Fanfic and what if's, about acotar and tog!

Period with Azriel

Like clockwork, hell descended upon you. Twice a year and always on time, the few days you feared the most came around yet again; a time of constant sword stabbing in your core, a period of the year you hated. Your cycle had come around.

Az had gone on a mission to the human lands a few days ago. The High Lord had sent his spymaster to gather information about the state of the human queens, about whether they were working on a plan to retaliate or whether the situation was still calm. They had been in seclusion in their castles since the last time one of them had gone out, only to never return. They hid behind their high rocky walls, each tucked away in their castle, in different regions of the territory. There was not much activity to report, spies had spread out around and had not reported anything unusual. Occasionally, Az would cross to personally check everything out.

You still remember that terrible day, it was months ago, but it still haunted you. The day Azriel brought Nesta and Cassian back from the mountain; blood-soaked clothes covered both their bodies. The day one of the queens had been dealt with. Their faces were ashen with the same fear that everyone in that room possessed.

...

You still remember how your mate looked as he paced the room, alternating between being by Rhysand and Feyre's side and coming to your side to grasp your waist and hold on to you. He would go hold Feyre's hand, having difficulty making eye contact with either one of them, and give his friends updates on the situation. He would kiss his High Lady's forehead and clasp Rhys's back before rushing back to your side, his back hitting the wall. Your hand would clutch his, your thumb rubbing circles across his knuckles as you soothed him. He would eventually tame the few tears making their way to the surface and then Az would turn towards you. His head would dip in your neck and fill his lungs with your smell. His hair was ruffled by the countless times he had swiped his hand through it, sometimes tugging at the ends. Az had never shown this kind of sensitivity and vulnerability in front of others, only in front of you, but he was losing his brother and Feyre and the emotions were surging out of him.

His face was lined with a pained expression, his shadows were wild around the room. Some of them flew out and came back, bringing back to their master loads of information, his eyebrows were scrunched in a serious expression as he sorted through it all, debating if it was worth his while or not, but the other lot of the shadows were tightly wrapped around your legs and ankles. They were latched on to your skin and were not letting go, their warmth soothed you and calmed your rising anxiousness.

Cassian's location was still unknown, and no news of the rite had come, it was still in motion. Everyone in the room was thinking the worse, and so were you. Nesta was still out there, with Emerie, and Gwyn. For all you know they were probably dead, but you could not think such things now. If you started spiralling, Az would sense it and it would send him overboard, you did not want to make him stress over another thing. So far, you could handle yourself.

Rhysand had told you he would prefer his family not to see both drift away, but he still wanted to say goodbye, to tell them a few last words. Feyre might be the love of his life, but he cared for his family just as much.

No one could leave them right now; they needed all your support.

The bond was filled with emotions, and it overwhelmed you but seemed to calm your mate as you greeted them all in, opening yourself to him. At that moment he did not seem to notice he was pitching everything toward you, but at the end of the day when you held each other in bed after the roller coaster of emotions, he thanked you for not backing away. He had been so grateful for your presence during those awful hours.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and your feet refused to shift, you needed air, but you could not leave, they needed you. On your other side, Morrigan was grasping your other hand, her nails digging into it.