#cazriel fluff

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“Come here, babygirl, snuggle up,” Cassian said after he sank into the couch, extending his arms for you to curl into.

“I don’t need to snuggle this time, Cass, I swear,” you insisted as you sat next to him, but not yet within the shelter of his arms. “I’m going to make it through this one with no problems.” Azriel’s low chuckle from next to the TV had your eyes flicking to him, scrunching at the insinuation the noise made. “What, you don’t think I can?”

“I believe you can princess, you just won’t want to once you’re scared,” he said as he came to the couch, remotes in hand. Az sank down next to you, placing his arm right next to yours, and started the movie. Train to Busan was the pick for tonight, one that you had actually voted for.

You’d heard great things about it, namely how it was one of the best and scariest zombie movies. Naturally, you were determined to not rely on your partners for comfort during it, to prove that you don’t need to, you just like having them next to you to make the experience less scary.

It didn’t take long for you to regret your choice, each second of the movie adding to the tension in your body.

One scare got you badly enough that you started crying, your arms wrapped tightly around your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. Azriel wrapped an arm around you, tilting his torso a bit to provide more safety. His other hand came to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently every now and then.

You saw Cassian turn to look at you ten times within a minute before you sighed and scooted your hips into his, a hand tugging Az along with you.

You could practically feel Cass’s satisfaction as he also wrapped an arm around you, his free hand locking with one of yours.

Even with the two of them pulled in tightly to you, the movie had you tense as hell and jumping with each scare, your partners taking turns pressing soft kisses to your head after particularly bad ones.

By the end of it, you were feeling wound up and scared to go to bed. You sat on the couch, staring at the now dark screen.

“Are you okay, babygirl?” Cassian whispered in your ear as he played with your fingers. “It was a pretty scary movie, hm?”

Your lips slid into a pout. “I wanted to prove I didn’t need you to get through it…” You whispered.

“We know,” Azriel murmured. “And you would’ve watched it alone and gotten through it if we weren’t here, but…”

“We are here, princess. And we actually prefer when you snuggle into us for safety, it gives us that manly feeling,” Cassian finished, puffing out his chest. “Right Az?”

“Most definitely, baby,” Azriel said, punctuating the statement with a kiss to your cheek.

You bit your lip for a moment. “Okay. If you mean it, then I guess I can keep snuggling up whenever we watch something scary.”

A squeeze to your thigh and hand made you feel reassured in your choice.

“Now that that’s settled… Do you want to have some hot chocolate before we snuggle in bed?” Cassian asked, already standing up and gently rearranging you so you were laying pressed into Azriel’s side, causing a case of contagious giggles through the three of you.

“That sounds perfect Cassie!”

“Don’t put too much whipped cream, Cass, we don’t want her to be up all night,” Azriel warned gently as his arms scooped you further into him.

“Sure, Az, I won’t put too much on,” Cassian said. You and Az exchanged a glance before laughing at Cassian and his ever-present need for defiance.

But you weren’t feeling scared anymore, and that’s what mattered as you snuggled into Azriel’s chest and strong arms, listening to Cassian make your drinks.

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

Cassian revelled in the warmth of the guards blood on his hands.

Never before had he considered the sensation a pleasant one - he was always focused on the next kill, defeating the enemies that followed, winning the war. But killing his way through Beron’s guards to find you? It released some sort of primal desire, as if it pleased the Gods. 

He was snarling as he plowed his way through, unnatural strength driving his bare fist straight through chests, hearts ripped from their cavities. 

He could hear Azriel’s growls amongst the clang of swords meeting, of armour being punctured and thuds of bodies dropping, one by one. Azriel’s urges matched his own, melding together, stronger as one entity instead of two. The males weren’t High Lords, but this was their beast form. They would slaughter their way to you, pile the bodies as high as any beast to get to their mate.

It was unfair really, for Beron to have convinced his guards they stood a chance, even without knowing of the innate itch to kill irked by the bond. After a short fight, Cassian and Azriel - now dripping with sweat and blood - cornered the last of the guards, prowling with lethal rage. 

“P-please, it was B-Beron, he ordered us to-"

If the male hadn't died from the blow as his head hit stone, Cassian was sure to choke the last of his breaths with a lethal grip at his neck, holding him up against the wall as the rest of his body slagged with lifeless form.

Bursting through another door, Cassian and Azriel flew down the winding staircase at a godly speed. No longer were your panicked calls concealed under layers of ground and iron – your shrill cries suddenly so loud they pierced your mate’s minds, hands flying to their ears in hopes to shield them. 

You were here, they had found you.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a long corridor of cells beheld them, the bond pulling them towards a cell they could not yet see. 

Wait! Your voice rang in their ears, laced with distress that fuelled their wild hearts. Wait! If he knows you are hear, he’ll kill me. Don’t-

Beyond words, Azriel sent a wave of reassurance down the bond, as he concealed himself and Cassian in shadows, sending some sprawling on the ground, racing ahead to find you with lethal stealth.

Silently, they moved further into the dungeon, stopping briefly to observe a weeping women in her own cell, bright auburn hair cast down her back as she wept into her arms. Serafina seemed unharmed for the most part, and Cassian sent a mental image to Rhys, ensuring Hellion his mate was here and alive. 

As Cassian and Azriel reached the end of the winding row of cells, they halted at the sight before them. A frightening cold seized their muscles, and hands raised to shield their eyes at the blinding silver light flickering from your cell. 

There you were, bound to a slab, sword pierced at your heart.

Veins pulsed against muscles, their fists shaking with adrenaline as they stalked closer for the kill. Beron was speaking, but neither of them could hear past the roar in their ears.

Before they could charge to tear down those iron gates and free you, Beron’s hands were at the hilt of the sword, and then he was pushing, severing the bond yet again. 

————

You know they were here – from the way your heart swelled and the bond ignited, a frayed rope pulling tight after being left slack for so long. But it was an instinct you could not let on with Beron so close – your only hope was that they heard you warning. 

Beron had grown dangerously impatient, not knowing the bond would fight back.

“This is taking too long, Y/N,” he roared, pacing as he ran shaking hands down his face, sweat sliding down his neck. “You will give me what I want!”

“F-fuck you,” you managed to cough out, chest heaving with short breaths as you tried not to deepen your wound with the sword at your chest. 

Beron snarled as he stepped towards you. “Give up Y/N. Give in.”

You didn't have a chance to bark a warning to your mates as Beron forced the rapier further into your heart. 

————

Azriel and Cassian fell to the ground – that slicing, searing pain sending them slack, unable to breath as they grabbed at their chests. 

Blood and spit passed through clenched teeth as it took all they had not to make any noise, to join you in the one freedom of screaming in pain. But they had to stay silent, to stay hidden. For you, they would embrace agony. 

————

It was an odd clarity, to smell your mates in that moment. 

They were closer now, only a few paces from your cell. You had to endure this next insertion, to give them a fighting chance. So you clenched your teeth, your cry of pain turning to a furious growl as you called for your heart to resist and fight and survive. 

Beron was thrown back at a sudden wave of magic pushed from your chest, the bond forcing the weapon clean from your heart entirely. It almost killed you, that pain, and you heaved against your restraints as Beron’s back smashed into the iron gates of your cell, weapon clanking to the ground. 

Beron pulled blood-stained fingers from the back of his head, eyes raising to you in murderous rage. “You bitch! How dare-"

Beron’s words were clipped, his eyes suddenly turning wide. He tried again – to speak, to breath, chocking against an invisible threat. Vision reeling as you danced with death, you had missed the shadow that had seeped past the gates, snaking through Beron’s nose and cutting off his air supply. 

Scarred hands snatched through the gates then, one around Beron’s neck, the other around his abdomen, forcing his against the cell door as he choked. 

Your cry of relief was a stangled, raspy thing. Cassian - twined in red, pulsing magic - ripped open the door to your cell, the warmth of his hands a sensation you would never forget. 

“Cass-" you strained, tears pouring as you cried weakly. 

“My girl, my girl,” he cooed as he caressed your head, panicked by the blood spilling from your chest as trembling hands moved to press at your wound. 

With Cassian’s large form in front, you only saw the outskirts of a blinding flash of silver that threw him from you, crashing him into the wall with a groan. 

Beron stood before you, eyes glowing with other-worldly light, laps of silver death consuming him. 

In an instant winnow, Azriel was beside Beron, Truthteller swishing fiercely, aimed directly for his neck.

Another pulse of silver, and Azriel was thrown against the opposite wall.

Beron was panting, fingers twitching and silver coursed at his frame. He had given in entirely, his sanity, his very soul lost to that power. He had become death itself. 

As if like called to like, the sword flew from the ground to find home in his hand. 

Beron’s growl was a deep, demonic thing. “I suppose I’ll kill all three of you now.” 

Azriel still lay on the ground, wings sprawled from his back, and Beron raised that awful sword, knowing exactly where to strike. 

It was a honing, almost peaceful moment to know you would do anything to stop from Beron harming your mate’s wings. It was as if the Mother spoke to you directly, welcoming you to her pool of magic, letting you drink generously as she raised the cup to your lips. 

You took what you needed, using her strength, your eyes alight with brilliant yellow. Your magic, untrained and undefined, blasted through the entire cell, igniting the room with a brilliant zap. 

All three males yelped with pain, metal surfaces now alive as your current zapped and moved between then. 

Your magic, powerful and brilliant, caused Beron to jolt still. He turned with an eery slowness - and instead stalked towards you, marking his next kill and leaving Azriel weak on the ground. 

Good, this was good. The innate selflessness to ensure Azriel's safety was instinct, and you would die with content knowing you had done all in your power. In these final moments, as death prowled closer, you understood you would die for your mates, just as they would for you.

But there was more hope to be found in that cell than you realised – because your magic thrummed with life, a gift from the Mother herself. And as your surroundings continued to zap and dance with your power – Beron was ignorant to how it weakened him, raising slow, shaky arms to land the sword at your neck. 

Azriel and Cassian were on Beron before he could have hoped to make the blow. There was a flurry of red and blue, fists flying and a series of growls, the world slipping further away as your vision blurred from blood loss. 

You weren't sure if you had dreamt it, but you could have sworn the entire bracket of iron bars was ripped from the hinges of your cell, revealing Rhys and Feyre.

Flashes of star-speckled black, and then warm hands were pushing at your chest. 

“Rhys!” Feyre called, her hand pressing harder, pushing a silent yelp from you. “Rhys, my magic isn't strong enough to stop the bleeding!”

Your head was lolling, your mind screaming at you to hold on just a little bit longer. And then there were two sets of hands, violet and grey eyes panicked as they poured healing magic into you, flooding you with warmth.

From the other side of your cell, Beron was weakening in his fight, his magic at odds with Azriel and Cassian’s. In a swift manoeuvre, Azriel grappled the male, forcing his hands behind his back. Cassian was in front of him then, shoving him to his knees, readying to snap his neck with his bare hands. 

Both of them panted, bearing the pain of your magic that flooded the room, delighting in what every instinct begged for them to do. 

“Wait!”

The males froze, turning to you. 

“Wait, don’t kill him,” you rasped. 

They stopped. 

“My love?” Azriel all but growled. 

“He killed Lucien,” your words were just above a whisper, and you felt Feyre’s hands drop from you. “He killed Lucien, as has kept the Lady of Autumn prisoner. They-they deserve a trial. They deserve to see him pay for all of his crimes.”

“What did you say?” Feyre’s voice was small, her arms slackened at her sides. You could offer no comfort in your state, blinking with a furious attempt to stay awake.

Azriel and Cassian exchanged a look, before nodding to you. Cassian drew his fist back, before landing a blow to Beron’s face, with only enough strength to render him unconscious. 

Shackles were ripped from you, and then hands - their hands - were everywhere, their lips too. Holding you, kissing you, rocking you as you wept at their touch. You were beyond grief and sadness in that moment – cries of relief went muffled as Azriel and Cassian held you up as you clung at them and just sobbed. The bond pulsed at the proximity, and you used the little strength you had to hold them both tighter, imprinting their scents to memory. You relished in the safety of their embrace as they cried with you, kissing you, checking you for more injuries as you healed slowly, swearing they would never let you go and that they were so, so sorry. 

The moments that followed were a blur. 

Illyrian soldiers flooded the dungeons, dragging Beron’s body with careful handling of the sword. Feyre’s cries were a sorrow sound, Rhys’s arms around her as she wept at the loss of her friend. You hated to have bared the news of Lucien's sacrifice, and to have to inflict the same pain on Tamlin. 

Oh gods, Tamlin.

“T-Tam-?” you gasped between sobs. 

Rhysand’s eyes were heavy, but fond as he smiled brokenly. “He was still fighting alongside the Illyrians when we entered. But he is safe.”

Your heart swelled at the bravery of your friend, and you wouldn't let yourself think about the damn battle that had erupted above your head.

Your hands shook then, knees buckling as the weight of the events caught up with you. A scarred hand rubbed at your back.

“You’re safe, my love, rest now.”

“Serafina–"

“Is with Helion. Everyone is safe my girl. You can let go now,” Cassian added, cupping your face.

It was the sweetest of lullabies you had ever heard, and now finally at peace, you gave into the exhaustion, falling into a safe slumber in the arms of your mates.

————

You were not alone when you woke.

Acutely aware of the soft snores of Cassian and Azriel, their deep breathing a song of its own as you came to in what felt like days. 

Cassian’s head was in your lap, face down as locks of chestnut hair mopped outwards, your hand held limply in his. 

Azriel slept upright, slumped against the postings of your bed, scarred hand upturned where your other hand lay in his, shadows gently caressing your side. 

A snort of laughter escaped you. 

It was a raspy, broken sound with no voice beneath it, but the movements of your chuckle rocked the bed gently as you indulged in the comical sight of your mates that had fallen asleep in such a way.

You wondered if their necks hurt as much as you hurt all over. 

Cassian's hand tightened around yours on instinct as he stirred.

A scarred hand touched your jaw, gently coaching your eyes to find Azriel beaming down at you with a soft smile, dark lashes still blinking from sleep. “You’re awake.”

Cassian squeezed your hand, his head turned to face you from where he still lay in your lap. “Hello, love.”

Your lip quivered, and then you laughed again, overcome with an intense amount of gratitude, hopefulness and glee. With a hoarse voice you were able to speak through your tear stained smile.

“My mates.”

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Part 9>>>