Pushing The Limits (Part 7)

Pushing the Limits (Part 7)

Summary: You take your first mission alone just to have interrupted

Azriel x Reader

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Azriel sat in Rhysand’s office while he waited on Cassian, Amren and Mor, the latter being home for a short time before heading back to the continent. His mind drifted to you as it usually did in its spare but it did nothing but annoy him. You both continued with hateful remarks as if the two of you weren’t in bed together multiple times a week, making him believe that you truly did hate him despite that. 

Each time, you left before he could even try fully to catch his breath and that by itself confused the hell out of him. He hadn’t come across a woman yet that had him constantly going back to them. For all of his plans of making you beg, he was the one that came to you each and every time over the course of two months. After his first taste of you, he was unable to stop the pull that kept him coming back for more.

“Heard from Y/N?” Cassian’s voice filled the room as he walked in with Rhys. “I haven’t heard from her.”

“She’s been gone for two days, Cass,” Rhysand sighed. “She can handle herself.”

“What?” Azriel asked, his face falling into an icy calm while his teeth grinded together.

“Rhys sent her to do some scouting near the coast,” Mor answered as she passed through the doorway.

Both Cassian and himself had been busy with different war camps over the last week so he had no idea what was going on around him. He wondered what the point of being the spymaster of the court was if he wasn’t privy to this sort of information. There were different looks from each of his family members and he felt like they were reading him like a book. He would never admit it to them but he had realized that it had never been hate on his part but simply his way of keeping his own feelings at bay and to keep you at arm’s length.

“If I didn’t know any better, Az.” He glanced at Mor who was smirking at him. “I’d say you’re worried.”

“I’m saying that she isn’t equipped for scouting or spying,” he replied coolly. “She may know how to use a sword-”

“She isn’t even fighting,” Cassian huffed. “It’s just scouting-”

“And I was sure, personally, that she had everything that she needed,” Rhys continued. “She wants to work.”

“She wants to prove herself is more like it.”

Azriel glanced at Amren, wanting to frown as he wondered if his words two months ago had truly bothered you despite the fact that you had assured him that it hadn’t. The shadow that liked to stay with you had returned to him two days ago and he assumed that it was your way of being sure that you weren't being watched like a child. Deciding to stay quiet on the subject, he did his best to stay patient. There was no way that he was going to let you do this job on your own, not when it could be extremely dangerous and even more so with the winter upon them.

“She’ll be back in a couple of days, Az,” Cassian said as they exited the river house. 

“That is for Rhysand to worry about.” He moved to launch into the skies but his brother stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let your feelings for her cloud your judgment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You act like I can’t smell her all over you some mornings.” Cassian rolled his eyes when he glared at him. “Coming to training smelling like sex.”

Azriel refused to entertain the conversation just like he refused to do with the feelings that were beginning to rise. He shot into the skies before he could be stopped, wondering how to end their situation even though his heart clenched at the thought. Once he was out of sight, he sent his shadows out in hopes that he could find you.

**

You were freezing and exhausted as you continued your way through the snow while being sure to cover your tracks the best that you could. It was a simple job for the most part and you had only come across resistance once. The three rogue Hybern soldiers were easy enough to defeat and it left nothing but bodies and blood in your wake. This job was a saving grace because you felt as if you were going crazy with being cooped up in Velaris. As much as you loved the city, you needed to get out and do something that would benefit not just your court, but the entirety of Prythian. It wasn’t anything close as good as what Mor was doing and you had half of a mind to ask Rhys if you could go back with her.

The thought made your heart hurt a bit because you would miss home. It nagged at you because you subconsciously knew it wasn’t home that you’d miss, but Azriel. You had made the mistake only once of staying in his bed because you were already so exhausted when he pulled you into his room. The strength and challenging determination wasn’t there that night and it had been your downfall. Waking up with his arms around you, keeping you pressed tightly against him, was when the feelings came rushing in like a dam had broken. 

You did your best to keep those feelings locked in a titanium box pushed down deep inside of you but on some nights when you were alone, they made their way back up. It didn’t help that his shadow stayed with you as much as it could. You had sent it away before this mission simply because you couldn’t take it anymore, the tiny shadow reminding you too much of him when you were trying to forget him. 

The sun was beginning its descent in the sky so you began to look for a refuge for the night. You had caught glances of the creatures of the night and none of them were anything that you wanted to face head on. Multiple soldiers were okay but those things from hell were not. Breathing a sigh of relief when you found a small cave, you stepped in to sit your bag down just as you heard a rustling close by. Pulling your sword, you barely saw the glint of the sun off of a sword. A fight wasn’t something that you wanted now but you still welcomed it all the same.

Your first fight had been three but this time it was five and it felt a little daunting since you were alone. Reminding yourself that you were well trained, you crept forward and managed to sneak up on one to stab him in the back. The noise that came from him was enough to draw the attention of the remaining four and you were suddenly being charged. Steel against steel echoed in the woods around you and you managed a lucky shot to slice one across the throat. 

The one right behind him charged and all that you could do was block and push back against the weight. Just as you were about to begin your maneuver to disarm him, dark shadows clouded your vision which caused you to lose balance. The soldier's sword came down, slashing on your shoulder which had a scream leave you. All that you could do was fall on the ground as the red of your blood seeped into the white snow that was around you.

It was all that you could do to keep yourself awake and seeing Azriel fighting the three soldiers at once. In your protective nature and need to help, you pulled your dagger and slung it as hard as you could. A new darkness clouded your vision once you were sure it went straight through a soldier's head before giving in.

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @i-am-infinite @acourtofbatboydreams @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook

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Hidden Messages in Foreign Languages

Summary: Regulus tells the reader how he feels but it's all in french much to her frustration.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Y/N balanced her books precariously in her arms as she walked to the Charms classroom. She should've known better than to try and study between classes but with NEWTs so close she'd wanted to get in as much studying as she could.

She turned the corner to the doorway when she collided with something solid. Her foot slipped and her books fell out of her arms. She braced herself to hit the ground but two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

"Are you alright?" A masculine voice asked her worriedly.

She looked up into a pair of grey eyes that belonged to none other than Regulus Black. The very same, Regulus Black that she'd thought was way too good looking to be legal.

He was wearing a woodsy cologne that made her dizzy, her face had been in his chest when he'd caught her and she'd gotten a full breath of it from his soft robes.

"Yes, thanks for keeping me on my feet," she told him with a forced laugh. She knew that she had to be blushing bright red by this point.

He shook his head and released her, "It was no problem."

His eyes followed her as she bent to pick up the books that she'd dropped. She looked them over for damages and was relieved when she couldn't find any on them.

He extended a hand to her in aid and she grabbed it as she stood up. He kept his grip on her hand for a moment before releasing it and looking at her, eyes gleaming.

"What is it?" She asked.

He shrugged, "Tu es tout simplement la plus belle femme que j'aie jamais vue."

Y/N's head turned slightly to the side, "I don't know what that means."

"I know," he said, smiling as he turned and left her standing in the doorway.

She watched his retreating form before disappearing into the Charm's classroom.

-

Y/N laughed as she mixed her milk into her tea.

"I'm serious, Y/N! All I have to do is convince her that we're destined to be together," Barty told her as he stared dreamily at the blonde girl seated further down the table.

"I have complete faith in you," she told him.

He opened his mouth to continue but was inturrupted by the quidditch team taking their seats around them.

"Rosier! How was practice?" Barty asked, shoving his friend who fell into the seat next to him.

"It would've been better if Black hadn't been so keen on dragging us through every problem with the last match," Evan replied with a mock-glare toward his best friend who had sat down next to Y/N.

Regulus shrugged, "How are we supposed to win if everytime we have a longer practice everyone can't handle it."

Y/N nodded, "He makes a good point."

Evan turned to look at her, "You would choose his side over mine?"

Y/N's eyes flickered between the three of them, "Aren't you all on the same side?"

Barty nodded in agreement and Y/N turned to meet Regulus gaze that had turned warm on her face.

"Am I wrong?" She asked.

Regulus smirked, "Tes yeux petillent comme les etoiles et je me sens enchante par eux."

She shook her head at him, "You know I don't speak french."

His smirk grew bigger, "That's not my fault."

Y/N ignored him and turned to the two people across from them who were looking at Regulus with wide eyes.

She focused on Evan, "You know what he said, don't you?"

He nodded and Barty avoided her eye contact.

She started to ask for a translation but was inturrupted by Regulus.

"If you tell her what I said, I'll make today's practice look like a warm-up," his voice didn't waver in his threat.

Evan's eyes widened, "Sorry Y/N."

-

The class murmured restlessly as the wardrobe stood alone in the middle of the room.

The DADA professor for this year paced quietly in front of it as he let the muttering grow just a bit louder.

"Who can tell me what a boggart is?" He asked, effectively silencing any conversation.

Evan raised his hand, "A boggart is a shape-shifter that takes on the charcteristics of the observer's worst fears."

"Excellent! 5 points to Slytherin," his loud voice echoed.

Y/N shared an uneasy look with Pandora who was seated next to her. Neither of them seemed to like where this was headed.

"Can anyone tell me the spell that is used for this creature?"

A ravenclaw boy raised his hand this time, "Riddikulus."

"Precisely! Take 5 points for Ravenclaw. Now, today all of you will have your own chance to practice your defense against a boggart. What I'll have you do is form a line in front of this wardrobe and we'll begin," he moved to stand in front of the wardrobe with his fingers on the knob to pull it open.

Y/N followed Pandora to the middle of the room, where Regulus, Barty and Evan were all standing. Any remaining laughter from the classroom was void as each individual was filled with dread at the idea of their worst fear.

The first person to go up was a ravenclaw girl who stood before the wardrobe with confidence. The professor nodded to her and then threw the door open. A grey smoke poured out of it as it began to change rapidly through different forms.

It seemed to finally settle on the form of a giant snake. The girl paled but quickly cast the spell and it changed into a piece of rope. Nobody seemed to laugh except for the professor.

"Amazing! Who's next?"

The boy in Slytherin who stood behind her looked increasingly unsure of himself as the professor moved closer to the wardrobe.

The rope quickly transformed into a dark, cold dementor. Trails of ice climbed up the sides of desks and out towards where the students were standing.

Feeding off of the fear of everyone the dementor tripled and the sensation of increasing despair filled Y/N from the inside. She stepped back and found her back pressed against Regulus' chest. His arm came around her protectively and she leaned back into the warmth that seemed to be emitting from him.

"Je suis juste la, ma cherie. Je ne laisserai rien de mal t'arriver," he whispered in her ear.

She couldn't find it in herself to care about asking what he'd said to her. Instead, she turned in his arms and hid her face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace, shielding her from the darkness surrounding them.

"Riddikulus," the professor shouted.

-

Y/N sat next to Regulus on the grass by the Black Lake. Regulus was leaning against a tree and she was next to him on her stomach reading a book.

She giggled as the protagonist made a flirty comment towards their love interest.

"Je trouve qu'il est impossible de se concentrer quand tu es la," his head fell back to rest on the tree. "C'est comme si votre personnalite etait trop parfaite et ne pouvait pas etre contenue dans votre corps."

She looked up at him, "What did you say?"

"Nothing important," he said, shrugging.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, "I don't believe you."

Regulus smiled brilliantly at her, "You shouldn't."

-

Regulus was studying in the library with his head bent low to study the potions book that he needed to complete his essay.

Y/N dragged Evan over to the table, ignoring his protests which were loud enough that Regulus looked up in confusion at the noise. His brows shot up at the scene in front of him.

"Y/N?" He asked.

She took a deep breath, "Sortirais-tu avec moi?"

She quickly turned to Evan, "Did I say it right?"

"Oui, Vous l'avez dit correctement," Regulus told her.

She turned to Evan who huffed, "He said that you said it correctly."

Y/N nodded, "Oh, that's good. What about-"

"Oui, j'aimerais beaucoup vous inviter a diner," Regulus told her with a wink, "I would love to go out with you, Mon Amour."

Y/N smiled at him as her cheeks filled in with a rosy blush.

"Finally!" Evan groaned, "Now we can all stop listening to you tell her how pretty she is all the time."

Y/N turned to Regulus who was blushing madly, "That's what you were saying?"

"I'm going to bloody kill you, Rosier."

Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

a/n: This is the first part in what will probably be a two to three part series!

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Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would like like your own when he was finished.

Me every time I set foot in a bookshop

is captain jack sparrow a fictional character?

(also, 2 more things: 1: if that photo has multiple fictional characters, all of the fictional characters in that photo will be your roommates. 2: for characters that can only live in certain conditions, those conditions will be ignored, and they’ll still be able to live.)

(sorry if you don't like this content, I just saw one of those "fictional character in photo roll" posts and thought I would make one.)

YESSSSSSSS!!:

hooked already!

You Think I Wanted This?

Summary: The king does not care for anyone's opinion but his own, and he is being entirely serious.

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A/n: first fic for fourth wing 🥳 as y'all know, all that goes through my mind is forced marriage trope, so...😏

Enjoy my babies! ❣️

（づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～

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The day was gloomy, and thunder had been cracking until an hour ago.

Y/n was grateful it had stopped, as she could continue studying without flinching every few moments. She had an important test coming up, and being King Tauri's only daughter, she had the pressure of getting good grades on her shoulders.

If only to show the people not everyone a failure in the royal family.

Y/n sighed, setting her pen down and rubbing her eyes with cramping fingers.

It was getting dark, and soon she would leave for having dinner with her family.

A knock drew Y/n from screwing her eyes out, and she called out to let them in.

Her older brother, Alic, stepped in, smiling. "How are you today sister?"

"Tired. You?"

"I'm good. You have been summoned. Father wants to meet you in his private office."

Y/n's brows furrowed. What could he want from me?

It was almost never that her father summoned his kids, and when he did, it was rarely in his private office. Those were for important matters, and he deemed his children... not important.

Y/n stood, closing her book and turning to her brother, stretching slightly. "Do you know why he has summoned me?"

He shook his head. "No idea."

"It can't be good." She mumbled, glancing into the full length mirror that took up half of the wall opposite her bed to make sure she was in an attire considered appropriate for court meetings or formal business, then followed her brother out of her room.

He was the second oldest of all the kids the king had, with Y/n being the third and Cam being the fourth, who was away in the rider's quadrant.

Y/n envied him.

"If it helps, I saw a few authorities and riders entering the office when he told me to retrieve you."

Y/n frowned, falling in step next to Alic. "That did not help."

He gave her a helpless smile. "My apologies then, princess."

She rolled her eyes, though a smile made its way onto her face. She wrapped a hand around his arm, hoping whatever the matter was, it was nothing grave.

•○🌑○•

Y/n paused outside her father's office, tugging her brother to a stop, who turned to her with furrowed brows.

"What is it?"

She placed a finger against her lips, nodding towards the two people standing nearby, whispering to each other furiously, obviously locked in a heated discussion.

Alic's eyes narrowed. He nodded to the empty spaces next to the door, which was suspicious too, considering there should have been two guards on duty manning the door.

Y/n turned away, staring at the ornately carved door to her father's office. She decided it was worth the risk, and slowly pressed her ear to the wood.

The voices were faint, but she could make out the words.

"So you want to... what? Separate Riorson and your daughter?" That was definitely her father.

"Yes, your majesty."

"And why is that?"

"Because bonded to two of the most powerful dragons, they have the power to overthrow you. And I still don't trust the Riorson boy." It was the voice of a female, and Y/n felt like she knew who it was, but she couldn't place the voice.

"But wouldn't acting on your plan put him closer to me, and indirectly give him access to more resources to take over?" His voice was sceptical, and Y/n wondered who this woman was.

"No, your majesty. Away from my daughter, he would be weaker than if with her, and you yourself know how dangerous they can be together."

Y/n heard her father sigh, but before she could hear his response, someone touched her back, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

She whipped around, holding back a yelp, and glared at a grinning Alic.

"What?" She snapped.

"Did I scare you, Y/n?"

She slapped his arm, huffing, annoyed that he found her amusing.

His smile faded, though, as he glanced towards the two people nearby.

That was when Y/n noticed that they were staring at her and Alic, having walked closer while Y/n had been eavesdropping.

Y/n's eyes snagged on the man, his muscular arms wrapped across his chest. He was gorgeous, and Y/n wondered if he was even real. Because, surely, someone could not be this handsome, right?

Or maybe the gods simply deemed him their favourite.

Y/n blinked when someone moved in her periphery, realising she was staring, and swiftly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks.

A moment later, Y/n decided to glance at the two people again, noting that the other one was a female.

Her brows furrowed as she eyed the braid hanging over the girl's shoulder, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Y/n knew that she had met this girl.

Y/n cocked her head at the possessiveness in her eyes.

"I feel like we've met before. Have we?" Y/n questioned.

"On a couple of occasions, yes, we've met. I'm Violet."

It took Y/n a moment to place the name.

"Violet... Violet Sorrengail?"

Violet nodded, her hand coming to rest on the man's bicep. "And this is Xaden Riorson."

"Fen Riorson's son." Alic murmured.

A weird feeling spread through Y/n. "You are the Riorson boy they are talking about?"

His eyebrows- one scarred- rose, and Y/n realised she was the only one who heard the conversation going on on the other side of the door.

She swallowed, glancing at her brother before addressing Violet. "Is your mother in there?"

"Yes." Violet's eyes were filled with confusion.

"And are you and Riorson involved... in any way?"

"I- Yes?" Violet whispered, her eyes wide. "How did you know?"

Y/n sighed, horrified. "Did you tell your mother about it?"

"No. But what are you getting at?"

"Obviously, you saw me trying to listen in. Your mother was talking about separating you two."

Everyone's jaw dropped open, and this time Riorson spoke up. "They- no one knows though, and those who do would never betray us."

His voice did something to Y/n, but she reminded herself that he was unavailable. And he was also not the type of man she would go for anyways.

"Well, they know. Surely something might have happened, and she made that connection. Whatever it is, they are planning to-"

Alic's fingers wrapped around Y/n's arm suddenly, and he pulled her closer and turned her to face the door a moment before the door actually opened.

There, stood General Sorrengail, Violet's mother, and she simply ignored her daughter and Riorson, meeting the eyes of Y/n and Alic, bowing her head in deference, as was necessary.

"Prince, princess. Your father awaits your presence."

She held open the door as Alic and Y/n shuffled in, then beckoned the other two inside.

The office was massive, though sparsely furnished.

"Father." Alic bowed at the waist, and Y/n curtsied.

"I am assuming you have met Riorson here. I have summoned you here today because I have news for you."

Everyone stayed silent, anticipation building in the air.

"As we all know Riorson has dedicated his life to our kingdom and has promised he has only our best interests at heart, has proved time and time that he is willing to do anything for our kingdom."

Y/n held her breath, her gut telling her this was not going to be good.

"So in reward, I will marry my daughter to you, Xaden Riorson."

Y/n's heart stopped beating for a moment, before starting up again at a speed she failed to count, and Y/n wondered if it would gallop out of her chest entirely.

"You can't be fucking serious." Violet blurt out, then her wide eyes stare swung to her mother, who smiled sligtly.

"We are entirely serious, rider." The king said, his expression saying all about how displeased he was about her outburst.

He then turned to Y/n and Alic, his brows rising.

"You better start preparing. The wedding will be in two days' time."

And they were dismissed.

Y/n didn't miss the disbelieving look thrown her way by both Violet and Xaden, but she was not going to argue with her father.

They didn't know what would happen if she did, and she was in no mood to speak out when she could not form a single coherent thought that was not I hate him.

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@bubybubsters @artists-ally here it is, the fic i was telling you about 😏

(Not tagging others in case they havent read fourth wing and dont wanna be tagged 😉)