I write for most ACOTAR characters and will eventually open requests for other fandoms. I’m just in my SJM era rn. Feel free to request blurbs, imagines/one shots, headcanons, etc.!
Sorry for lack of interaction/updates, it’s been a wild last two months to say the least. From illnesses, injuries, my apt flooding and having to move, and overall just life things 🙃 all I have had time/energy to really do is read when I’m not doing anything.
I finished Fourth Wing last night and wheeeww I threw my phone and screamed at the plot twist at the end— I AM HOOKED.
With that being said new hyper fixation on top of my Acotar fixation 🤣🤣
But life should be chilling out (hopefully—this has been an expensive and chaotic last two months and I hate it) hopefully I can get some work out in the next couple weeks I’m starting to feel creative again, and my new apt is so cozy if I could I would just lock myself in here and dedicate it to writing bc I WANT TO WRITE SO DANG BAD
Take as much time as you need 🩷🩷 and take care of yourself😠 (meant in a mom voice)
But seriously take as much time as you need. I’ve have accidentally overworked myself a couple of times especially with writing to the point it felt like a chore and had to take a breather.
Here’s some chocolate 🍫🍫
Have a great day🩷🩷
You’re so sweet!! 💗
I’ve definitely been there before and don’t want to get to that point again.
Thank you for all the kinds messages, feedback, requests, and support for my fics! I really appreciate everyone so much 💗💗✨
An update since it’s my first night off in a few days and will be a busy next few weeks!
- Actively working on Touch in the Dark pt2
-Keep rewriting POFA pt5 bc I have a vision where I want it to go but I can’t execute it
-have started multiple requests
I’ve been reading ACOSF in the mean time when I’m at work. I have to wear gloves at my job and sometimes it’s a hit or miss if the gloves fit well enough making it easier/harder to type on my phone LMAOOO, and this past rotation they fit so horribleee. I didn’t even text anyone back until my breaks lol. Also party planing for one of my best friends birthday and preparing to visit my mother in law this weekend. 🫣🫨
My heads spinnin a bit atm ngl, I’m never this busy. I’ve always been a homebody and keep to myself lol. My inner battery is not used to it, so I’m learning to adapt and keep it pushing.
Author’s note: I got really inspired w this one and got carried away per usual! This is going to be a mini fic at most a 3 part!!
⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃
The sensuous tremor of the music rumbled through the room. Another night for Amarantha to make a fool of someone, you thought as you arrived at her throne room with your brothers. You stood by Eris, a mask of a scowl on your face as you watched her court be merry—if that’s why you could call it. All dancing, grinding on one another, drinking the fae wine, and over indulging on food. To be so fortunate to think this prison was homely must have been an ignorant bliss you hadn’t had the privilege to think. You had hardly found the appetite to eat twice a day if it weren’t for your eldest brother and mother.
Years turned into decades, and the relentless tyranny of the red-headed woman felt like an eternity. As your brothers dispersed into the crowd, you remained with Eris. Due to Lucien’s escape from your father’s suffocating grasp, Eris became your closest ally.
“What’s your strategy for tonight?” Eris queried, both of you observing the crowd.
Nonchalantly adjusting your gown’s sleeves, you responded, “Check on mother, evade father and our brothers, and hope Amarantha doesn’t summon me.”
“Stay inconspicuous, Y/n,” Eris cautioned, his gaze piercing. “I’m serious.”
You scoffed, “Easier said than done.”
“Father’s aware of your recent…activities.”
You bit your lip, of course he did. He always learned what bidding Amarantha made you do—not like you could avoid it. Either suffer at the hands of that cruel woman or suffer from the hands of your father. You had experienced both, and your father’s sadist ways were getting off easy nowadays.
“You think our court’s morals matter down here, Eris?” You retorted curtly.
“You can still have modesty,” he bit back. “When we get out of here, nobody will ever want you after hearing how many nobles and lords you’ve bedded.”
Your eyes flashed with anger, “you know I have no say in the matter. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Pushing past him, you needed distance from the constant reminders of your grim reality.
Scanning the room, you took a wine-filled goblet from a passing servant. Settling at a secluded table, and sighing. You hadn’t known why Amarantha had made you one of her harlots. It took you years to comply with the bidding before finally letting go of your morality.
“I knew I could smell filth, Lady Fox.” A voice purred from behind you. You tensed as the Night Court High Lord, Rhysand, took a seat next to you. The despair you had felt turned into an ice with close proximity to the dark haired violet eyed male.
“Are you sure those aren’t Amarantha’s sheets you just rolled in that you’re smelling?” You replied smoothly.
He narrowed his eyes at you, “did Tarquin not satisfy you enough? Or did you not collect enough secrets for her liking last night and got punished?”
Rhysand could be insufferable. He had always held a disdain toward you, one that started as unwarranted until it was. You had once been a close friend to his cousin, Morrigan. Both of you were able to bond over the fact both your families hated females and only saw them as property and assets. Then your brothers had left her for dead in the woods of your court when they found she had been sullied. A note from her parents nailed to her womb.
You had mourned quietly for days for her, until Eris had broken through the wards you put up so no one could bother you. Everyone associated you to be just as cruel and nasty like your father and brothers—never taking into consideration you were your own person. Had considered the actions your family have done wounded you, and you always paid a price for them. No friends that weren’t actually friends, only scared of the consequences if they didn’t hang around you. No one you could trust without fear they’d report everything you have said to your family. That alone filled you with enough spite and resentment to become the vision everyone already had perceived you as.
“He was quite satisfactory,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass. It was average at best, you wouldn’t let the deceitful high lord know.
Since you had been locked under this Mother forsaken place, he had been damn near the bane of your existence. Always going the extra mile to make this living nightmare a living hell for you. Poking and prodding you, knowing you couldn’t do much in retaliation.
He gave you a disgusted look and caught a servant on their way out of the room with a tray of drinks. He leaned over and plucked one off the platter like you had done prior. You couldn’t help but notice as he leaned over where his tattoos peaked from under his shirt, lashings danced over his taut back underneath the dark fabric. Your scowl had turned to frown.
“Did you not satisfy her majesty last night?” There was no venom to your words. You hadn’t known the prized possession of Amarantha had still been punished like her little spies and sex workers. You thought he got off easy since she still allowed him some of his magic, offered him one of the best suites in this prison, and more authority than anyone else down here.
He cooly leaned back, adjusting his shirt as if he knew what you saw. Then taking the drink down his throat in one gulp. He used his sleeve to wipe the drop that dropped from the corner of his mouth. His violet eyes meeting yours, a dangerous warning in those orbs.
“I wouldn’t go snooping around, Lady Fox.” Was all he said, getting up from the table and melded into the crowd of courtiers.
⭒❃.✮
The thin fabric worsened the sting of your back as it moved against the wounds that had been inflicted on you hours prior. You quietly snuck out of your family’s suite feeling suffocated being in the same vicinity as them. After the underwhelming festivities of the night your father had cornered you with your elder brothers in the suite, no Eris or your mother in sight. The poker from the fireplace in his hand, and your brothers ripping your dress down the back, constraining you.
The shame you brought upon this family was all that you could hear echoing off the halls, though they were eerily silent. Filthy whore scratching down your mind as the friction of fabric on your back reminded you of the burning iron that branded your skin. You had walked mindlessly through the halls, trying to escape your thoughts. To grasp whatever sanity was left in your mind. You no longer cried when punished, only letting the fire that was dampered for now simmer inside you. You learned crying only fed the cruelty of your father and brothers.
You sat at the top of the main staircase that led to all the suites under the mountain. You clenched your teeth, hissing, as you shrugged down the straps of your nightgown so the cold air could hit the hot wounds. Bending over, hugging your knees and rocking, getting accustomed to the chill.
“It’s not wise to be out of your suite at night, Lady Fox.” That familiar chastising voice filled the silent halls. You looked up to see Rhysand walking up the stairs towards you. You straightened up, wincing, tugging the straps up to your nightgown.
“Couldn’t I say the same?” You mustered a sneer. He was still in his clothes from earlier, slightly crumpled and wrinkled now. You could smell Amarantha on him, making your nose crinkle.
“Pain doesn’t suit you.” He said simply. “Take a walk with me.” He reached out. You hesitantly looked at his outstretched hand he offered. “I won’t bite or scold you.”
You let him take your smaller dainty hand into his rough calloused one. Fighting the seethe and sharp intake of breath as he helped you up, your muscles sore from exhaustion.
You two didn’t talk as he led you through the halls of suites. His hand still holding yours, you wondered if he had realized it. You were too numb to care or admit that warmth brought slight comfort.
“You’re not bringing me to her, are you?” You whispered. You two walked in a wing you weren’t familiar with, and your blood ran slightly cold with every step you took with the High Lord.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun tonight, Lady Fox?” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “I’m not as cruel as you Vanserra’s.” You gave him a side eye, him only offering a tight lipped smile.
He led you to a door, opening it and letting you in first. He closed the door, locking it behind him. With a snap of his fingers the fireplace roared to life, causing you to flinch. It was a bedroom. His bedroom.
“I didn’t realize you actually occupied your bedroom, I thought you rumpled about hers every night.” You said icily, taking all the details of the room in.
A large bed in the middle neatly made with dark silk sheets, a fur lined duvet, and a knitted throw blanket at the end. A dark mantled fireplace with a couple chairs in front. A wardrobe and dresser against the wall, and a door that you assumed led to a bathroom.
“She would be so fortunate to have me grace her bedroom every night.” A feline smile on his lips, his teeth brightly gleaming in the firelight. “Take a seat.” He made a gesture with his head to his bed. He walked through the door in the corner, hearing him rummage through some cabinets as you sat on the edge of the plush mattress.
Your bed wasn’t even this comfortable, you thought as you rolled your shoulders in discomfort. He came back out moments later with medical supplies and in some night clothes. He set them on the stand next to the bed, and sat next to you.
He went to reach for the straps of your nightgown, but pulled away slightly. “Do you mind?” He asked. You shook your head as you faced away from him. He took the straps and slid them down your arms. His touch was surprisingly gentle, being careful as the fabric slightly stuck to your wounds pulling your gown down. He cursed under his breath as he saw what your father had done. You're sure he had seen the healed wounds that littered your back as well, you had more than you could count by now from even before under the mountain.
Another silence had fallen upon the two of you, with only quiet hisses as he cleaned your back. Your eyes blankly staring at the poker by the fireplace.
The centuries of existence you would have never thought that Rhysand would be tending to your wounds—maybe causing them, but never gingerly applying tonic and bandages to your spine. Your shoulders tensed as he brushed some hair away, his fingers sending goosebumps down your arms.
“What would you do if we were finally freed?” He asked thoughtfully.
Your breath stilled at the question. “I-I don’t know.” You stammered.
“Would you leave the Autumn Court?” He dabbed at your back. You had thought numerous times about leaving. Like your brother had.
You cleared your throat, “I couldn’t leave my mother with them by herself.” Your father treated her atrociously, and she had been the only one to show you true love. You had often opted to take the brunt of your father’s brute behavior to save her from it, if you could help it. He only hummed in response at your answer.
“What would you do?”
“I would visit my mother’s old home in Illyria.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer. You bit your lip, you had heard from Lucien what happened about what happened to Rhysand’s mother and sister. You had thought your family had been cruel, but Tamlin’s were gods awful. Tamlin still proved to be awful, he was the reason you all had been under the mountain. You were able to at least sympathize with him on that.
“The Spring Court revels in anguish.” Was all you could say.
He chuckled darkly, “always. Reckoning will come for them soon.” All of you. It had been forty eight years of this curse, it was quickly creeping up to fifty. Soon everyone would feel that reckoning. He finished bandaging your back, smoothing them all over.
He got up to put the supplies away, leaving you awkwardly feeling exposed, sitting there with your nightgown only covering your lower half. You started to pull it up, but he came out with a dark cotton shirt. He handed it to you. His eyes stayed locked on yours as you took the shirt.
“You can sleep here, I’ll wake you before the servants and guards start roaming.” He told you as you slipped the shirt over your head, standing up to discard your blood stained nightgown from yourself. The shirt had stopped mid thigh, the cool air hitting your legs.
“Thank you,” you murmured as you set the soiled gown on the chair by the fireplace. “You didn’t have to help me.”
“She’s expecting you to do some bidding later. Can’t have you restless and burned. The scars should be gone by then.” He said void of emotion, but you saw a flash of something unreadable in those eyes as he spoke. He untucked the sheets and blankets for you.
There had been a reason for his motives in helping you, of course. Not just out of pure kindness. You felt stupid for not thinking of that in the first place.
“I’ll sleep in the chair.” He grabbed the throw.
You got in the bed, pulling the covers up, the feeling of the silk soft on your bare skin. “This is your bed, it’s big enough for us both.”
“Inviting me to bed already?” He smirked at you. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and he merely smiled walking to the other side. “No funny business.” He mocked sternly, slipping under the covers.
You rolled your eyes, before turning on your side away from him. “Goodnight.”
“G’night Lady Fox.” He snapped his fingers, the fire smoldering to just coals. Letting the sound of smoldering ember lull you to a restless sleep.
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I hope you enjoyed the first part! Feel free to like, reblog, reply with feedback!! My requests are open to request any idea for fics, blurbs, or headcanons!!
A request for Rhys and reader. The reader is a Vanserra, the only daughter, & he doesn’t like her from either a previous encounter or she has a bad reputation & perhaps they encounter each other again, maybe Under The Mountain, but realizes he misjudged her. She sympathizes with Rhys and understands his situation or can she through the villain role his playing.💕💕
Idk if I’m doing this ask justice, but it’s going to be a mini fic bc I felt so inspired from it lol! I hope you enjoy 🫣💗
You hated traveling to the war camps. Especially in the winter. Even as you walked arm in arm pressed up as close as you could against your mate, Azriel, the heat did not help against the bitter wind and cold nipping at your face. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel had been here just paying their usual visit to make sure Lord Devlon was doing his job and ensuring the girls were training. They had been here for a few days already and you had desperately missed Az that you swallowed your pride and hatred towards the camp and Illyrian culture to see your mate. You hadn’t let him know you were coming, it was a surprise, a damn good one indeed.
Not only was the shock evident on his face as you winnowed into the middle of the camp. His shadows had excitedly darted to you in greeting as soon as he caught your scent from the dark swirling clouds winnowing. The Illyrian warriors were taken back as well. Disgust and surprise written all over their faces, but you didn’t care. You practically ran to Azriel giddily greeting him with a kiss on his cheek as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. He tried to keep his mask of iciness on, but you could feel his toothy grin in the crook of your neck, his dissolve fading in your arms.
He led you around the camp, telling you all the updates, and you filled him in on what you had spent the last few days doing in Velaris. You watched as the warriors trained in the sparring rings. Then you came to a sparring ring with a couple girls cornered by some higher ranked warrior commanders. You halted in your steps, causing Azriel to stop mid sentence.
“You’re supposed to be doing your chores.” One of the males said to the young girls who had to be no older than twelve. His siphons were half the size of the girl’s head.
“W-we’re done, the high lord said we could train as we pleased.” She stammered.
“There is always work to be done.” Another warrior countered back. “The sparring ring is no place for a girl, no matter what the high lord says.” Azriel tensed at that, and you looked up to your mate biting your lip anxiously. You had let go of his arm, on alert for what was about to unfold.
“The high lord’s orders go above yours.” The other girl stepped up to the male ten times her size. Defiance in her small voice as she pushed the other girl behind her. Satisfaction prickled at your skin, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well. The males scoffed and glowered towards them. Your face and ears heated.
“The high lord doesn’t have a say in your punishment though.” One grabbed the more defiant girl’s arm. She tried to get out of his clutch, but he was far more stronger than her. Azriel was ready to walk towards them, but you beat him to it. Rage filled you to the point you had tunnel vision, marching over. How dare these assholes.
“Hey! You let them go!” You yelled at the warriors as another grabbed the other girl. She was shaking in his grasp, scared out of her mind, a terrified look in her brown eyes as she made eye contact with you.
The warriors laughed at you as you approached. “I didn’t realize they opened camp borders to courtiers.” One mocked you while the other bellowed even louder. You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling the familiar sensation in your bones. Azriel tugged on the bond as warning, but you ignored him. Other warriors and workers had stopped what they were doing, noticing the commotion.
You clenched your gloved fists, “it would be wise if you did as I say.”
“What or you'll file a formal complaint with the high lord?” He sneered sarcastically. You could feel your blood get hot and the taste of magic tang on your tongue. A wave of power rolled off you settling over the camp.
The one that seemed the most powerful walked towards you, his nostrils flared like he was a wild beast. “You have no authority in this camp.”
Azriel tugged again on the invisible thread that connected you two together. A silent reassuring stroke that gave you the silent permission to let go of your control if needed.
“I am one of the high lord’s secondhand commands, I see that as good enough authority.” You stuck your nose high up, not intimidated by the size of a warrior. He continued towards you like a predator. He wanted you to be his prey. Unfortunately for him, you had considered yourself a much more dangerous predator. Already prowling and circling around him, getting ready to pounce.
“I believe that means my authority outranks your authority.” You said almost too casually. “Now as I said before—let. them. go.”
The two warriors behind the aloof meathead in front of you now looked wary towards your opposition. But they held a firm grip on the young girls, the one in front of you puffing out his chest, wings flaring as wide as they could go.
“You are no more than a fae female to me,” he got mere inches from your face looking down at you with a disgusting rage. You could feel specks of saliva hit your face as he spoke, but you didn’t flinch. “And you know what we do to fae females? We take them into the forest in the middle of the night and we sully—“
Before he could finish, he dropped to the ground howling in agony writhing in the mud. You just merely narrowed your eyes, twisting the invisible ropes around his mind and body. Your daemati powers had overtaken your instincts with every twist you envisioned.
“What was that?” You asked innocently, slamming your heavy icy muddy boot atop his abdomen. He hissed, snarling at you like a rabid animal trying to fight the power that you coursed through him. You dug the heel of your boot with a bruising force. The crowd that circled gone quiet with the roar of the Illyrian male that convulsed under your boot.
“Now you listen to me,” you bent down looking at him, forcing his eyes to look towards you. His face beet red, eyes bulging in horror as you infiltrated his brain further. No mental shields, just a wide open gate to walk through. “You let the girls train and you don’t bother them ever. I don’t want you to even breathe their way again, and if I ever—ever hear a word about you going against the high lord’s or my order…” you lunged into the deepest part of his mind.
I’ll personally clip your wings myself. You had threatened him mentally.
You released the invisible force upon him, and lifted your boot from his abdomen. He rolled away, panting to catch his breath. You looked up from him and saw the two warriors holding the girls. You strided towards them, and they all but threw the young illyrians in your direction. Both of landing on the ground with a hard thud.
“W-what are you?” The one male asked terrified, backing away with the other.
You glared at them, “that’s none of your concern. What is your concern is bringing your commander to first aid before you end up like him.” They kept still, watching you bend down to the two girls. “Now!” You demanded. They scurried off like field mice to their brother who laid in the mud nearly unconscious.
Bringing your attention to girls, smiling softly at their scared faces. They rubbed their arms where the men had gripped them. “Did they hurt you?” You asked.
“I’m not sure,” the more timid one answered first, rolling up her long sleeve to check. You gently examined the forming bruise around her arm, frowning slightly.
“You two were so courageous to stick up to them. You will both be strong warriors one day.” You looked at the other’s arm. Her arm is much more swollen than her friend’s. You smiled reassuringly at them, “I’ll have someone bring you two to our house to have the healer tend to you.” You took a hold of both their hands, helping them up, leading them to your mate and friends.
“Cassian get a healer to the house,” Azriel asked for you, wholly keeping his eyes locked on you.
“Of course,” Cassian winked at you slyly when he passed. Proceeding to yell at everyone to get back to work while he made his way to the first aid tent. Rhys chuckled, patting Azriel on the shoulder.
“I know,” He guided the girls to his mother’s old house by your request, leaving you and Azriel alone.
His eyes were still fixated on you, hazel orbs shining brightly, mouth slightly agape. He didn’t have to say anything because you felt it. Adoration, pride, and pure love swelled down the bond.
I absolutely adore you. He spoke to you mentally. You caressed the shadows that even swirled in his mind, stroking gently. His wings rustled slightly, unable to contain it.
Wrapping his arm around you, he led you to the house to go check on the girls. A couple people still looked at you with terrifed expressions. Azriel’s lip curled upward to ghost of smirk before kissing your brow sweetly. You were his fearless mate.
i'm not sure how to feel about the oc in the pursuit of feeling alive but now azriel is kinda making me mad too
I hope that doesn’t discourage you from continuing on reading. I kinda wanted to make them both insufferable for a point, since oc is just going through it. Same w Az. Thank you for the feedback though 🫶
All I’m letting you guys know is next thing that’s being posted probably is a Nessian x reader request, and IM CRYING SCREAMING GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET THROWING UP WRITING IT… but also pls be gentle bc it’s my first time writing a throuple lmaooo
You hated traveling to the war camps. Especially in the winter. Even as you walked arm in arm pressed up as close as you could against your mate, Azriel, the heat did not help against the bitter wind and cold nipping at your face. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel had been here just paying their usual visit to make sure Lord Devlon was doing his job and ensuring the girls were training. They had been here for a few days already and you had desperately missed Az that you swallowed your pride and hatred towards the camp and Illyrian culture to see your mate. You hadn’t let him know you were coming, it was a surprise, a damn good one indeed.
Not only was the shock evident on his face as you winnowed into the middle of the camp. His shadows had excitedly darted to you in greeting as soon as he caught your scent from the dark swirling clouds winnowing. The Illyrian warriors were taken back as well. Disgust and surprise written all over their faces, but you didn’t care. You practically ran to Azriel giddily greeting him with a kiss on his cheek as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. He tried to keep his mask of iciness on, but you could feel his toothy grin in the crook of your neck, his dissolve fading in your arms.
He led you around the camp, telling you all the updates, and you filled him in on what you had spent the last few days doing in Velaris. You watched as the warriors trained in the sparring rings. Then you came to a sparring ring with a couple girls cornered by some higher ranked warrior commanders. You halted in your steps, causing Azriel to stop mid sentence.
“You’re supposed to be doing your chores.” One of the males said to the young girls who had to be no older than twelve. His siphons were half the size of the girl’s head.
“W-we’re done, the high lord said we could train as we pleased.” She stammered.
“There is always work to be done.” Another warrior countered back. “The sparring ring is no place for a girl, no matter what the high lord says.” Azriel tensed at that, and you looked up to your mate biting your lip anxiously. You had let go of his arm, on alert for what was about to unfold.
“The high lord’s orders go above yours.” The other girl stepped up to the male ten times her size. Defiance in her small voice as she pushed the other girl behind her. Satisfaction prickled at your skin, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well. The males scoffed and glowered towards them. Your face and ears heated.
“The high lord doesn’t have a say in your punishment though.” One grabbed the more defiant girl’s arm. She tried to get out of his clutch, but he was far more stronger than her. Azriel was ready to walk towards them, but you beat him to it. Rage filled you to the point you had tunnel vision, marching over. How dare these assholes.
“Hey! You let them go!” You yelled at the warriors as another grabbed the other girl. She was shaking in his grasp, scared out of her mind, a terrified look in her brown eyes as she made eye contact with you.
The warriors laughed at you as you approached. “I didn’t realize they opened camp borders to courtiers.” One mocked you while the other bellowed even louder. You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling the familiar sensation in your bones. Azriel tugged on the bond as warning, but you ignored him. Other warriors and workers had stopped what they were doing, noticing the commotion.
You clenched your gloved fists, “it would be wise if you did as I say.”
“What or you'll file a formal complaint with the high lord?” He sneered sarcastically. You could feel your blood get hot and the taste of magic tang on your tongue. A wave of power rolled off you settling over the camp.
The one that seemed the most powerful walked towards you, his nostrils flared like he was a wild beast. “You have no authority in this camp.”
Azriel tugged again on the invisible thread that connected you two together. A silent reassuring stroke that gave you the silent permission to let go of your control if needed.
“I am one of the high lord’s secondhand commands, I see that as good enough authority.” You stuck your nose high up, not intimidated by the size of a warrior. He continued towards you like a predator. He wanted you to be his prey. Unfortunately for him, you had considered yourself a much more dangerous predator. Already prowling and circling around him, getting ready to pounce.
“I believe that means my authority outranks your authority.” You said almost too casually. “Now as I said before—let. them. go.”
The two warriors behind the aloof meathead in front of you now looked wary towards your opposition. But they held a firm grip on the young girls, the one in front of you puffing out his chest, wings flaring as wide as they could go.
“You are no more than a fae female to me,” he got mere inches from your face looking down at you with a disgusting rage. You could feel specks of saliva hit your face as he spoke, but you didn’t flinch. “And you know what we do to fae females? We take them into the forest in the middle of the night and we sully—“
Before he could finish, he dropped to the ground howling in agony writhing in the mud. You just merely narrowed your eyes, twisting the invisible ropes around his mind and body. Your daemati powers had overtaken your instincts with every twist you envisioned.
“What was that?” You asked innocently, slamming your heavy icy muddy boot atop his abdomen. He hissed, snarling at you like a rabid animal trying to fight the power that you coursed through him. You dug the heel of your boot with a bruising force. The crowd that circled gone quiet with the roar of the Illyrian male that convulsed under your boot.
“Now you listen to me,” you bent down looking at him, forcing his eyes to look towards you. His face beet red, eyes bulging in horror as you infiltrated his brain further. No mental shields, just a wide open gate to walk through. “You let the girls train and you don’t bother them ever. I don’t want you to even breathe their way again, and if I ever—ever hear a word about you going against the high lord’s or my order…” you lunged into the deepest part of his mind.
I’ll personally clip your wings myself. You had threatened him mentally.
You released the invisible force upon him, and lifted your boot from his abdomen. He rolled away, panting to catch his breath. You looked up from him and saw the two warriors holding the girls. You strided towards them, and they all but threw the young illyrians in your direction. Both of landing on the ground with a hard thud.
“W-what are you?” The one male asked terrified, backing away with the other.
You glared at them, “that’s none of your concern. What is your concern is bringing your commander to first aid before you end up like him.” They kept still, watching you bend down to the two girls. “Now!” You demanded. They scurried off like field mice to their brother who laid in the mud nearly unconscious.
Bringing your attention to girls, smiling softly at their scared faces. They rubbed their arms where the men had gripped them. “Did they hurt you?” You asked.
“I’m not sure,” the more timid one answered first, rolling up her long sleeve to check. You gently examined the forming bruise around her arm, frowning slightly.
“You two were so courageous to stick up to them. You will both be strong warriors one day.” You looked at the other’s arm. Her arm is much more swollen than her friend’s. You smiled reassuringly at them, “I’ll have someone bring you two to our house to have the healer tend to you.” You took a hold of both their hands, helping them up, leading them to your mate and friends.
“Cassian get a healer to the house,” Azriel asked for you, wholly keeping his eyes locked on you.
“Of course,” Cassian winked at you slyly when he passed. Proceeding to yell at everyone to get back to work while he made his way to the first aid tent. Rhys chuckled, patting Azriel on the shoulder.
“I know,” He guided the girls to his mother’s old house by your request, leaving you and Azriel alone.
His eyes were still fixated on you, hazel orbs shining brightly, mouth slightly agape. He didn’t have to say anything because you felt it. Adoration, pride, and pure love swelled down the bond.
I absolutely adore you. He spoke to you mentally. You caressed the shadows that even swirled in his mind, stroking gently. His wings rustled slightly, unable to contain it.
Wrapping his arm around you, he led you to the house to go check on the girls. A couple people still looked at you with terrifed expressions. Azriel’s lip curled upward to ghost of smirk before kissing your brow sweetly. You were his fearless mate.
For a blurb what abt Reader who is mated to Azriel goes like batshit on some misogynistic Illyrian’s and everyone is like kinda scared of her and Azriel is just like ‘that’s my wifey🫶🫶’ and is giving literal heart eyes while she puts everyone in their place
I’d like to take some requests/prompts for some blurbs, one-shots, headcanons, etc. for ACOTAR and Fourth Wing characters. Pls send them my way and I’ll get to them when I can 🫶
