendrils of your magic as it poured out through your fingers, a healing salve to the agony of his wings. It felt so good he struggled to not sigh aloud, his scarred hands flexing in his lap.
“You know,” You began, voice quiet. “I was hoping you might seek me out but perhaps, for a less painful reason.”
While Azriel fought to keep his head from snapping around, his shadows did no such thing— all of them jumping from their usual hiding place. He swatted at them, mortified at how revealing they seemed to be in your presence.
Still, there was no battling away the kernel of hope that sat deep in the pit of his stomach, mixed tightly with disbelief.
Another touch along his wings, another warming healing glow. Azriel cleared his throat and fought to keep his voice even.
“You were… waiting for me?”
Gods, he couldn’t have sounded more pathetic if he tried. But his head was spinning, the glowing pull on his chest tightening, the kernel growing larger and larger. You were waiting for him, you were waiting for him.
“Of course, why would I not be?”
“I…” He had never been so lost for words in all his centuries of living. Never sure how deep the rift within him ran, a part of him convinced that the reason he had not found a mate in all his time was because he had not deserved one.
“I did not want to impose on you, I know that not all—”
It was all coming out wrong. Azriel reined in his rampant emotions, the swirling of his shadows dimming for a moment. Your hands had paused their ministrations on his wings, listening intently. He couldn’t bear to turn to face you as he spoke.
“I wanted to give you space to decide yourself. To leave the decision in your hands. Because I would understand if—”
He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. Voicing it, suggesting the possibility of you hoping and waiting for a mate all your life, just as he did, only to be disappointed that discover it was him— he couldn’t say it aloud.
He was sure you must be able to feel his fear and clamped his mental shields down as tight as he could. He would not guilt you into this.
“I can see why the Mother made us mates.” You mused after a moment.
Azriel nearly shuddered at the word, at you referring to him at your mate so casually— a yawning chasm of want spreading over his entire body. Gently, slowly, your hands began to work again.
“Here I was,” you continued, voice light and hands warm. “Thinking that, maybe, the shadowsinger had his duties and would come find me if he wished. And that I would understand if he never came to find me at all.”
This time, Azriel could not resist turning around to see your face. His heart ached terribly to hear what you had thought. His shadows spun around his shoulders and as he turned, they twisted and ran for you.
“No,” He said severely. He couldn’t help the way he shook his head, like a petulant child but you were just so wrong. “No, I— I’m sorry, I never meant for you to think— please forgive me.”
Despite his evident distress, you smiled easily with a little shake of your head. “There is nothing to forgive. It would be, well, almost hypocritical if I let you apologise for doing the same thing I did to you.”
Amongst his relief, Azriel felt his chest pulse in adoration, a smile forming on his lips. Twisted back on the table, your hands mending along his wings, the thing he’d wanted for — had spent so many years envisioning — finally finding him. He would not have it any other way.
“I’ve waited for you for five hundred years.” He croaked.
Your eyes widened a fraction and you blinked owlishly at him for a moment as his words sunk in.
“Well,” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly. Azriel could feel the nervousness radiating off you in waves. “I hope after that all that waiting it wasn’t too underwhelming—”
“It wasn’t.” He interrupted. “It isn’t. You’re…”
It was an effort to restraint himself — to not be too much, too soon.
“Despite the knots we both seemed to tie ourselves in,” He huffed a silent laugh, melting as you relaxed too. “Please believe me when I say I would not have it anything other way.”
You glowed, a sweet emotion singing from you so loudly that Azriel couldn’t not feel it. You hadn’t accepted the bond yet and still… he could feel the strong emotions as they rippled through you. Joy. He was so happy that it was joy, more than anything else. His shadows seemed to be split between the two of you, protecting you as much as they did himself.
Then suddenly, your eyes widened again, as if another thought had occurred to you.
“Wait a minute, five hundred years?” You repeated his words back to him with an air of disbelief. “You’re an old man!”
His laugh escaped him before he could capture it, entranced at your delightful quick wit. Your eyes were bright, your pretty mouth pulled into your smile.
The ache in his wings had dulled almost completely and Azriel absentmindedly noticed you had managed to heal up the majority of his wounds during your conversation. They fluttered appreciatively and your eyes darted back down to them.
“Is that to be a problem?” He teased lightly.
Your obvious flustering pooled off you, sliding down along the bond even as he felt you desperately trying to curb it. Even then, you couldn’t resist another glimpse at his toned back.
He certainly didn’t look like an old man— not with the taut tan muscles of his back, his large biceps, nor his handsome young face. His hazel eyes watched playfully as you allowed yourself one long look over him.
“Nope,” you said decisively, pressing down your grin. You held your hands up defensively, as if it would aid your point. “No problems here.”
Your footsteps were light as you rounded the table to face him from the front, your healing job completed. For a quiet moment, Azriel could only stare — holding his breath, waiting.
He schooled away any thoughts of how much it would hurt to part from you, now that he had finally found you, and spoke again.
“It doesn’t have to be now.” He said, hazel eyes fixed on your own. He made sure his emotions were unwavering, that you would not feel swayed to spare his feelings. A shadow skittered across your shoulder.
“I want you to be sure. I would never want you to feel as though you had no choice. We— I can wait, I have waited years for you, I can—”
His words were smothered in his own breathy gasp as you reached out, one finger trailing across the peak of his wing. Something like pure desire shot down his spine and he did everything in his power to hold in his growl.
“Something told me that would get you to stop talking.” You said, with a hint of teasing.
A seriousness flicked across your face, settling into your expression as you took in the male before you, your mate — and you could feel his want, the enormity of his yearning trickling down the bond— and yet, you knew that he would walk away from it in a second if you asked him to.
You had no intention of doing any such thing.
“While you may have me beat on the waiting,” You said softly. It didn’t feel right when you’ve only just met him to reach out, but the urge swims within you anyways.
You reached out to touch his face, your hand as soft and warm as a sunbeam on his skin.
“I do not wish to extend that waiting for any longer, my mate.”
Your words had an instant effect, a shudder that passed across his face, eyes fluttering, the flick of his wings spreading out and forwards, as though reaching for you. You kept your hand steady.
Azriel allowed himself to lean into your touch. Allowed every feeling to flow down the warm tug in his chest, over the bridge that kept him inexplicably connected to you — overwhelming bouts of relief, of love, all of it unrestrained. And he could feel you on the other end, meeting it all with the softest, kindest assurance.
“Can…” He murmured, nearly embarrassed. He would have been if you were looking at him any way other than completely adored. His shadows had finally slowed, soft caressing motions along your shoulders and neck. He dared to ask. “Would you say it once more?”
You smiled, brighter than the sun and softer than moonlight, unable to resist your temptation to get nearer to him. You inched closer, letting yourself breathe in the scent of him greedily, knowing he was doing the same. Both of you desperate to memorise each other, despite knowing you had forever to come.
Your nose brushed his and you nuzzled against it gently, eyes sliding closed. Azriel released a shaky breath, his scarred hands clenching tightly in his lap, terribly overwhelmed in a way he’d never been before. If you had peeked over his shoulder, you might have seen the slight quiver in his wings.
“Azriel,” you whispered. “My mate.”
The shadows around both of you suddenly laid down very still, as if they had encountered a feeling within their master that had not yet before; a calming tranquility. The moment lingered as you let your words sink in, watching his closed eyes. You let yourself steal this moment with him.
“Though,” you pulled back from him, watching his hazel eyes open again. The shadows around him picked up, lazily flitting around. “If you want to get all cleaned up before dinner, you best head home soon.”
“Dinner.” Azriel repeated, the smallest scrunch between his eyes.
You stepped back from him, smoothing your hands down your front almost nervously— but no, it was closer to excitement, he realised.
“Dinner, yes.” Azriel said, catching on, his wings flaring out for just a moment. You grinned, endeared entirely by all his little tells despite his apparently stony demeanour. You could see him beneath it, the soft kind Male that the Mother had made for you.
“It would be an honour.” He added seriously, finally getting to his feet, preparing to leave. You ached at the thought — but more of you preened, knowing you would see him not long after. His seriousness made you laugh.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda intense?”
Azriel smiled, his shadows moving more deftly now. “And yet, never has it sounded so sweet as it does coming from you.”
You flushed and it was made entirely worse by the chuckle you felt down his end of the bond. You jabbed him in the shoulder, a bit miffed when he didn’t sway in the slightest.
“Alright, no more mud on my floors.” You ordered, faux serious as you pointed to the door. “I will see you later tonight.”
“Promise?” He asked, once more to check— but mostly to see that elated grin he was already falling in love with.
“I swear on my mate." You promised back, delighted when he grinned — properly, teeth and all — and you stole one final glance at your forever as he disappeared out the door.
part two here
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