My name is Bella, or C, this blog is purely self indulgent but requests are welcome! I will write mostly anything, although please be sure to read my rules before submitting a request. The fandoms I write for do change quite frequently so fair warning that your request may not be fulfilled if the fandom is taken out of the FIWF list before I get around to it. Other than that, Have fun!
Requests are: CLOSED
❀🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹❀
Fandoms I write for currently:
· The Last of Us - Both the game and the HBO max show.
· Arcane
· Call of duty MW
· My Hero Academia
· The Apothecary Diaries
· Who Made Me a Princess
· The Love Hypothesis
· Demon Slayer
· ACOTAR
· Jujutsu Kaisen
Rules:
1. I will not write piss, scat, incest, noncon, feet stuff, or anything involving children.
2. Homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, or kink shaming will not be tolerated on my blog.
3. This is a strictly x reader blog, requests involving ships will be ignored (sorry shippers).
4. Don’t be toxic, be kind and keep in mind that this is a safe space.
5. This blog is just for fun, there will be no scheduled posts. Slow updates are to be expected.
Hey Whores! Sorry for the absense, college has been WHOOPING MY ASS. I'm also trying to juggle school in between working, being in a musical, producing an album and trying to find time to write in between. SO FORGIVE ME THAT UPDATES ARE TAKING A WHILE its just been a lot but once summer hits updates should be rolling out at a steady pace. Love you all and thank you so much for the support.
Hiii I just read through ur Rhysand x reader story and I just wanna say it's really good and I can't wait for you to release a new chapter (which I hope you will😭)
Summary: A pestering passerby drags up an unexpected guest that almost blows your cover.
Read pt. 1 of Eternally Elusive - HERE
Read pt. 7 - HERE (currently wip)
Warnings: Harassment, injury.
In your pain riddled haste, you hadn’t realized how worked up you had made Azriel’s shadow. It seemed to be fretting at any slip up in fear of you damaging your already broken wing, it’s movement jagged and sharp as it circled you. But alas, you paid it no heed- couldn’t as you stumbled your way over the border and onto Dawn Court soil in the most pain you’ve been in since you’d left your homeland. The feeling buzzed in your head, and you just knew that you’d be in pain for months just waiting for this to heal up, but that’s only if you get the proper care for it, which you were certainly not.
Even being courts apart, Rhys still seemed to find a way to make your life difficult.
You wondered idly if he knew how badly his slip up had fucked you over as you splinted your injury, enchanting the wooden block to stay in place with a wave of your hand. Your wing still throbbed, the pain thrumming through you like a steady stream. It was the slightest bit more bearable with the splint in place, the appendage no longer visibly deformed, and it put you at ease to see it no longer sticking at an odd angle.
The glamour you held over yourself swallowed you like a comforting blanket, the weight of it putting you at ease as you looked out on the bustling streets of the Dawn Court. The last thing you needed right now was someone noticing who you were, the whispers would no doubt make their way back to the inner circle and you didn’t need another guest appearance as of right now. You dragged a hand down your face, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension that had built up along your trek into town.
A brush along your wing had you jumping and scrambling to recoil away from the touch. Your head whipped around, swiveling frantically in search of the source. Your eyes landed on a short, brunette fae. His eyes were a piercing gold, shimmering in the setting sun. You’d almost say they were beautiful if they hadn’t been holding a tinge of disgust, staring at you as if he was floored by your very presence. Azriel’s shadow stilled when you locked eyes with him, the darkness settling at your side.
It's slight coolness as it brushed against you offered you some solace from your peaked anxiety as you stared at the fae. “An Illyrian?” He scoffed, looking down on your form perched on a wooden bench. His upper lip curled into a scowl as his eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be here.” He sneered. Your eyes darted around, a few people nearby eyed you both, a few previous strollers slowing down to watch the interaction. Your pulse spiked, and the fae seemed to pick up on it as he huffed a snort. “Are you a spy? Come to feed information back to your whore of a High Lord?”
The comment hit you like a brick to the face, the insult causing a slice of hurt to bloom in your chest despite your current status with said male. Your features downturned, a kaleidoscope of memories flooding into you from Under the Mountain- both yours and his. You didn’t have time to fully react to anything the fae had said- to what your body had forced you to remember.
A sharp, commanding voice sounded from behind the Dawn Court native, and he bristled at the sound, a visible tremor running through him. “Are we now in the business of disturbing travelers?”
You watched as the golden eyed fae slowly turned around, almost as if he were dreading what he would see. He moved to the side, and your eyes landed on a black haired woman, the girl coated in glittering armor from head to toe. The Dawn Court insignia sat proud on her chest plate, her dark hair sprawling well past the emblem and stopping just before her waist. She held the same shimmering golden eyes as the male- but these were sharper somehow, and they seemed to swirl with power. White wings stood proud behind her, so big that the ivory feathers brushed the ground where she stood.
A Peregryn, you realized.
A member of the elite aerial legion the Dawn Court proudly harbored. You were stunned, as were most passerby at her presence, only attracting more attention to your already uncomfortable situation. Her eyes landed on you, and they widened slightly in recognition.
It dawned on you in that second, and you stiffened into an immovable force.
Glamour didn’t work on Peregryns.
You stared at each other wide eyed, a silent acknowledgement of what was taking place. A runaway monarch- and a soldier of another court. She had all the power here- a cruel switch that was bound to be flipped at some point; you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. She could report this back to Thesan, have you sent back without so much as a thought. Azriels shadow circled you, and you waited with bated breath to see what she’d do.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Her eyes fell back onto the brown-haired male still staring at her in thinly veiled horror. “Get moving.” She said coldly, jerking her head in the direction of another bustling street. The male sputtered for a second, eyes darting back to you before stuttering out a “yes, ma’am.” You watched him disappear into the crowd of people making their way down the busy street, the few people that had stopped to watch the interaction dispersing with him.
Your eyes fell back on the woman, the Peregryn now making her way towards you as if she were on a mission. The look in her eyes had you leaping to your feet, hopping off the bench as if the wooden structure had scorched you through your clothes. You got up in time to meet her face to face, her golden armor glinting in the setting sun.
You swallowed thickly, your pulse racing as you locked eyes. Her face seemed to hold a certain kind of awe you’d compare to a child receiving a new toy. Her eyes slipped over to your injured wing, the glance lingering for a second longer than you’d anticipated before it flickered back to your face. The fae bristled, a realization seeming to dawn on her as she floundered. “M-my Lady.” Her legs bent to steep into a kneel, and your heart rate spiked so violently the Peregryn flinched, your arm shooting out to stop her from completing her bow. Your nails dug into her armor, creating a soft creaking noise as your voice fought its way out of you. Commanding. Desperate. Almost a plea as you spoke.
“Don’t.” You said lowly, eyes darting around as she slowly eased out of her half completed kneel. She managed to take in your frantic movements in her confused state, eyes searching the streets in hopes no one had saw what she had just attempted to do. A fae with light brown hair seemed to eye you as she walked by, and that was all it took to have you hauling the Peregryn into a nearby ally.
“Are you trying to get me in shit!?” You hissed, casting a glance to the street you were just standing in, the shadows of the ally helping you to remain hidden. “No- no, my lad-“ You cut her off. “Don’t call me that, I’m not Your Lady.” You let go of her armor, confusion staining the woman’s face, only becoming more saturated with each passing second. “I may serve the Dawn Court, but I was born of the Night, you are as much My Lady as Thesan is My Lord.” Your eyes darted to her dark sprawling locks, and it clicked for you. She may have been a Peregryn, that much was obvious, but she held prominent features of the Night Court.
It was possible, much like your own lineage. A union between a Peregryn and a member of the Night Court. You saw it. A reflection of yourself stared back, the pride that swirled in her eyes when she talked about her heritage. You remember being like that, once. So proud of being from both the Winter, and the Night Court.
It was long gone though, that pride.
One of those homes was ripped away from you.
You hope she doesn’t suffer the same fate.
“I’m glamoured right now.” You said, tone much softer. A crease formed between her brows, face falling. “Oh.” She paused, looking you over before she spoke again. “I thought you were here for the Fall Solstice.”
That’s right. The Solstice.
Where the three Solar Courts came together in celebration. Where the day and night fall together in equal harmony, each as long as the other. You had completely forgotten in your haste to make it back to Winter. Your mouth fell open, eyebrows raising as an expression of surprise overtook your features. It was clear Rhys wouldn’t be attending any festivals after Under the Mountain, and now with you missing, you’d be surprised if he left the house. Especially with… her to attend to.
“I’m guessing that’s a no?” She asked. Your eyes fell back on her. She really didn’t know? Did Rhys not alert the other Courts to your disappearance? Or is it just so early he didn’t have a chance yet? You swallowed nervously, wringing your hands together anxiously. “Well, since you’re in town you’re still welcome to come.” The Peregryn said softly, sensing your unease. “Pardon my bluntness, but you don’t look to be feeling too well, you should get some rest. I should probably get back to my post regardless.”
You realized just how long you’d been standing in the ally, and you nodded your head in acknowledgement. She inclined her head slightly, almost a bow but casual enough to be brushed off. “It was an honor.” She said sincerely, turning to make her way out of the overhang. You watched her exit the ally, ivory wings brushing the ground as they followed behind her.
Hauling yourself up the stairs of the inn, you used the wall to support most of your weight. Azriels shadow was swirling around you, fretting as it always did when you were in a less than favorable state. The groan you let out when you reached the top was almost guttural, and you had to muster up the very last bit of your energy reserves to scuffle the last bit to your room.
You fiddled around with the key, leaning your forehead against the door and attempted not to wince as your arm knocked into your wing. Getting the key into the lock was an accomplishment in itself, and you pushed the door open, ready to clean yourself up and have a short nap. The door swung open, and you threw the key onto the dresser on your right side, swinging the door closed behind you.
The door swung closed, revealing the bed and a battered Azriel sitting atop it.
Summary: You walk in on Rhysand and Morrigan talking about bringing a certain Cursebreaker back to the Night Court. When the destruction of your home started off in a similar situation - how far will you go to convince Rhysand it's a bad idea?
Warning: This series contains graphic descriptions of gore, Battles with PTSD, Possesive/controlling behaviour, Fights and inner conflict, Displacement, Violence, Familial trauma, and War.
(There will be specific warnings before each chapter)
Summary: Amren grapples with her loyalty to her High Lord and Lady. Meanwhile, said High Lady's fall from grace proves to be a major setback in her journey.
Read pt. 1 of Delaying a Phantom - HERE
Read pt. 6 - HERE
Warnings: Descriptions of injury/disfigurement, Brief mention of trauma flashbacks.
“What the hell are you doing?”
As soon as the trio had winnowed to the House of Wind, Amren had attempted to stage an intervention of some sort, if you could even call it that. It’s not like she was expecting him to drop everything that he was doing, but she was hoping to at least get some answers- or some semblance of a plan. She watched as Rhys tumbled into the first seat he saw, Mor eyeing them wearily.
A groan broke out of him, whether it was from the pain or the spontaneous interrogation, Amren didn’t care. She cocked her head to the side, black bob swaying with the movement. “Well?” Rhys cocked his head up, eyes finally falling on Amren, they flickered over to Morrigan for a second before he said “I am doing what is necessary.”
Amren’s eyebrow rose, and she shot a glance at Mor to find her examining her nailbeds, clearly already withdrawn from the conversation. “Care to input?” She asked, mildly annoyed at Morrigan’s carefree attitude. Morrigan’s head shot up, the blonde giving a non-committal shrug. “I don’t see how I’m involved in this.”
Amren shot her a puzzled look. “Your High Lady just fled your court, this guy-” Amren pointed to Rhys as he shifted in barely concealed pain. “-just brought another High Lords betrothed into our home, and we are on the brink of war. Remind me again how this doesn’t concern you?”
Morrigan shifted on her feet as Amren pointed out her willful ignorance. Her eyes darting between her and her High Lord. Her clear awkwardness had Amren floored. Did she think this didn’t affect her at all? Did she not see how this situation posed a risk to not only you, but the entire status of the Night Court?
Morrigan’s non-answer had Amren releasing a disregarding sigh. “You both need to get your head out of your ass.” She said, grey eyes settling onto Rhys yet again. “And you.” She began, turning her full attention to him. She crouched down, forearms settling on her knees as she squatted. She looked up at his face that was scattered in scuffs and newly forming bruises. She held no sympathy for him, her tone coming out slightly colder than usual. “Is it really worth losing her over this?”
Amren wasn’t about to dive headfirst into a fight between mates, it wasn’t her place. The last thing she wanted to do was take a few pages out of Azriel’s book and start a brawl with Rhys. She seemed to be caught in the middle, her loyalty being pulled taunt between the two of you, and if there was one thing she hated, it was picking sides. But regardless of the situation surrounding your disappearance, you were her High Lady, and she’d be damned if she didn’t at least try to make Rhys realize what he seemed to be doing to you.
Rhys head lolled; his eyes unfocused for a second before they snapped to attention at her question. “It’s worth anything to keep you safe- to keep her safe.” He said, tone laced with a sort of desperation that Amren had never heard come from him. Despite his apparent fretting, Amren scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her.
“Don’t fool yourself, boy. You aren’t doing this for me.”
Azriel’s shadow was more persistent than you’d thought it’d be. No matter how fast you flew, the wind whipping past you and catching on your cheeks, the relentless blow of it stinging your eyes, it was right with you. It zipped around you, clung to you almost like a mother, and despite how at first you found it’s constant presence annoying, you began to enjoy the way it swept around you. After all those years you spent Under the Mountain, you forgot just how much you loved to fly.
I mean, of course, you had flown when you were in the Night Court, but after Under the Mountain, you could never quite bring yourself to let loose. But even before, when you were free to fly whenever you wanted, you were always so busy you either didn’t have the time or used your ability to fulfill your duties. You never really were able to sit and appreciate just how much you loved the feel of it. The way your stomach dipped when you suddenly plummeted, the wind that kissed you and ran its fingers through your hair, and the view.
By the Cauldron, the view.
The lands of the Day Court sprawled out beneath you, rolling fields and steady streams that had a goofy grin plastering its way onto your features. You could see every tree that dotted the fields, the sparse houses that appeared every now and then. This was the closest to peace you had been in a long time. The feeling had you spinning in the air, your wings tucking in to do a complete roll that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The sun felt warm on your skin, the cloudless sky not doing much to stop the way it melted into your skin and had a warm, joyous feeling beginning to sprout inside you. Your tattooed hands extended, feeling the wind fighting to press them down back to your sides as you studied the line that separated the sky and the horizon.
A rush of pain violently burned its way down the bond so fast you wailed, your figure seizing.
And then you were plummeting.
You couldn’t get your wings to move, couldn’t will your body to do anything as it continued to lock up. The pain still fought its way through the bond.
Pain cascaded down your back and a choked, pained sound left you again before you hit the first tree.
You collided, and you felt the branches hurtling into you, the sticks scratching at you. They cut you open, ruthlessly scraping up against you as you crashed through the trees. It felt like you were getting pummeled, the leaves hitting your face before you finally felt yourself collide into the ground.
You were dying.
There was no other explanation. Pain overtook you like a blanket, searing your nerves and making a piercing scream break through you. You twitched, a sob leaving you as you dug your fingers into the ground. Tears slid down your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, chest stuttering as you tried to breath. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t get a breath in, and another wail left you with less air.
Your forehead rested in the dirt; the crater you had made from your fall didn’t provide any comfort as your body flinched in pain. You felt a brief wave of revolting nostalgia wash over you, as if it was raking its grotesque fingers over your senses. It reminded you all too well of the cell you had been in Under the Mountain, the grime that had grown to be a permanent fixture on your skin.
Another throb had you snapping out of the flashback, and you came to your senses well enough to realize that the pain was coming from your wing. You attempted to unfurl both your wings, beginning to stretch them out before a blinding pain had you seizing up again. Your left wing only twitched in response, shuddering against the pain that went through it. You craned your head, sweat beginning to bead on your brow as you laid your eyes on the damage you did. The membrane was still intact, but the drooping told you that it was obviously broken.
Fuck.
A yell of frustration broke from you, and you blinked away the tears blurring your vision as you fought your way through the pain, a hand coming to push yourself up. You hauled yourself to your knees, another groan leaving you and you pushed yourself to your feet. The weight of your wing pulled it down, and it had you clenching your jaw in an effort not to cry out again. You braced yourself on a nearby trunk, looking around for any obvious landmarks to tell you where you crashed. You swallowed thickly, attempting to asses how you were going to complete the rest of your journey on foot. Despite your best efforts, the pain made it hard to think. You were almost to the Dawn Court border, so you started with the obvious decision.
Friend!!!! I FOUND YOU FROM YOUR JJK FANFIC AND IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I SAW YOU ALSO WRITE FOR ACOTAR!!!!!
THE ANGST IN WIPED OFF THE MAP IS *chefs kiss* EXQUISITE
I have a question. Though I’m not sure if this is an okay question to asks to a writer (if it isn’t I’m so sorry. I have no other intentions with the question other than to prepare my own heart) ..... If it’s not too much of a spoiler can you please tell me if wiped off the map is going to be a Rhysand x Reader story through and through even if it’s until the bitter end😭😭😭😭 because I’ve been baited and switched one too many times with a story starting as Rhys x Reader ending as an Azriel x Reader with no warning or proper tagging😭😭😭
NOTHING AGAINST AZ (he’s my fav batboy) but if I wanted an x reader Az’s story I will look for it on his tags😭
I would answer your question but I'm the biggest advocate for no spoilers so nothings coming out of me until the chapters are out IM SORRY OKAY
Although I can tell you that if you came for a happy ending I regret to inform you you're not going to get one
*evil maniacal laugh*
I'm evil when it comes to writing, we're either sad or horny in this house.
Hi 🎀 I think reader should reject the mate bond with Rhys, let him enjoy his precious little Feyre and as reader is healing, BAM! a mate bond develops with Azriel. It’ll explain the care he’s always felt for her. His her second chance mate and Rhys has lost her forever.
Am I being too mean….?
Hmm... you've given me things to think about...
You guys keep making me want to change the plot WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MEEE
Summary: Rhysand discovering you had left didn't go as gracefully as anyone expected.
Read Pt. 1 of Desertion & Destruction - HERE
Read Pt. 5 - HERE
Warnings: Blood, Yelling, Violence, Angst.
By the time Rhys had realized you’d left the Night Court, you were already over the border.
And Feyre stood, stunned and faintly terrified over the chaos that ensued.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHES GONE?” Rhys was livid, indescribably so. His instincts were clawing at him, screaming at him to go after you. He could barely think through the chorus in his head yelling at him that you had left, you were gone. The logical, High Lord thinking part of himself said that he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t go after you. You were over the border, out of his court, and with tensions as high as they already were, he couldn’t risk walking into another court. They would take it as an unspoken declaration of war, especially considering he sent no correspondence beforehand- and that he was so close to Amarantha Under the Mountain. He was stuck.
A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one.
Unfortunately for Azriel, Rhys was both.
“She left yesterday and headed straight for the border.” Azriel spoke matter-of-factly, as if he was giving a mundane report to his High Lord about observations he had made while out on a mission. He didn’t owe anything to Rhys, not after the way he had treated you. Right now, he was his brother, first and foremost, High Lord status be damned.
“And you helped her?” Rhys asked incredulously, a scowl upturning his features that had Azriel’s feet spreading, back straightening. Cassian tensed from beside them, noting the warrior stance Azriel had casually slipped into. He became mildly concerned about where this conversation was headed, and if the streets outside the townhouse would survive Azriel and Rhys duking it out in the middle of the entryway.
“What would you rather have me do? Leave her to rot like you did?” Azriel hissed through his teeth, shadows stirring from their dormancy. Rhys bristled, a flash of unrestrained power flared through his violet irises, lighting them up and making them shine with an iridescent hue. The ground rumbled beneath them, the movement causing Cassian to tense, shooting a concerned look at Azriel.
“Easy.” He warned, the tension becoming thicker with each passing second. He could tell Rhys was getting too riled up, his rage combined with his instincts roaring at him to go after you and his power that was no doubt bucking against its restraints, this could turn deadly real fast- too fast. Morrigan stepped in front of Feyre the slightest bit, watching the conversation pan out. Despite how heated it was getting, she seemed content to let them sort it out amongst themselves, although that didn’t stop her from urging Feyre to get behind her should things go south.
Azriel’s siphons blazed a bright sapphire.
He continued, “Turn my affections on to another fae?” He asked, waving his hand toward Feyre in a gesture that told the group he didn’t care much for her. Rhys’ figure grew taunt, like a spring that was wrung tight, ready to launch at a moment’s notice “Plaster posters around when she slips your leash?”
Cassian barely had time to blink before Rhys had Azriel up against the wall. The house shook from the impact, pictures falling off the wall and smashing on the ground as a yelp sounded from behind Cassian. Whether it was from Feyre or Morrigan, he didn’t know- didn’t turn around to find out. Rhys seethed, his forearm against the shadowsingers throat as he bared his teeth. “Don’t talk about my mate.”
Azriel wondered at what point his loyalty had turned over to you. Him and his brothers had grown up together. They had fought countless battles- killed thousands, and saved each other more times than they could count. But still, staring at Rhys as he was pinned to the wall, his High Lords arm digging into his neck as he felt a tremor shake the house under his barely restrained power- he knew he’d gone wrong somewhere.
Cassian jumped in, tearing Rhys off of Azriel as the High Lord struggled to push through him. Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt to break it up, despite the shout of warning Cassian had shot at him. Azriel stepped forward, inches away from Rhys’ face as he snarled “You abandoned her just like you did Under the Mountain.”
Rhys had plowed through Cassian and was on Azriel in a second. Cassian barely had time to react as he stumbled back, attempting to regain his balance. Mor immediately turned around, ushering a panic-stricken Feyre up the stairs of the townhouse as Rhys and his spymaster threw each other to the ground.
The first punch landed directly in the center of Azriel’s face, making him recoil slightly before sending Rhys into a side table in the entrance to the foyer. Only a grunt left him, barely an acknowledgement of the wood that had slammed into his side before they lurched at each other again.
They scuffled on the ground for a moment, Rhys crawling on top of Azriel as the spymaster attempted to shift his weight, aiming to flip him over. His attempts ultimately failed as he was slugged again, his head being sent careening, cracking against the hardwood floors. He felt it collide, the blinding pain that shot through his head and down his spine, throbbing in his temples. He grit his teeth, his siphons fluttering, the light flickering until it came to a head.
A blast of blue light collided into Rhys, sending him into the wall behind him. A crack formed in the drywall as he hit, the sound audible in the once chaotic room that now sat still. A groan sounded from Rhys as he slumped down the wall, the pain no doubt incapacitating him for the time being.
Before one of them could regain their bearings and go at it again, his shadows swarmed him in a frenzy. It was almost as if they were panicked, the way they zipped around him. He felt the warm blood leak from his nose as he heard the first whisper. A murmur, almost like a graze as it spoke, mutterings of your journey, a fall, a broken wing.
Fuck.
Azriel hadn’t even given half a thought to the mating bond before he and Rhys went at it- of how it would affect you. Though before he could scramble to his feet and rush to you, a voice sounded from behind him.
“Cauldron boil me, what happened in here?”
His head rang, and a jolt of pain zapped through him as he looked up to find Amren staring directly at him, Mor at her side as she looked between him and Rhys. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to will away the headache that began to set in from the blow to the head. “Words were exchanged.” Azriel gritted out, ignoring Cassian as he arched a brow in slight amusement. Mor let out a whistle as she surveyed the foyer, the broken table, dented floorboards, and the pictures that lay shattered on the floor.
“No shit, I was wondering which ones had you willing to blow the entirety of Velaris apart.” Amren said, not sounding too enthused at the state of the room. She sent a pointed looked to the crack in the wall, the drywall caving in slightly and exposing the stunts underneath. Azriel rubbed his temples as he sat up on his knees, one hand coming to brace himself on the hardwood. “The ones that told Rhys he’s been a shit mate.” Azriel quipped, a layer of frustration edging his tone as he couldn’t stop the headache from raging on. “Ah.” Amren tutted, dark hair swaying with her steps as she walked up to the High Lord. “Get up.”
Rhys blinked blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as Amren’s eyes shone with a flicker of that foreign power. It had appeared Rhys had his fill of fighting for the day, and rose to his feet without complaint, only a muffled groan of pain leaving him as he heaved himself up the wall.
Amren snapped her fingers toward Mor, nodding her head towards Rhys as she helped him steady himself. Mor seemed to understand as she let out an annoyed sigh, making her way over to the two as Rhys braced himself on the wall. Mor clicked her tongue as she gave Rhys a once over, but spared the ladder any further comments as she grabbed hold of him and Amren. The trio disappeared in a plume of black smoke, leaving Cassian and Azriel in the decimated foyer.
Cassian let out a snort, his steps avoiding the dents along the scuffed floor as Azriel grimaced weakly. Cassian held out a hand in expectation, waiting a beat before Azriel took it and he hauled him up. Azriel stumbled, tripping over his own footing as he struggled to keep upright. Cassian tsked. “Last time you had a concussion was 120 years ago.” Azriel shot him a glare, flinching when he felt another jolt of pain throb through his temples. He ignored Cassian’s comment, instead gesturing to the vacant space where Rhys once stood. “Where’d they go?”
“The House.” Cassian said, watching Azriel as he made his way towards the townhouse steps. “Figured you two needed a little time apart.” Azriel huffed a laugh as he sat down onto the steps rather ungracefully. A small grin tugged at Cassian’s lips as he watched his brother fumble. “And I take it Amren’s appearance was also your idea?” Azriel asked rhetorically.
Azriel never intended for this to get out of hand. A would’ve been quiet conversation had turned into a shitshow, and he didn’t know whether to feel bad or justified that the family seemed to have been picking sides. “It’s not my fault she’s the only one who can seem to get you two off of each other.” Cassian chuckled at his own joke, the laugh ringing out through the silent house. Cassian knew Feyre was upstairs and had probably heard everything that had gone down, but part of him was glad she wasn’t there to see the brunt of it. A hell of a first impression she got.
Cassian’s smirk fell at Azriel’s lack of response. He noted the way he stared at the ground, watching the blood from his nose drip and splatter on the floorboards, staining the wood. “You care for her don’t you.” Azriel seemed to snap out of his reverie at the mention of you, his eyes glancing off to the side as he huffed incredulously. “I care about all of you.”
Cassian pursed his lips, surveying the bloodied spymaster. He sighed, looking down at the ground as he shook his head knowingly. “You know that’s not what I meant.” His tone had gone soft, Azriel gritted his teeth. He didn’t bother to respond to the remark, instead slumping against his hand that had come to cradle his head.
Cassian laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a pat of goodwill. “Keep me updated.” He said gently, before strolling past him and up the stairs.
Summary: Upon learning Rhysand intends to go through with his proposal, you begin to deteriorate. Your mates complete disregard for your concerns leaves you making some brash decisions of your own.
Read pt.1 to Devotion & Deceit - HERE
Read pt.4 - HERE
Warnings: Descriptions of trauma, Panic Attacks, Blood, Depression, Brief mentions of self harm.
You weren’t able to get up out of bed, and despite Azriels visits and multiple attempts, he couldn’t get you up either. Even though the majority of your time was spent in the small bedroom of that log cabin, very little time was spent actually sleeping in it. The miniscule amount of sleep you did get was broken by you jolting awake in the dead of night only to cry until the sun peaked through the cracks of the drapes that remained closed no matter what time of day.
The meals that Azriel brought to you remained ignored and untouched on the nightstand, to be removed by him the next day with a fresh platter in the hopes that you would at least pick through it. On occasion the smell would have you scrambling for the toilet, thin figure peeled over the side as you dry heaved into the bowl. The meals eventually reduced to small snacks the more often it happened, making you feel the slightest hint of guilt which only had you burrowing further into the sheets.
Niliana’s best efforts didn’t seem to shake you either, she’d come by to give you the latest spiel of the gossip in town, or brush out your hair as you laid in bed. She came by every day for the better part of a month, until the work she put off caught up to her, sending the wraith scrambling to catch up. She no longer came by.
Rhys hadn’t sent a word down the bond. Not a flicker of emotion, pain, even a thought. Just.. nothing. He was completely shut off from you. Not like you could complain, you did the exact same to him, going completely MIA.
“Have you two spoken?” Azriel said from the doorway, a glass of water in hand along with a small rag that undoubtedly held more food he wanted you to shove down your throat. Azriel sighed as he saw your eyes fall on the item, a grimace gracing your features. You muttered a soft “no” as he padded towards the bed, hand outstretched in a silent plea for you to sit up.
You groaned, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes, the dark circles surrounding them making you look like you had taken a beating. “I need to change anyways.” You croaked; voice rough as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.
You had visibly lost weight, your legs looking like if you look a step they’d crack under the pressure. You couldn’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. Ever since he had chosen her. Left his mate to rot in this stupid log cabin as if you meant nothing to him. Chose her again just like he did Under the Mountain, while Amarantha forced you to watch every night as she danced for him in that skimpy little outfit. But even then, you understood, then you knew that he was doing it for you- doing what was necessary.
What you didn’t understand was this. It had ended, you had run to him in that arena like you had wanted to for fifty years. You had clung to him like he was your lifeline. Five decades of Amarantha using you as her slave, only allowing you to see Rhys when he was tangled up with her. Always by her side.
And he had chosen someone else over you- yet again.
Azriel broke your thoughts by holding out the glass to you, and you rose from the bed, taking it in your frail hands, slightly shaky from the lack of vitamins. You brought it to your mouth, letting the chill of the glass rest on your bottom lip as you swallowed a few mouthfuls of the liquid. It didn’t go down easy, the cold making you recoil slightly as you swallowed the last bit.
You turned back to hand the glass back to Azriel, but he was frozen, face pale as he looked at you. His shadows swarmed him, moving around him in a frenzy, curling towards his ears, flicking around his waist. He stared at the glass you held out to him, and you slowly retracted your hand as you realize he was too caught up in whatever his shadows were whispering to him.
Your face fell, and the corners of your mouth downturned into a poorly concealed frown. “Is she there?” You asked, the question falling out of you before you could do anything to stop it, not that you could’ve. You didn’t know why you needed to know so bad, your body ached with the question, your hand gripping the glass tighter in an unexplainable want. His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but immediately shut closed as he hesitated. He didn’t need to say it, you knew.
You knew, you always knew.
Something in you snapped, and like a cage being unlocked, a fiery, all-consuming fury burst through the bars and swallowed you whole. The feeling swamped you like a tidal wave, your arm cocking back, barely feeling the glass slipping from your grasp as you sent it soaring straight at the wall.
The glass shattered immediately upon impact, the sound breaking the comforting stillness of the room, making Azriel flinch. Shards of glass and remnants of water were blown back at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you felt the water drench the front of your shirt. The cloth stuck to your ribcage, the frigid wetness not registering in the slightest. You felt a shard slice your cheek open as it grazed you, and other bits of glass embed themselves into you as you heard the tinkle of the pieces falling to the floor, a few skittering across the ground.
“I’M NOT STAYING HERE!” You roared, hands coming to cradle your head, hands fisted in your hair. You pulled at the roots, clung to them like they’d offer some grain of comfort as your breathing began to speed up. The room was spinning, everything was spinning.
And you were Under the Mountain again- you were cold and wet. It was dark, your cell was too small. You could feel the dirt and grime and how it was caked under your fingernails like the dust had engraved itself onto you. Your matted hair and the feeling of the violent tugs as you ripped it out. But that was your hair- you could feel it between your fingers. You couldn’t breathe- God, why couldn’t you breathe.
“Get your shit together!” Azriel yelled, jolting you as he forced you to stop spiraling, hands clamping down on your wrists as you stilled. His grip dug into your skin, and you finally surfaced from the hurricane in your head enough to realize you were holding clumps of your hair in your hands. The thin strands hung from your fingers like a morbid Solstice decoration, and you vaguely recognized the sting that told you that you had bitten through your bottom lip in your haste.
You stared at him wide eyed, feeling the burn of your tears leaking into the cut on your cheek. You flinched as you felt a drop of blood hit your forearm, and looked down soon enough to watch the crimson run down the expanse towards your elbow. It stained your skin, and you watched as another drop landed right beside it. You were bleeding, you could feel as it ran down your cheek, over your jaw, mingling with the blood that dripped from your lip down your chin.
“Do you think if you destroy yourself enough that he’ll come save you like he did for Feyre?”
It dawned on you then, just how much you had ruined yourself. You had turned into the very thing you had hated Feyre for. The very thing that had Rhys tripping over himself to go and fix, just like he did for her Under the Mountain.
Yet he didn’t come for you.
“I can’t stay here.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.
“Then you won’t.” Azriel said, letting go of your wrists.
Azriel had helped you calm down and think of what you were going to pack, not that you were taking much with you, the very idea of having anything to remind you of your time here made you want to throw up whatever was left in your stomach. You settled for a small change of clothes, your hands smoothing over the wrinkles as you folded the articles.
“Have you even decided where you’re going?” Azriel asked as he perched on the bed beside you. You shoved the small shirt you were folding into your bag, eyes trailing over to him as he waited on your answer. The drapes had been opened after your breakdown, making the light glint off Azriel’s siphons as he shifted, hands coming to perch on his knees. You shrugged, eyes stinging the slightest bit as they still needed time to adjust to the newly introduced light that you’d been avoiding for weeks. “Home.” You answered simply, finishing shoving your change of clothes into the small pack you now slid over your shoulder.
Azriel bristled, head cocking back as he questioned “The Winter Court?” The dresser at the corner of the room suddenly became very interesting as he made no attempt to hide his concern. “Yep.” You licked your lips, tongue smoothing over the teeth marks that had made a small crater in your bottom lip, the indent making you sigh. “That’s one hell of a flight.” You tucked your knife into the sheath on your thigh, the metal making a grating sound against the studded leather that had you cringing. “It’s not like I could winnow in if I wanted to.”
It's there, then that perhaps Azriel had begun to understand your insatiable need to flee. To leave everything that you had created, the life you’d built, everything that you are. Maybe he had sensed it subconsciously when he had found you that day on the border of the Night Court.
Azriel knew why you couldn’t winnow, it had always been a silent understanding between you two, and exactly the reason he hadn’t touched on it when your training had begun all those years ago. Not that you had gone into detail about what had happened in the middle, what you went through during your journey. But with Azriel being a spymaster, it hadn’t taken him long to fill in the blanks. He knew enough, and he had decided he didn’t need to know anymore- didn’t want to.
But even after you had gotten so used to running, the instinct carved so deep into your blood not even The Mother could undo it, he still had a small pit of anxiety sitting in his stomach that never quite went away. It was out of love, out of an uncontainable fear that history would repeat itself that he swished his hand over towards you, a shadow stirring to life, swirling around your waist and anchoring itself to you.
You watched how it swam and twirled around you, scurrying up your hand and over your arm. “Really?” You had asked, a light, barely there hint of amusement twinged your tone, and he rolled his eyes in response. But when he turned to you, his expression was deadly serious, almost concerned. This man, who had cared for a scared, young Illyrian girl who had somehow crawled her way to the border. Who had taught her how to fly, how to live, how to control the magic that wanted to burst out of her as if it was overflowing. He looked up at you, lips pursed. “You might see her again, you know.” He said, barely a murmur, almost scared that the words he spoke would conjure them to life.
Your eyes flickered to him as you shoved the last dagger into your boot at your heel. “That’s the plan.”
is rhys pursuing feyre for her powers? i understand that rhys and reader are mates? but then they have this connection with az???
*SPOILERS FOR WIPED OFF THE MAP & TO LOSE A LIFETIME*
-Read Wiped Off the Map Here-
Rhys is pursuing Feyre both because he thinks she'll be an asset in the upcoming war and because he has an overbearing savior complex that developed Under the Mountain. He's kind of blindly thinking that if he's able to train her, having her on their side when the war rolls around, he'll be able to protect his family and in some skewed logic way, the reader. Because he was able to save Feyre which eventually led to Feyre freeing them from Amarantha, he thinks that if he were to 'save' her again he'll save his court from Hybern (but is actively harming them in the process). Azriel and reader have a past that I don't know if I'm going to go into in the story (at this point I don't even know if I'm going to write a part three, though that may change depending on how much attention it gets) but they have a deep personal bond with each other.
Summary: After erasing every trace of yourself, you make a home for yourself in a small log cabin. But after leaving Velaris without so much as a goodbye, you should have guessed that trouble would come knocking sooner or later.
Read pt. 1 to To Lose a Lifetime - HERE
Read Pt. 3 - HERE
Warnings: Profanity, angst.
The Inner Circle hadn’t seen you for weeks. And despite their best efforts, they couldn’t find you.
At some point, you had tuned out Rhys’ continuous pleading down the bond. Completely blocked him off from any of your feelings or thoughts. The bond had gone cold. Dead.
You had made sure to erase every trace of your existence since you had left. Paying in cash- not even so much as touching your account, staying in different inns every couple of nights, giving different names to passersby. You were determined to not let them find you, you didn’t want them to find you.
But as the days turned into weeks, the time slowly creeping by to almost a month, you idly wondered what their plan was to find where you had gone.
Rhys putting out a ten-thousand-dollar reward for your whereabouts was not on your list of guesses.
You clutched the paper in your hand, and a silent curse left your mouth as you pulled your hood further over your face. This fucking prick. Of course he would do something like this. You debated whether it was worth it to go around town removing the ads plastered around like you were some wanted criminal. But your survival instincts ultimately won out when you turned your head to find a few people already glancing your way. Soon enough your feet were picking up down the path of the town you were in, eager to steer clear of anyone hopeful to get their hands on that reward.
You ducked into the tree line, quickly steering off the path to avoid any more unwanted encounters. You needed to get back to where you were staying, before more people realized the hefty sum their High Lord was willing to dish out for the missing link of his Inner Circle.
You were able to make it back to your cabin without issue. Luckily, your already wealthy friend- and owner of the cabin- wasn’t particularly swayed by the bribe.
It seemed safe- felt safe. Your fuzzy pajama pants along with the fireplace had warmed you up from the autumn chill that had befallen the Night Court. Your form curled up on the couch, knees tucked to your chest with a book in your lap. You were invested, eyes intently tracing the words on the page like a prayer, wings hanging over the arm of the couch. It couldn’t get much better than this.
You were so relaxed, and before you knew it the words on the page began to blur together as you fought to keep your eyes open against the sleep that had begun to plague you. You were so out of it you weren’t expecting to hear the sharp pounding that almost rattled the house.
You jumped, snapping upright on the couch as the book tumbled from your lap and your power flew out to slam the shutters shut on the windows. You bristled as another knock sounded on the door; this time less intense but just as startling. You groaned, running your hand through your hair as you stepped over your now discarded book, bare feet pattering on the wooden floor as you trekked towards the door. You knew Niliana was supposed to come by later for some tea and a chat- but her pounding on your door like this was completely uncalled for.
Your hand gripped the doorknob, metal cold against your warmed skin as you pulled it open, a yawn breaking from you as you rubbed your eyes groggily. “I was just about to fall asleep Nilliana what the-“
You stopped dead in your tracks as you looked up to see Rhys looking down at you, seeming very, very unimpressed.
You were suddenly wide awake as you stared at the High Lord, expression morphing into one of distaste. You assumed he would have found you sooner or later, but showing up on the doorstep of your cabin looking like this was all your fault made you want to slap him so hard you sent him flying back to Velaris.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, not bothering to hide the disappointment in your tone. Rhys frowned, his wings shifting behind him as he scanned you. “I’m here to bring you back.” He stated plainly. You looked at him in disbelief, the statement forcing a humorless laugh from you. “And what makes you think I would do anything you say after your insane proposal?” You quip, folding your arms as you leaned against the doorway, the fall chill beginning to set into your bones. Despite the shivers that had begun to rack through you, you had no intention of taking this conversation inside.
“I get you’re upset, but that doesn’t give you the right to walk out on your family.” He said matter-of-factly.
“You seem to have forgotten we’ve already done that.” You replied back cooly. His eyes hardened, and you felt a tremor shoot through the cabin as he lost the tether on his power for a split second. “Don’t bring Amarantha into this.”
“And why not?” You asked, head cocking to the side quizzically. “We both knew what going to that party meant for us. It didn’t stop us from leaving. Yet here you are willing to throw away half a century of suffering to rescue a damsel that can’t seem to get her shit together.” He wrung his hands, jaw clenching as he looked at the ground. “She’s suffering. I did the exact same for you and I would do it again.” He said, locking eyes with you. He looked desperate, like he was willing to drop to his knees and grovel to get you back. His words shot pure, unfiltered rage through you. Releasing a sharp, ragged breath through your nose, you shot him a threatening glare as you stepped towards him the slightest bit.
“No- nonono- I am completely different. I begged. I starved. I fought my way through that damn forest. I crawled my way through foreign courts I knew nothing about on the brink of death- pleading to anyone that may have offered a glimmer of sympathy or help. I fought my way up here. Through blood and tears. So, when you ask me to have sympathy for someone who has the power to destroy Prythian in her finger- just because she’s having a hard time, maybe you’ll begin to understand the reason I tell you to go fuck yourself.” You snarled, wings shuddering under the strength of your rage.
Rhys seemed to lean back the tiniest bit, but still remained steadfast. “I made a bargain-“ He was cut of by your growl, your mind shot back to those nights sleeping in The Middle, fighting creatures older than Prythian itself. “No, you signed our potential death certificate.” You could tell your anger had burned its way down the bond from the way he flinched at your words. Your expression twisted into one of grief as you got caught up in the memories that flooded into your head, the starving, the sweat, the smell of death, of your family lying slaughtered in the middle of the village.
“It may be your court, Rhys. But it’s my home. One I chose to make with you, but one I could’ve and will make without you.”
You barely had time to realize your mental shields had gone crumbling down before you felt him in your head. You felt your memories being consumed by him as your face paled, eyes widening. You jerked as more memories were pulled from you, of the cold, the trek from the Winter Court, frostbite nipping your fingertips. The feel of the pathetic little dagger in your hand as you took your first life. The feel of your dry lips as you crossed the border into the Dawn Court, stumbling and delirious. The feel of your ribs as you put on a stolen shirt you had nabbed from a street vendor. The scream that was ripped from you as a knife shredded through your wings like paper-
You shoved him, hard and unyielding, mental shields slamming up as you forced him out of your head. “LEAVE.” You shouted so loud an echo could be heard from the forest, your power unintentionally carrying your voice as you saw flocks of birds being roused from the trees. You felt the adrenaline coursing through you and how it burned through your veins, searing your nerves and numbing you out as you trembled. Your power flowed through you, begging to be unleashed, slamming against the bars of its cage like a rabid animal.
You breathed heavy, tightening your tether on your power in an attempt to keep it leashed as Rhys looked at you like your memories had broken him. “GO!” You screamed, your voice cracking with the word. Rhys seemed to flinch, and a flash of understanding seemed to grace his features. Nonetheless, he obliged, backing up into the small clearing in front of your cabin. He glanced at you one last time, his expression mirroring one of guilt before you sent a rush of wind towards him in warning. His lips pursed, but his wings unfurled as they finally caught the wind, propelling him off the ground and into the air.
Just like that he was gone, leaving you breathing heavily. Sharp tremors still plagued you, and you clasped your shaky hands together in an effort to stop their incessant wrath. You stood there for a minute, out on the porch, listening to the wind whistle through the trees and the scurry of animals and no doubt other creatures that lurked in the forest. For the first time since you arrived at the cabin, you held a certain gratitude for the cold that bit at you, the temperature doing more to aid you in your attempts to ground yourself than much else.
You jumped when you felt a silky mist brush up against your arm, your form flinching as you turned around. You braced yourself, mentally preparing yourself to go toe to toe with a creature that inhabited the forest around you. But what you didn’t expect was to see another pair of wings and an entourage of shadows shrouding a man leaning against the doorway.
You were still shaking as you regarded him, you swallowed thickly, throat feeling like sandpaper. “How long have you been here?” You asked, voice trembling. You mentally cursed yourself, hand coming to rake through your hair. “A while.” He replied, his shadows still seemed to reach out to you, brushing up against you like they sensed your unease beyond your visible shakiness. Your eyes flickered to them for the briefest of moments before they trailed back to him.
“You knew where I was the whole time.” You said, the remark more of a statement than a question. He inclined his head towards you in a motion which told you that you were correct. “I think deep down we all know that he’s changed since Under the Mountain- you both have.” His arms were folded, sleeves rolled up to display the black ink that cascaded down his arms. Your wings folded in again, the action caught his eye, and he let out a sigh as his figure seemed to sag as he noticed how stand-offish you seemed.
You looked at your hands, the shaking seemed to have subsided the slightest bit as you ran your thumb over your palm. “Is he bringing her back?” You asked. You didn’t want to seem too eager to know the answer to the question, but you knew Azriel would rather you be upfront than try to bring it up later- especially not knowing when you were going to go back to Velaris.
Azriel looked at you for a long while, and you remained. You felt the worn-down wood of the cabin porch beneath your feet, the slight breeze that pushed your hair into your face, and the silence that rung between the two of you. Perhaps you knew the answer before he said it, perhaps you knew it before you had even asked the question, but it didn’t make it any less world shattering as he spoke.
“Yes.”
That one word, three letters that seemed to rip apart any hope you had left of Rhys seeing what it would do to his court, to Prythian, to you. Fifty years of suffering- the disregard of what Amarantha did to you- of what you went through in the Winter Court. You didn’t have it in yourself to be angry anymore, you felt your rage be ripped from you, violently and mercilessly. You felt the emotion rip out what was left in your chest until you were just... numb. You had given up, the dull throbbing echoing the hole in your chest like an agonizing melody. You hadn’t even been able to begin to feel the warm tears slide down your cheeks, gave no reaction, just asked in a wobbly, barely-there voice.
“To Velaris?”
Azriel’s jaw clenched.
“Yes.”
You didn’t say anything, let the silence linger in the doorway, you didn’t have anything to fill it with. Azriel pushed off the door, taking a step towards you like he was going to say something- try to say anything that could make this a little more bearable for you. But it was clear- you both knew it; Rhys had made his choice.
So you brushed past him, didn’t look at him- didn’t have to in order to know that he was reaching out to you, much like his shadows as they clung onto you like phantoms. But you ignored them, passing the threshold into the now cold cabin- the fire having gone out long ago.
Summary: You walk in on Rhysand and Morrigan talking about bringing a certain Cursebreaker back to the Night Court. When the destruction of your home started off in a similar situation - how far will you go to convince Rhysand it's a bad idea?
Read pt. 2 to Wiped Off the Map - HERE
Warnings: Profanity, angst.
“She’s not coming back to our court.” You said, your tone biting through any excuse Rhysand threw your way. “Her presence on Night Court soil will start a war.” You tapped your finger on the table to emphasize your point, your eyes narrowing as you saw Rhys’ harden in determination.
“She needs help.” He reasoned, your lips pursed, a pulse of frustration running through you. “She can get it somewhere else, she’s Cursebreaker, she has everyone falling at her feet.” You spat, feeling a spark of anger begin to roil through you. You took a deep, shuddering breath that had Cassian sending you a pointed look.
You had just come back from training, your chest heaving as you greedily sucked down mouthfuls of air, eager to soothe the burning in your lungs. You could still feel the sweat slide down your back, grimacing at the feeling as you brushed away a sweat soaked strand of hair from your vision.
Your eyes locked on Rhys and Morrigan talking about the girl in question, and a pang of fear had struck you so deep you felt your magic force the mountain to shudder beneath you. The event sending the pairs eyes shooting in your direction. They both knew your past, the destruction the same action they were debating right now had reaped on your family’s camp. But their concern for the girl seemed to trump their consideration for your past and by proxy, their entire fucking court.
“A war is going to happen either way.” Morrigan offered, her maroon dress shifting as she turned in her chair to regard you. Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth coming to hang open as you looked at her incredulously. “So you decide to burn bridges now- are you two fucking with me right now? Do you even realize what this will do to our relations with the Spring Court? Not to mention- the entirety of fucking Prythian.” You waved your hands across the room, as if you could encompass the entirety of the continent in a single sweep. A bitter laugh escaped you, your body in complete disbelief that they were even considering this for a moment.
“She has abilities from every court, that may be worth sacrificing relations with Spring- they’re already strained enough as it is. She is more of an asset than anything.” Rhysand said, sending a look at Cassian. You had no doubt the two were talking amongst themselves, and it only sent more anger coursing through you.
Another tremble shook the mountain which had Rhys looking at you in warning. Morrigan looked between you two, her lips pursed. “You mean powers she doesn’t even know she has? Where are you going to put this girl? Are you going to keep leaving us here to clean up your messes while you go play house at Hewn City?” Morrigan bristled at the mention of the Court of Nightmares, her figure going tense. You noted Cassian steping closer to you two, ready to save the mountain from being destroyed should you start a brawl. You felt a slam against your mental shields so hard you physically recoiled, staggering a step. “Stay the fuck out of my head.” You growled, Morrigan looked at her cousin in shock, surprised at the fact he’d actually try to get past your mental shields. Your anger simmered into a rage, your expression twisting. “You better not think you’re bringing her anywhere near Velaris. You keep dropping everything for this girl as if she’s part of your duties or some shit. It’s a bargain Rhys- one that’s optional on your part. I’m beginning to think you prefer playing dad then spending time with your family- that in case you have forgotten- you’ve left here for half a century.”
Cassian sucked in a breath. Morrigan looked like you had just slapped her. Rhys’ eyebrows rose, but he stared at you silently. Your breaths and the soft ticking of the clock were the only sounds heard as you stared at him, your eyes conveying just how abandoned you’d felt since Under the Mountain.
Nobody dared to speak, nobody moved as you looked between them. You seemed to sag as you realized he wasn’t going to cave. You bit your lip, your head falling as you shook your head. You looked back up, seeing Cassian eyeing you in sympathy, and you felt your eyes begin to sting as your jaw clenched.
“Y’know what Rhysand? You may act like you know what you’re doing, but ever since we came back from Under the Mountain, your priorities have been severely out of line.” Your heart chipped a little bit as your memories flashed back to that dark, agonizing place. Your wings folded tightly to you, the action purely muscle memory from having to keep them tucked in to fit through the passageways.
A scowl grew on your face, and you sent Cassian and Morrigan a glance before turning toward the stairs. “Let me know when you get them back in order.” You said coldly. You didn’t look back at the trio as you came to the landing and took them two at a time. You thought about how Cassian hadn’t spoken the whole exchange, and another flood of anger rushed through you at his inability to back you up. You passed Azriel on the way up and ignored the way his shadows seemed to reach out to you, as if in comfort. You didn’t allow yourself to look up at him either, you knew his face would be blank and you didn’t think you could take more indifference.
You wanted nothing to do with anyone until they realized what this meant for Prythian. One stupid girl, and they were ready to go to war for her at the drop of a hat. Your scowl only grew as you made your way up to the roof, and didn’t think twice before you sent yourself soaring off it.
You knew this was partially immature, you knew they would send themselves into a frenzy when they found your room empty the next morning, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you thought about how this one decision would bring the Night Court to its knees.
You would disappear. Until Rhys saw reason, and until the rest of them stopped following him so blindly. Just like Under the Mountain, you weren’t going to allow Rhys to make decisions for you. And just like after that tiny village on the border of the Winter Court was wiped from the map, you were alone.
