#acotar bot

—

It had been frustrating the Inner Circle for years.

You and Azriel were best friends. Nobody knew one of you better than the other, nobody was as close to one of you as the other, and nobody cared about one of you as much as the other did. The Inner Circle was your family, no doubt about that, but you were each other’s home. There was no questioning it. If everyone in the world got a person that was theirs, you were each others.

So why hadn’t the mating bond snapped?

It was a question constantly on the minds of your friends, and it plagued the minds of you and Azriel every time you had a bit too much time to think about it. And when there was a war brewing, and battles on the horizon that meant neither of you were promised tomorrow? It was practically the only thing on your minds.

Eventually, the day you both were dreading had come.

By midday, you were back to back, fighting with everything you had. By evening, you somehow had gotten seperated and were on opposite ends of the field, exhausting and bloody. Every second you were out of each other’s sight was a second too long, a moment too vulnerable. Yet, there was nothing you could do but keep fighting — not just for yourselves, but each other.

When the sun set, and your side finally had a change in the tide in your favor, you let yourself breathe for the first time in what seemed like hours.

But the breath was sucked right out of you when you watched a streak of blue light suddenly fall from the sky. Azriel. His gaze met yours from across the field, sheer fear in his eyes. You nearly collapsed with terror as you watched him fall, already in a full sprint screaming his name before he even hit the ground. Please be alive, please be alive please be alive. It was all you could think as you ran, not caring about how you’d exposed yourself to open attacks in your panic. You’d have rather been struck down right then and there than have to witness your best friend die in front of you. You’d rather be dead. Thinking about a world without him felt like death.

But then you were struck with a feeling so strong rippling through your entire body, and you’d never felt more alive.

It would have stopped you in your tracks and knocked you on your ass had your mind not be locked onto one thing — reaching him. When you finally did, he’d managed to get to his feet. One look from him confirmed that he’d felt the same thing, his eyes glassy and his lip trembling.

“Is it…” he’d finally forced himself to murmur, his body coiled tight. “Are you…?”

All it took was one hesitant pull from you, the bond yanking like a thread wrapped around your ribs, and you were sinking to the ground in shock, knees smashing into the dirt.

Azriel was quick to follow, desperately reaching for you like he’d never needed anyone or anything more.

—

you knew when you woke up that it wasn’t going to be a good day.

azriel was gone, already working, his side of the bed cold. it felt like a nasty and viscous storm cloud was hung over your head, just waiting to pour down on you. your chest was tight, your stomach in knots. it was as if every step you took required all of your energy. there was this inexplicable weight on your shoulders, and as you drudged through the day, it only got heavier. by the day’s end, you were ready to collapse.

when you finally made it back to your room, azriel was waiting for you, a knowing look on his face.

“i could feel you,” he murmured, turning down the sheets. “what is it, love?”

you’d held it together the whole day. you would’ve even been proud of yourself, if not for the way your lip started quivering, your eyes immediately starting to water.

damn it, you thought. so close.

“oh, baby,” he softly chuckled, holding his arms out for you. “come here.”

you were across the room with your face buried in his chest before he could get another word out. your grip on him was desperate, clutching the fabric of his shirt. azriel rested his cheek on top of your head, arms hooked around you. he was silent as he let you decide what you needed, content to hold you.

“closer, please,” you finally requested.

your defeated tone tugged at his heart. he only nodded, tugging you flush against him. he let his wings drape around you both, encasing you in warmth and dimming the harsh light coming in through the windows. you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your face still smooshed in his chest.

“bringing out the big guns, huh?”

azriel grinned, warmth flooding his cheeks as you teased him. “it felt appropriate.”

you hummed in response, your grip still tight around his waist. he always made the weight lighter, enough that you could come up for air again. he’s what you needed. this is what you needed.

Cassian was tough — he had to be, with the life he was given.

He was all scrapes and bruises, scars and marred skin. Dumped in Windhaven at just five years old, he learned all too quickly about survival of the fittest. As the Night Court’s General, he’d earned every bit of the title. He’d fought in wars, led armies, slaughtered enemies. His name struck fear in the hearts of many. He had every right to be a tough bastard…and most days, he was.

But with you? His pretty girl? Not a chance.

Neither of you had quite acknowledged the invisible string that tethered you together, the lifeline that linked your hearts and minds. It was too fragile to mess with. With the war having just ended, and Prythian still healing, it just didn’t feel like the right time to explore it.

But just because you hadn’t directly addressed it didn’t mean you both weren’t a pair of lovesick fools, fooling no one but yourselves. No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft. Everyone could see the annoyingly endearing adoration you had for each other. It was impossible not to.

Cassian found you one day out in the gardens with Elain, helping her plant seeds. You’d started joining her when she ventured out for sunlight, finding peace in the mundanity of it all. The world was constantly changing and warping around you, and there was hardly anything you could do about it. But this? The garden? This, you could control. This, you could heal.

“There she is,” he smiled, offering you a hand to help you out of the dirt. “Been looking for you.”

“Oh?” You murmured, dusting your hands off on the back of your pants. You couldn’t help but crack a smile as he shooed your hands away, replacing them with his own to wipe the dirt off you. Such a mother hen. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his training leathers, but here he was, doting on you.

You took a second to look him over, realizing how tense he was. He had a smile on that didn’t quite meet his eyes. His wings were tucked in tight behind him, his hands clenched into fists. His knuckles were bruised, freshly split and bleeding. He’d been training — and very hard, by the looks of it. A habit he’d developed when being idle became too much to handle. His hands looked like this more often than not these days.

You said nothing, slipping your hand into his. You always said nothing, and he was eternally grateful for it. He didn’t need any fancy speech or grand gesture to show him how much you cared. He just needed his. A few minutes a day with you in whatever way you’d let him, with whatever self inflicted pain healed by nightfall.