Fated Mates - Blog Posts
Acotar headcanon:
Okay, so you know how when Nesta is kidnapped and forced to perform the blood rite, Cassian is freaking out thinking that she could be dead and he might not even know it. Then Azriel assures him that if she died Cassian would know because they are mates….
Well what if there was a fae (maybe Azriel, idk) and they lived in Pythian but their mate was mortal and lived in another world (I definitely think that some mates are currently separated by worlds). And since they are mortal every time they die their fated mate feels it. Same with every time they are reincarnated (I also think that in the SJM universe characters are reincarnated) (more on that theory later)
And I stay winning 🌷🌷🌷
Your essence captivates the heart,
In every version, your a work of art.
I released a book today in time for the upcoming #spookyseason
The conficting emotions that cause tension in the room are creating a friction that makes the room heat. The silence is echoing off the walls as they vibrate from the passing train a couple miles away.
"Lisichka." His voice is low and velvety breaks through the silence, feeding the fierce blaze that is standing just in front of him.
"No, don't lishka me." She shoots not caring how she butchered the name. She fixed her posture to be straighter as she looks dead into the eyes of the Devil himself. "You do not own me." She took a step closer, closing the gap between them. Realizing too late as she felt the air surrounding her electrify. "You believe you hold some sort of power over me. Telling me I'm your mate, that this feeling is all because of a pull the so-called 'Lunar Goddess' blessed us with." Her voice began lifting in pitch as she filled her words with emotion. "How do you expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth? After what I witnessed, I can't imagine what good could come out of me being here with you."
The heat in the room was scorching, at any moment a wild fire would start. The silence began once again causing a sigh to escape her lips.
"Thank you for proving my point. I'm leaving. Whatever this is, it's done." She stated pointing between the two of them before she turned to walk away. She paused just as she placed her hand on the door handle. There were other things on her mind. Other questions. A silent tear she didn't realize had escaped rolled down her cheek, she inhaled deeply.
"I'm not sorry." He finally spoke. Earning him a half assed.
"I kinda figured that from the mome-" She cut off mid sentence as she was turned around and pinned against the door. Soft, warm lips collided with hers. The contact nearly had her melting to her feet.
stay with me pt 4
<azriel shadowsinger x OFC>
part one, part two, part three, part five
warnings: ANGST, graphic description injuries
✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°
Something was wrong. Azriel didn’t know what, but he could no longer feel Ophelia as strongly on the other side of the bond. Her presence was just a flicker of energy, like a spark that refused to light.
“We’re moving in. Now.” He quietly growled.
Mor, Cassian, and Nesta had all deliberately disobeyed Rhysands instructions to not enter the Autumn Court territory without his permission. They would all surely pay for it.
But at this moment, he didn’t care what Rhysands punishment would be. He could cut off Azriels wings, set his hands alight, and throw him into the Sidra and he would take it. As long as he got Ophelia back. He was beyond grateful that his friends were risking their own lives and Rhysands wrath to find her too.
His shadows cast the corridor in front of them into darkness, snuffing out the fae lights lining the walls. They moved silently, as a unit. Quickly and quietly taking out any guards that they came across. What was more blood on Azriels hands? As far as he was concerned they were all complicit in this crime.
Gaining access to the Forest Palace wasn’t easy. It had taken them entirely too long. They had to wait for changing of the guard and had to slaughter their way through just to get in. It was messy and harsh, but they did it all without raising alarm.
Azriel led them through twisting and turning hallways, going farther and farther down into the lower levels. He didn’t know where he was going, it was just a feeling. He could feel that tug at the bond growing tighter and further down they went.
None of them questioned him, and thank the Mother for that. He wasn’t sure how he would respond. They all were calm and quiet around him since departing from Velaris, as if a single word would set him off.
He supposed it would. After departing the River House, he had flown out into the forest and taken out several acres of trees with his siphons before collapsing. He had been trembling, barely containing the anguish and rage that was crawling under his skin. It was nightfall before Cassian found him, telling him that they were leaving to find her.
Suddenly, the feeling in his chest exploded into a frenzying warmth, spreading across his body. Azriel halted in front of a small, dingy cell, and his friends stopped at his heals.
“What is it?” Mor whispered.
The metallic scent of blood was so overpowering that it almost masked hers. Almost.
He would know that combination of scent anywhere. Jasmine, lavender, and chamomile. With just a hint of lemon. Before it had calmed his wildest nerves. Now, it ramped them up, dreading what he would find in there.
In two strides, he was at the door. He grasped the lock on the cell and the faint blue light of his siphons illuminated the space. He barely heard the metal hit the ground as he flung the door open and rushed in.
What he saw would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Ophelia was slumped against the wall, hands chained above her head. Small, precise cuts littered her mostly naked body. Deep burn scars around her neck, wrists and ankles. The only thing that covered her was a red see-through chemise. No. The chemise was white. It was stained red. With her blood.
And Azriels heart stopped beating at the sight of the dagger embedded to the hilt in Ophelia’s side.
“Cauldron-” Cassian gasped, coming to stand beside him.
“Help me.” His voice was tight, despair laced in every word. Azriels eyes stung with unshed tears. No, he couldn’t do that. Not here, not now.
If she didn’t make it-
Cassian braced Ophelia up, mindful of her wounds, as Azriel broke the chains around her wrists. He stooped down and took her small broken form from Cassians arms, careful of the dagger. A soft, broken whimper came from the bloody mass that was Ophelia. It shattered his heart even further.
But she was alive, she was still alive.
“We have to get her back to Velaris.” His voice was raw, full of the promise of death and bone deep despair.
“Winnowing could move the dagger around.” Cassian responded quietly, looking down at her.
“We could take her to the Winter Court-” Mor started.
“No.” Azriel snarled. “She needs to be home, not in some frozen waste land.”
“But the risk-”
“I know the fucking risk!” He was starting to panic now. It was rising to the surface, the pressure building and building against his too tight skin.
“Whatever the decision, it needs to be made now. We have company.” Nesta hissed from the front of the cell.
“Go to them. I’ll meet you back at the River House.”
His shadows swirled around them, Cassian disappeared from sight, his brothers eyes full of sadness and quiet rage. He knew he would make them pay for what they did.
In the cold emptiness, he brought Ophelia closer to him. Praying to the Mother that she would make this, she had to make this. If Azriel needed anything in his life to go right, it was now.
Azriel swore to the Mother and to the Cauldron that when she had recovered, he would tell her everything. About his messy emotions, the feeling of how unworthy he was to her, and that they were mates. He was hers.
But oh, the Mother was cruel.
His feet hit the solid ground just outside the River House, the world swimming back into focus. Panting, he looked down at Ophelia.
His mate.
She almost looked like she was sleeping, if it wasn’t for the agonizing pain he felt on the other side of the bond. It was so intense that he momentarily swayed before reality gripped him by the throat. The dagger was no longer there. It laid several feet away in the grass.
The panic he had been barely keeping at bay finally bubbled over.
Blood was pouring from the wound, fast. Too fast. Gasping, he went to his knees, laying her in the damp morning grass. His scarred hands pressed into her side attempting to staunch the bleed, but it was no use. Blood seeped past his fingers, coating his hands.
Rhys. Rhys I need you.
“Phia? Phia, I need you to open your eyes.” He whispered.
“It hurts.” She whimpered. The pain he heard from her snapped something deep and vital in his head.
“I know, I know sweetheart.” Azriels cheeks were wet with the tears he had been holding back for weeks. No- years.
“Azriel?” Her eyes fluttered open, squinting up at him. “You’re here.” She sounded so relieved, he wondered if she thought this was a dream.
“Yes, Phia. I’m here with you. Now stay with me, help is coming,” He sobbed.
Rhysand!
She muttered incoherently, and it wasn’t til later til Azriel would realize what she was saying.
Stay with me.
The familiar scent of Cassian, Mor, and Nesta invaded his senses, momentarily taking over the smell of blood. He heard one of them cry out, felt their grief slam into him. But he couldn’t look away.
He whispered small encouragements to her, begging and pleading with Rhys in his head to fucking hurry.
Almost there.
“He’s almost here Phia. Just hang on.” His eyes swept down her body, examining the wound. It was ghastly, deep and jagged with infection just starting to set in. Mother, how long had that been in there?
He looked back up to her face and his gut twisted. Her eyes were shut, her lips unmoving. “Hey, hey! Do not shut your eyes. Please,” A painful sobbed ripped from the depths of Azriels chest. “Please open your eyes!”
“So tired.” She whispered, struggling to open her eye lids. “Az, I’m so tired.”
Hands suddenly replaced where Azriels were. Someone was talking, shouting at the others but he wasn’t sure who it was, and he didn’t care. Maybe it was Rhysand, or was it Feyre?
Moving carefully, he cradled her head in his lap. The back of her scalp was sticky with blood, the entire ground around them was drenched in it.
“Stay. Stay here with me.” He whispered to her, smoothing her hair away from her sweaty and sallow forehead.
“You’re my mate.” Azriel choked out in broken sobs. “Ophelia you’re my mate.”
She inhaled to speak, but her chest stilled
The bond went silent.
And Azriel screamed.