#✲ FEYRE ARCHERON [ dynamic ] AZRIEL

[romanticatheartt]

acotar ships and their dynamics

Feysand:

Nessian:

Gwynriel:

Elucien:

[bloodofthefates]

x. background & interactions

Nuala - name meaning “fair shoulder” or “fair-shouldered one” Cerridwen - name meaning “fair” or “blessed poetry”; mythological enchantress & goddess of the Underworld Allegiance: Velaris & The Night Court - Though Nuala & Cerridewen attend Feyre and later Elain as handmaidens or attendants, this is often a cover job title that is used to explain their accompaniment to the Inner Circle & High Lord & High Lady. Though their friendship and allegiance to both Archeron sisters keep them in these services when not directly working under their actual title as spies for Azriel or Rhys, they do ultimately serve and answer to them in all capacities. Ultimately, I think they serve Azriel first and foremost (take that as good or bad?) but abide by his loyalty to Rhys and subsequently align themselves with the High Lord. - Nesta and the power they sense from her feels foreign and not quite right, making both of the twins very uncomfortable around her and in her presence. They prefer to maintain their distance from her unless directly ordered to do so otherwise as she feels like unstable and untapped magic they are incredibly perceptive to. Due to their protectiveness of both Feyre and Elain especially, this compounds how they feel about the eldest Archeron and often the treatment of them they’ve witnessed (knowingly or unknowingly).

[bloodofthefates]

@siphonedshadow \\ @darkslautr

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 1

Rare

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Word count: ~5.6k Warning: None [minimal editing/proofreading/formatting]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. I have newfound respect for writers who have mastered group dynamics in their writing.

‘Two weeks,’ Mor whispered, trudging forward with her eyes set ahead in a daze. Her heels hit the cobbled path with soft clicks. ‘They’re closed for two weeks. What am I going to do?’

Feyre looped her arm through hers and guided her away from the closed doors of Rita’s. No one took the disappointment as hard as Mor. Still, they each expressed varying degrees of frustration with their grunts and groans. 

Cassian cursed aloud for it was his idea to enjoy a night like good old times . And he enjoyed a night like good old times every two months. However that night, the rest of the Inner Circle agreed to celebrate the few peaceful months they'd had in a while.

Except for one.

Azriel was grateful for his family’s reunion and their safety. Only he wanted to celebrate it in the quiet of their home. His family didn’t spare him the courtesy of protesting though. Knowing him well, they sent the middle Archeron sister to plead their case. One look at her hesitant eyes and he couldn’t deny the soft-hearted woman. He had one regret for the night—to have not flown off when he sensed Elaine’s presence on the other side of his door. 

When Rita disclosed their misfortune, Nesta pinned him with an accusatory glare as if his ill will had manifested into the burning down of their beloved retreat. She would have calmed if Azriel had stood there with his usual blank stare. Instead, he lifted a brow as a smirk tugged at his lips.

‘At least pretend not to enjoy this so much, you ass,’ grumbled Cass without even looking at his brother. 

‘Two weeks!’ Mor shrieked, throwing her arms in the air as she reeled out of the initial shock. Her blonde hair swayed behind her with every shake of her head. ‘How could she do this to me?’ 

Rhys walked on her other side. Besides Azriel, he was the only one unbothered by the ruin of their plans and his taunting tone was the only sign of his apathy for his cousin’s plight. ‘I’m sure the fire in her kitchen had barely anything to do with punishing you.’ 

Elaine’s voice perked up as Mor opened her mouth again. ‘We could go somewhere else,’ she inched away with each word as if she expected another outburst. ‘It’s not too late.’

And that’s how Azriel came to hate the woman for the night. 

He wasn’t cruel. He loved his family, and he agreed they deserved a break, but it wasn’t something he would sacrifice his peace for. He was ready with his own proposition—go back home, get drunk on faerie wine, and maybe some mirthroot if they resisted too much. His family would have their merriment, and he’d have his serenity.

As they stumbled and meandered through the streets, stopping at one place and the next, vetting out each other’s suggestions, Azriel found himself enjoying the moment—listening to his family’s usual banter, the comfort of familiarity built over centuries, and fussing over triviality instead of wars and courts. If his family chose to spend the entire night on the streets, he would gladly trade his peace for that.

But then, his family arrived at their destination. The last on their list. Another bar. Or at least what it said on the polished plaque that hung above the rusty door frame.

‘This is it?’ Cass spoke first, his words echoing the thought they all had in their minds.

Beyond the worn-out door held in place by a brick wedged between it and the doorframe was a harshly lit long room. Even the open door and cool breeze of the summer night failed to mask the stench of stuffiness from the dingy hole in the wall. Light flickered warning anyone dared contemplate entering the horrid place. Too narrow to hold waiting tables, there stood a sole desk opposite the entrance. Two shelves nailed behind it sloped, the bottles stacked atop them slowly making their way to the edge. Such a place at the centre of Velaris was nothing more than a swamp surrounded by beauty and life.

A woman rotten with age sat behind the table. Her hands jittered with each click of the needles held between her sharp, black claws. Her crooked nose curving past her thin lips and her non-existent ears were the only indications of her faerie blood other than her savage nails. Azriel couldn’t remember the last time he saw a creature that looked so old and fragile, yet with malice in her being, a kind of cruelty that lurked in one’s bones. 

Despite what he witnessed, none of it deterred him that night. His body shook with silent laughter. All that wasted trip, endless stops to pick at the tiniest flaws only for his family to end up there . 

Mother loved him. The complete disbelief on their faces was worth everything Azriel suffered since he opened his door to Elaine that night. Even his shadows seemed to enjoy the irony of their situation, skittering around his shoulders.

Mor turned to him sharply, her eyes alight with fire. ‘As long as there’s wine, this will do,’ she gritted her teeth. 

Pushing his friend, whose only purpose in life was proving a point, was the last thing Azriel wanted to do. Yet it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass. How far would his family go? What would it take to break them? Would they give in and chuck down whatever wretched brew the suspicious creature offered? He merely bowed his head and waved at the door.

Mor swallowed her squeak of disgust as she crossed the threshold. Her eyes ran over the assortment of bottles on the shelves—three filled to the brim with pale green liquid, two half-filled with something that looked awfully like rotten blood, of what Azriel didn’t care to find out. 

‘Do you suppose,’ she brought her eyes back to the woman, ‘you have any wine?’

The needles went silent for a beat, ‘Take your pick,’ and resumed. Not once did the creature glance at them as she jerked her chin to the shelf above her head.

With the seven of them now inside, the air turned hot and suffocating. Nesta pushed past to the front, standing next to Mor. ‘This is Pharus, isn’t it? The bar?’

Finally, the faerie looked up. Her eyes roved over their faces, their bodies, the detailing of threads on their clothes finer than the ones she held in her hands. 

‘Of course,’ she snarled, ‘why else would you be here?’ Her lazy eyes rolled creepily in their sockets to stop at the door beside the shelf. ‘Over there,’ she said and went back to her hideous patchwork of browns and blues and pinks.

In the silence, a steady thrum of beats crept along the floor. A soft murmur lured them to trust the creature’s words and enter the unknown awaiting them behind the burnished wood, a portal out of the creature’s lair.

Mor stepped up to the door, her eyes on the glass doorknob—hypnotised, curious, so bright. As her fingers brushed against it, the faerie cleared her throat. 

‘There’s a price for it,’ she added with a sly smile on her lips, a little thing that didn’t belong in her sagging face.

Azriel fished into his pockets while his family stared between the door and its guardian. His curiosity ebbed and grew to a point of no return. He had to find whatever called to him, whatever called to them . He dropped a gold on the table. It clattered on the wood, its ring echoing for a breath too long. 

The faerie stared at it and then at him, and then his family, studying each of their faces. Her claws left scratches on the wood as she grasped the coin in her palm. She sniffed it once and her eyes widened.

The door didn’t make a sound under Mor’s hand. One by one they entered, and Azriel let the door close behind him. Their heels clicked on the polished wooden floor that gleamed under golden lights.

Soothing warmth enveloped them even on the summer night in a comforting embrace. Fragrance of spices cut through the musk of the wooden furniture. Golden orbs hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow across the space enough to enable their fae sight, but none too harsh like Rita’s. Every plush leather chair, strategically arranged table, and carefully curated decorations contributed to the elegance of the room. 

A band sat on a raised podium at the far end, playing music that complimented their ambience. In the middle stood the majestic bar, a stretch of counter that ran along almost the entire length of the room. Bottles filled with various shades of liquor sat on the shelves behind—each of them, artistically planned and placed. Lights reflected off decanters and glasses set on trays adding a bit of colour to the brown and gold theme of the room.  

Faerie, high and lesser, took the seats without sparing each other a glance of discrimination. There was no stench of tension in the air, only a fragile calmness. Two servers shifted around the room speaking softly with polite smiles on their lips. A female tended to the bar, her hands worked with mesmerising precision. Despite the overflowing liquor, there wasn’t a loud cry, laughter, or chatter. 

Luxury and safety—the words came to Azriel’s mind. His shadows shaded his shoulders, falling quiet as they studied their new territory.

One of the servers led them to the only table large enough to fit them and their wings—close to the band. A bench ran along the wall on one side, and chairs occupied the other. 

Once they settled, he spoke with a rehearsed tone, ‘I’m guessing you’re new here.’ The hitch in his breath told them he knew exactly who they were, and yet his smile remained. ‘We have two rules. One, we ensure the night’s peaceful as much as possible. So, we don’t appreciate misconduct of any kind, and I’d advise you to stay out of trouble. Two, if our barkeep cuts you off for whatever reason, you leave.’ 

The server breathed through his teeth. His shoulders relaxed as though the most exhausting part of his job was done, and his smile turned more genuine. ‘Other than that, you do whatever you want. What would you like to drink?’

‘I’ll have faerie wine,’ Mor waited for no one, ‘Any wine. Don’t care how many.’ Her thigh pushed against Azriel’s as she shifted to her comfort on the velvet bench, her warmth seeping past his leathers. A swift nod from everyone else had the server scrambling back to the bar.

Nesta inspected the ones at the neighbouring tables. ‘What kind of moron expects drunks to follow rules?’

‘The one who doesn’t want to be held responsible for whatever happens when they are broken.’ Nesta’s eyes snapped to Azriel’s, and he merely shrugged. 

Elaine looked between their faces, expecting the inevitable discussion. But the Inner Circle indulged in spying on their night’s getaway. ‘Are we really ignoring what we saw outside?’

‘Oh,’ the server peered down at them as he set a tray with two wine bottles and glasses with a grace unexpected of his thick, manly fingers. ‘That hag is harmless. She just wastes her day knitting. If she bothered you, it’s because you’re new. Easy prey, you know? The regulars are used to her by now.’

Feyre reached for the glass offered to her. ‘Who is she?’

The server didn’t care to meet their eyes, but his words were eager. ‘She came with the building. This used to be her home. The old owner, her son, wanted to sell this bar. He found a better place for his family. But she didn’t want to move. Night and day they fought so much that people were afraid to even walk the street. Anyway, the son couldn’t resist our offer and sold it, and she—,’ he clicked his tongue, ‘she refused to leave with him. And Ayla didn’t want to leave her homeless.’

Azriel didn’t particularly enjoy the conversation as much as his family did. It mattered very little to the server, whose words tumbled out in a single breath. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time he was telling the story to his customers. He would make a terrible spy, Azriel thought. Maybe a decent source.

'Ayla?’

'She owns the place now. She gave the hag that hall. That’s where she and her husband lived before her son built a bar here.’ He sighed. His eyes swept over the rest of the room once he placed a filled glass in front of each of them. ‘It’s not good for business with a front like that. She scares everyone away. But Ayla insisted, and we renovated around it. Most customers don’t set foot inside after the first time. Some take pity and give her a few coppers. Not that she needs them though. Ayla takes care of all her needs.’

Another heavy breath, and he turned to them with a wide smile, with a server’s politeness. ‘Anyway, enjoy!’ He turned to leave. Then he paused, ‘You didn’t give her anything, did you?’

Every pair of eyes at the table fixated on Azriel. He blinked, ‘A gold.’

‘You better stay away from her the next time.’ The server walked away laughing.

In his long life, and also as a spy, Azriel had met enough faeries ranging from the vilest to the kindest. Nothing fazed him anymore. Though it would have made quite a story on any other day, his focus remained on his family. He would rather figure out a way to coax his friends to leave early than uncover more about a hag and her benefactor. After a long night of searching for a bar which offered wine sweeter than Rita’s, he knew it to be almost impossible.

At her sister’s request, Feyre led Elaine closer to the band, both nursing their drinks in their hands. Loose chairs littered the open space in front of the dais, where they took a seat among other patrons. The musicians nodded at them with a smile. 

Cass slammed his glass on the table. ‘I don’t like this place,’ he grumbled, looking at the well-behaved mob, ‘Where’s the fun here? This is not how a bar is supposed to be.’

‘Why? Is this place too classy for a brute like you?’ Nesta smirked, sipping her drink as she surveyed the place. With her usual elegance and simple gown, she fitted in better than the rest of them.

Years of sneaking and spying had ingrained the instincts in Azriel’s very bones, impossible to separate who he was and what he did for his family, for his court. His hazel eyes didn’t miss a thing. His shadows stayed close and whispered in his ears. Careful, calculating. Between the bar and the band stood two doors—one the servers often drifted in and out of with trays in their hands, a kitchen; and the other too pristine to be a back door or entrance to a storage room. An office, maybe. No one entered or exited it since his family took their seats across it. 

His brother was wrong. The patrons enjoyed their time, but not the way people did in Rita’s. Like his family, they bundled together and shared a drink and a laugh with their loved ones. Their glazed eyes and flushed faces proved they indulged in the drinks as much as Cass did. A few cleared the space in front of the band, shifting the chairs around and waltzing to the music. A sense of belonging lingered in the air, unlike the mindless chaos that stained Rita’s.

As warned, the bartender declined drinks to a few. Even the ones who posed the most threat to start a fight walked away without resistance. Not one sound of protest or trouble followed.

Elaine and Feyre returned when the band paused to start their next song. As Elaine settled into the seat across from him, she gave the widest smile to Azriel. He smiled back. Rhys filled Feyre’s glass and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Cass and Mor still disagreed with Nesta on the essence of true bar experience. Rhys took Nesta’s side only to watch his brother seethe with anger. With the remaining sisters returned to the table, it became clear Cass and Mor were losing the battle.

To add salt to their burn, Azriel trailed a finger along the rim of his glass and smirked. ‘I like this place too.’

‘You weren’t on board all night and now you have an opinion?’ Cass waved a hand of dismissal but his eyes burned with betrayal, ‘Go back to your brooding.’ 

Azriel grinned.

Laughing and stumbling, Mor headed to the bar. The bartender blushed so red that it wasn’t a mystery what she was up to. Minutes later, she returned with a bottle of amber liquor and a glass of a blue-green drink. Bottles were emptied, banter was shared, and laughs grew contagious. 

Even though it was harmless, raucous laughter, they attracted the wary eyes of the server. Azriel knew where they were headed. He slid Rhys’s glass of whiskey out of his grasp. His brother turned to him with an arched brow. He mumbled, ‘We’d need more than one ride tonight.’ 

Rhys didn’t argue. He limited his drinks as much as Azriel that night for the sake of his mate. Ever since Feyre, his brother’s usual recklessness waned. He became more attentive and considerate in ways he had never shown before. 

Both his brothers were equally troublesome. Cass with his wildness and brutality, and Rhys with his cunning and sly. And yet, after finding their mates, they were still all that and a bit more, someone better in every sense. 

Azriel looked at Mor pressed to his side, drunk and smiling. The woman he once loved. And then, Elaine, the one he wondered to be his mate. 

Even with the passage of time and endless disappointments, his heart refused to let go of hope—such a fickle thing for an immortal life. An everlasting pain that turned the kindest of souls into a force of cruelty—worse than love, worse than torture, worse than death.

To have heard of and believed in a spiritual bond with another was one thing, but to see it with his own eyes and long for it was not something even a damned soul like him could resist. 

Who wouldn’t want something so precious divined by Mother herself, to be blessed by her, to be born fortunate to have a mate in their lifetime and find them? 

Azriel knew love, he’d felt it. But how was it any different from a mating bond? Would a love be enough to save his wretched heart from himself? Could a love be as profound and sacred as a mating?

He looked at the happy faces of his family. Four of the seven—mated and in love. One with her supposed mate. 

Rare of the rarest.

And there he was. An ordinary rock amongst gems. One Mother didn’t deem worthy enough. Maybe she was right. What was he, after all, but an unlucky bastard? What would it take for Azriel to be one of them? Shadowsinger. Warrior. Servant. Brother. Friend. Survivor. Tortured. Abused. Broken. What more did he need to be to appease Mother to bless him with one miracle? 

What would make him one of the deserving?

He took the glass he snatched from his brother and downed the drink in one gulp. The liquor burned his throat, a good burn, almost as good as the one his hands endured a long, long time ago. 

Rhys turned to him with a blank stare. Azriel checked his mental wards and averted his eyes. It was pathetic enough to long for something he couldn’t have. He refused to warrant pity from his brothers as well. 

His family was together and happy. He breathed in the sweet aroma of the blue-green liquor Mor swirled in her glass. 

It was a good night. 

As he drank a little more, his shadows ventured out weaving through tables and shuffling feet. Azriel allowed it for a while before he reined them back. But they never answered when they returned, only dancing around his shoulders.

Moments later, they tried again, crawling down his back. The tug and pull of control slipped out of his hands as an invisible force stripped them off him. A gentle caress over his shoulders, coaxing him, easing him to let go. And his shadows followed this force, glad and willing, betraying their loyalty to him. Azriel didn’t touch his drink after that. 

As expected, the server approached their table and looked at him, the only one sober enough to be reasonable. 

‘We won’t cause any trouble,’ said Azriel before he could speak.

His shadows swayed around the back of his neck and leaned to peer beyond the man in their path. They stood still, unmoving and observing, and then crashed into his shoulder, turning into a dark mist.

The server watched them wide-eyed. He shook his head and peeked behind him at the once-closed door now open. ‘Maybe they could get something mild. Don't let Ayla see them like this.’ 

With those words, he stalked back to the bartender.

The room in front of him lacked the soft ambience outside with its golden lights and cosy furniture. A desk with a chair occupied the small space, giving a partial view of the bar. A woman bounded down the stairs that ran up from behind the door. She headed to the bar, exchanged a few words with the bartender, and went back inside. The servers paused by the door to greet her before they moved on.

Ayla.

To own a bar for high fae and lesser faeries alike, to have her workers and customers fear her, Ayla was laughably docile. Azriel had spent long enough around women of strength and courage to never judge one by looks, but he couldn’t help it. 

In her simple dark pants that flared at the hem and grey-white shirt, Ayla was underdressed than her workers. She was as tall as Feyre, maybe a few inches taller. Her face held a hint of innocence, not close to Elaine’s, but something about her convinced she was harmless. Unless she had a sharp tongue like Nesta or had someone like Mor or Amren to do her bidding, it was unlikely she managed to keep her patrons in line by herself.

‘Azriel,’ called Mor from beside him. Her eyes were unexpectedly fierce after all the wine she had. ‘You’re drinking, right?’ She waved the empty glass in her hand.

He knew he should have said no. He glanced at the server across the room, but Nesta and Mor had already left for the bar. His attention drifted to the three drunk men who stood too close to a young fae trying to get away from them. She inched closer and closer to Mor who whispered into Nesta’s ear making her laugh. 

The shadows on his shoulders grew restless, creeping up and down his arms. He should have offered to get the drinks himself.

Cass was in the middle of narrating an elaborate plot of his fights in Illyrian war camps from their childhood days to Elaine as she leaned over the table with enthralled horror in her eyes. Rhys smiled smugly at his exaggerations while Feyre looked over at the bar, thinking the same as Azriel.

The crude comments of the three men circling the fae made the bartender stare between them with nervous eyes. The air silenced around them, nothing but their obnoxious laughter echoed. The smile on Nesta’s lips vanished, and Mor noticed. His friends at the table paused their conversation. 

‘Come now,’ one of the men carried on, ‘don’t be like that.’ 

Ayla looked up from the paper in her hand. She stared ahead where the man would have stood if not for the wall in her path. Dropping the papers onto the table, she reached inside a drawer. As she stepped out of the room, she cradled a leather bracelet to her right wrist, pulling its straps taut against her skin. 

The bartender breathed in relief as she eased next to her and took a step back. Ayla gathered her hair, securing it at the nape of her neck as the bartender whispered in her ear. Locks of hair slipped free and framed her face. She swept a glance across the bar, took in the faces seated before her, deliberately shifting over the three men. She stood in front of them, mixing drinks with precision and expertise on par with the bartender. She didn't lift her eyes up again.

The man moved close to the fae who immediately backed away. He spoke into her ear but his words rang across the room. ‘Come on, love. It’s free drink. You should be grateful.’ 

A minute longer, and Nesta would have ripped that fool’s tongue with a shard of her broken glass. Azriel had seen enough bar fights—started a few and ended too many—to know when one loomed around the corner.

Ayla's eyes darted to the man’s hand reaching for the fae and then his face for a second while her body gave no sign of her attention on anything but the tumbler in her hand. 

A smirk tugged at Azriel's lips. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to let Mor and Nesta murder a few in a bar they had never visited before. Maybe it was a bad idea not to interfere with their authority which usually saved time with vermin like the man. Or maybe it was a bad idea to let the situation escalate, putting the fae in danger only to see the bar owner’s reaction.

But Azriel was not above making bad decisions to quell his curiosity. He leaned back and brought his glass to his lips.

‘She’s not interested,’ said Ayla in a voice so soft and smooth. With her eyes on the pink liquor she poured into a tall glass, she added, ‘And she has a drink.’ 

Her eyes met the fae's, gentle yet firm. She pushed the glass with her index finger. The fae heaved a sigh of relief and reached for it.

The man turned his attention to Ayla with a wicked smile. He ran his vile eyes over her and winked. ‘The coins are to shut your mouth, pretty. I’ll come back for you later.’ With a bone-grating chuckle, he returned to the fae who charted for a way to her table. He extended a hand in front of her, ‘So what do you say?’

Oh, how Azriel wanted to tear every tooth from his jaws. 

Ayla finally looked at him. Her eyes were calm and intense, a reassured stillness in them. She straightened and placed her hands on the counter. And it was enough to shift the air around them. The woman who commanded respect from her patrons was in the room instead of the quiet, lingering spirit that drifted in and out moments earlier. The band slowed their music, and the ones who refused to look at the ruckus dared to glance their way.

‘I’m going to ask you to leave.’

The man let out a grunt, mean and vulgar. ‘Shut up, you bitch.’ Gone was his smile as he hissed at the fae, ‘You’re starting to make me angry.’

His eyes widened as a hand grabbed the back of his hand and shoved it face-first onto the wood of the counter. His arms flailed miserably to stop the impact, only to fail. The following crunch made the fae flinch away.

Ayla let go and walked around the bar, her steps calculated and leisured. She slipped her dainty fingers through two gold rings attached to the inside of the bracelet. 

‘You okay?’ she asked the fae softly as she pulled the fingers away, two cords of metal unwinding between the rings and the leather. Once she got a frantic nod from the fae, she diverted her focus to the crying man who swiped at his face and stared at his bloodied hands.

Cass snorted. His drink sprayed through his nose, drenching himself and poor Elaine. Rhys’s eyes gleamed with amusement. Feyre looked between the three women at the counter.

The man screeched, ‘She hit me! That bitch hit me.’ His nose flared and spurts of blood leaked soaking his shirt. His eyes flashed with anger as he lunged forward, ‘You’ll pay for this.’

Ayla sauntered ahead with lazy steps and swerved when his fist came close. Her left hand went around his head once. The man stumbled forward by the wasted force of his body and his neck caught in the cords.

She pulled her hands back to her sides, the cords went taut, and the man fell to his knees. His bloodied fingers pried at the noose around his neck. His breaths grew shallow and raspy. Blood sprinkled from his nose with each strain of his chest. His pained cries echoed in the quiet. Not even his friends attempted to help him.

‘Whining on the floor,’ Ayla curved her wrist around his head again, watching his eyes grow wider. ‘Leash on your neck. You sure you aren’t the bitch?’

Looking down at him, she clawed his jaw open. Her other hand reached for a bottle on the counter, her void eyes never leaving his. She tipped it close to his mouth and his breath left his chest in a painful heave. 

‘It’s free drink, love,’ she said, her voice a lover’s purr. Low and soft. As the liquor filled his mouth and streamed down his shirt mixed with the red of his blood, she gritted her teeth. ‘Be grateful.’

The first emotion she showed.

It was inappropriate.

Utterly inappropriate.

A deep chuckle ripped from Azriel’s throat, loud enough to warrant the glances from his family and the ones beside their table.

When the man choked and his eyes blurred, Ayla stopped. Her fingers released him and slipped out of the rings with a simple flick. The rings whipped spraying drops of amber-red in the air before it latched onto the bracelet again, the cords disappearing between the black of the leather. 

She turned to his friends, ‘Don’t come back.’

They nodded and began to back away. The cries of their friend brought them out of their stupor and they carried him out with his blood staining the once perfect floor. 

Ayla blinked. 

Once they were out the door, she went back behind the counter, and time resumed. The band began their music again. Servers shuffled to clean the floors and check on the fae. The bartender wiped at the splotches of blood off the counter.

Ayla cleaned her hands and continued with her other orders. As she offered drinks to the ones still waiting at the bar, she smiled. Azriel set his glass down.

When she reached Mor and Nesta, she studied their faces and uttered a few words. Mor pointed at their table with a grin, her eyes sparkling under the light swaying over her head. 

Ayla spared each of them a glance. Her eyes paused at Cass and his wings, Azriel and his wings, and finally Rhys and behind him where his wings should have been. The shadows didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. They went erratic around his shoulders and for a moment her eyes returned to the shadowsinger again.

‘She’s judging us,’ Rhys muttered through his grin. The amusement in his eyes flickered and she held his gaze. ‘Rather harshly,’ he chuckled. 

Feyre frowned at him. ‘Stop it!’

Rhys’s smile fell from his lips. He hummed, staring at Ayla for a beat too long before he turned to his mate. ‘It’s not my fault. Her mind called to me,’ he kissed her cheek.

Azriel wanted to ask what his brother meant, but knew better. His shadows quietened around him, still as midnight air, draping over his shoulders with their ghostly weight. They didn’t sing to him much that night.

Mor and Nesta returned with a tray of drinks. Ayla wrapped an arm around the bartender and whispered in her ear, a smile still on her lips. Azriel wondered if there was more between the two. Ayla rushed out of her room at the first sign of trouble and took charge of every responsibility while the other stayed safe and recovered.

‘I like this place!’ Mor exclaimed as she slumped next to him and handed him a glass after taking one for herself.

Cass only cursed under his breath. ‘Because she gave you free booze?’ He stole a drink for himself, ‘But that show was fun.’

‘So was yours,’ Nesta laughed and pointed at his soaked front.

Ayla accepted a sealed plate from the server, with that smile of hers, and headed to her office. Her hand stilled over the doorknob. Crimson spotted her shirt along her torso below her ribs. She ran her fingers over them once, slowly. She blinked and wiped again at the dried stain. And again. Then she closed the door.

Once the glasses were emptied, Mor hated the place again. The drinks Ayla offered sobered them completely. Grumbling and muttering their disapproval at the trickery and betrayal, Mor and Cass walked out of the bar with the others trailing behind them. 

Azriel sneaked a glance at the locked door smiling before he joined his family. 

It was indeed a good night.

Next chapter: Sanctuary

[purple-writer8]

Heather - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“But I watch your eyes as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky… she’s got you mesmerized. While I die.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, oblivious az

1.2k words

Masterlist :)

Crushing on the shadowsinger was a bad idea, you knew that since the moment you joined the Inner Circle centuries ago. It was a family, and familiar dynamics could very well be affected by your stupid little crush, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating for him.

You were a master of lies, Azriel’s second in command as Spymaster— you were good at being a chameleon— at lying. So you’ve spent your entire life in the Inner Circle, lying to everyone, hiding your feelings for Azriel because surely you were not worthy enough for the shadowsinger. 

He was one of the strongest warriors in Prythian, the only current shadowsinger, an Ilyrian. You… you were just a sneaky thief turned spy. A lesser fae from the Winter Court, with eyes so white, you were terrifying to your enemies. Fingertips so cold, that with enough conviction, whatever you touched turned into frost. 

You weren’t enough for Azriel, or anyone really. The High Lord had found you three hundred centuries ago, you had somehow snuck into Hewn City, and then you had stolen heaps of artifacts and sold them in the Winter Court for profit. You were stealthy and quick, something he had appreciated when Cassian and Azriel finally brought you to him.

Rhysand gave you two choices: to be handed over to Kallias as a criminal, or stay in his court and serve him— because he was sure you would excel as a spy. In exchange, you got a family, gold, clothes, and a warm bed. It was a no-brainer for you.

Azriel and you were a dream team and with time, your feelings for the shadowsinger went from admiration to adoration. Who wouldn’t adore him? He was perfection, he was everything, and he was the love of your life— you weren’t his, though. 

You had never expressed your feelings because, frankly, you were not sure that you could handle rejection. So you pined and loved him in silence, hoping that one day a miracle dawned on him, and he would somehow fall for you— a frosty lesser fae. You knew you two were not mates, but cauldron, you could wish and yearn. 

It was more than wishful dreaming, though sometimes you thought that just maybe— maybe he reciprocated your feelings. He was so kind to you, so doting, so careful.

Though, that all stopped when Elain Archeron dropped into all of your lives. You liked Feyre, and loved Nesta— but Elain, you hated her. The middle Archeron was perfection, everything you were not. She was soft, kind, beautiful, High Fae, and… Azriel liked her.

You knew it was bad that you hated her for being of his interest, but you had never once claimed to be a good person. Two years into her arrival and you could not stand the likes of her. 

You were sitting in the River House, playing board games with the Inner Circle, Nesta, and Lucien. Much to your delight, Elain hadn’t joined. It was the beginning of winter in the Night Court, and though you were made of ice— you weren’t immune to the cold. You shivered as you laid down one of your cards, and it caused Cassian to laugh at you.

“You turned my room into ice last winter solstice, and now you shiver?” He teased you, making you roll your white eyes at him. “Should’ve brought a coat,” Feyre taunted you, and you nodded. “Guys, I really thought it wasn’t as cold,” you chuckled, rubbing your cold as ice hands together to get some warmth, which was to no avail because there was no warmth inside you. Frost appeared in your hands at this action, causing you to groan. 

 Your heart stopped, though, when you felt a warm sweater wrapping around your shoulders. Your eyes flickered to Azriel, who gave you a small smile, “thank you,” you said softly.

 “It looks better on you than it does me,” the shadowsinger shrugged, his shadows coiling around your frozen hands, trying to warm you up. You smiled, about to answer, but his eyes snapped away from you, as did his shadows. Your eyes followed his gaze, meeting with Elain as she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. Your heart dropped, she was a sight for sore eyes, a sight for Azriel’s eyes. 

 She had him mesmerized, and you felt like you wanted to die. Inching away from Azriel, you continued your game, dropping his sweater unto the couch behind you. You were an ice fae, you could manage. 

When dinner came around, you were quiet all through the affair. You seethed in silence as you watched him drape the very same sweater he had given you, over Elain’s shoulders. The cold pulsed through your veins, and soon your utensils were turning into ice as you watched the scene unfold.

Elain told some story about her up-and-coming garden, and you got the urge to go and freeze her flowers to death. Obviously you did not. She was an angel, a good person. 

You kind of wished she were dead. You reprimanded your mind for being so evil. How could anyone ever love you? You were terrible… and not even half as pretty as Elain. Your thoughts were dark, and your heart made of stone-cold ice. Love was not something you would ever get. 

After dinner, you seethed outside. The snow that fell over you felt like fire on your skin, and you could feel your fingertips freezing as they created small snowflakes. “Come inside, it’s so cold outside,” that husky voice you worshiped spoke from the from door, causing you to turn to him.

His shadows rushed to you, swirling around your body to shield you from the snow. You turned away from Azriel, not wanting him to see you in your essence. Your veins shone black underneath your pale skin, your eyes glowing white, while ice slipped from your fingers and wrapped itself around you. 

You heard his footsteps crunching in the snow, then large wings wrapped around you in a protective manner as he towered over you. “Don’t look at me,” you mumbled, your eyes casting downward, not wanting him to see your eyes.

“Why?” He asked softly, scarred thumb wiping away frost that had gathered on your cheek. Then it clasped around your chin, tilting it upward so you looked up at him. 

His hazel eyes skimmed over your face slowly, “what’s wrong?” He asked softly, making you tilt your face away from his grasp. “Don’t.” You stated. You wished he knew, wish that you had been obvious enough, because you were so tired of pining for someone who did not love you back. 

“What?” He asked, a puzzled look happening upon his chiseled and devastatingly beautiful face. “You gave her your sweater,” you did not care how preposterous you were being, you couldn’t hold back. You had enough of this. 

"What? It’s just a sweater, does it matter?” Azriel asked, his shadows coiling around his ear to whisper in his ear. Jealous girl, jealous fae. 

 “You like her better.” The jealousy was pouring out of you, manifesting in ice that crawled all over your body. 

 “I can’t keep wishing I was Elain.” 

-

Part Two

Author’s Note:

IK the elain/azriel x pining reader is done a lot butttttt i love this song and i wanted to write my take on the triangle with heather as inspiration!

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe

[hellwantfuckme]

azriel meeting his mate (headcanons)

author's note: this is just a silly little thing, not more than 1k words.

The first time Azriel sees her, his heart skips a beat. At first, for the first split seconds, he doesn't know exactly what has made his heart race like that. He forgot all the discomfort of tucking his wings tightly to his back to avoid hitting anything, trying to make himself smaller if possible. There was nothing in his mind for a few seconds, nothing. The only thing he was able to do was to look at her, standing with her back straight and hands in front of her, one holding the other. Her brown eyes opened slightly surprised as she realized the huge wings accompanying him and Cassian, probably also because of how large they were in general.

Azriel didn't realize that her looking at him was a necessity until she did it for mere milliseconds and quickly returned to her brothers. As if trying to absorb every detail and difference.

Cassian had glanced at Azriel for a moment, the way Azriel's heart beat almost perfectly audible to him. Azriel had to make an impulse to keep his shadows under control, tucked behind his wings on his back. He didn't want, and had no intention, to scare any of the Archeron sisters and cousin, especially because they had let them use their home to meet with the queens, which was something to be grateful for.

Although the gods they wrongly say if he could stand to think about that when she looked at him. And she looked at him, fixedly. Her eyebrows curved in the slightest expressions of fear, barely a glint. But it was enough for Azriel to notice and, strangely, without thinking about what he was doing, tuck his wings to his back and his chin sunk a little, the hands he had hanging at his sides moved to hide behind his back, almost as if he were trying to make himself smaller to not scare her. And when some of the tension in her shoulders disappeared, and her expression subtly softened, Azriel knew he would kneel right there if it made her not fear him. He actually didn't notice the strangeness of all this, perhaps because she was clouding everything right now, because he didn't usually just... Act. His whole life had been governed by a single dynamic, thinking and analyzing before acting. But trying to make himself smaller had been an instinct, as natural as breathing, as hiding his hands behind his back when meeting someone.

Somehow he registered in a corner of his mind that Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian had noticed whatever was between him and her.

Feyre introduced her, Azriel didn't miss the hidden affection in her voice as she spoke of her cousin. Azriel was tempted to murmur it to see how it felt against his lips, in his language. And the name echoed in his head for what seemed an eternity until... it just clicked. Something clicked and Azriel didn't know what it was, he didn't know what it was that now made her so familiar when he was sure this was the first time he had met the woman. He didn't know why when he looked at her again, his lungs filled with air and then exhaled and felt like it was the first time he had breathed after an eternity.

She had blinked and Azriel found himself drinking in every reaction, every slight change in her proportionally sharp features. The orange light illuminating her olive skin was not bright enough to let him see what color her eyes were, if they were black or a brown so deep that it was confusing. Azriel wondered how she would look in the full sunlight, and under the stars of Velaris.

There was no fearful arch in her straight eyebrows now, there was no trace of discomfort in her, she simply looked at him and Azriel held her gaze.

Nesta, Feyre's older sister, said something about dinner being ready. And then she moved, with Elain behind her.

She blinked, looking away from Azriel, and finally gave a glance at Rhysand and Cassian. Although not a very focused one, thousands of miles from the kind of look she had given Azriel. She nodded gently in the direction where Nesta and Elain had gone. "you first" she said, a polite smile on her lips.

But Azriel didn't move for a moment, he stayed there, with his heart beating in his throat and finding all his muscles suddenly numb. She looked at him again, but this time it was too much for Azriel. He lowered his gaze and forced himself to walk, to follow Cassian's direction with Rhysand behind, while Feyre and she stayed behind. Not much, a considerable distance between him and his brothers and them.

And, what the hell just happened?

The question echoed in his mind as he blinked, moving one foot behind the other.

"Don't look at me like that," he heard her voice murmuring with a hint of embarrassment several meters behind him. She was probably talking to Feyre. And he didn't know exactly how he had been looking at Feyre, but he knew why.

[serpentandlily]

Butterfly Fly Away

Butterfly Fly Away - Platonic!Reader x BatBoys

Summary: You’ve been bestfriends with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel since childhood but with the new additions to your Inner Circle, it's starting to feel like you are being replaced. When confronted, your three friends brush off your concerns, leading you to believe it’s time to move on and start a life of your own. But once you’re gone, the three brothers begin to realize just how much they need you in their lives. 

Based on this request.

Warnings: A mix of angst and fluff. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

Butterfly Fly Away

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You let out a long shaky breath, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking around your now empty room in the Townhouse. You had packed up everything. Your clothes, your trinkets, the parchments full of scribbles from Nyx, the painting Feyre had gifted you of the whole family together. All of it.

Your chest felt hollow. The silence and emptiness was deafening. So many memories were made in this room, down these halls, in this city. The thought of leaving that all behind made your heart ache but the thought of staying here hurt worse. 

You had met Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian during your youth and struck a friendship with them. A friendship that had grown and grown into what felt like an impenetrable bond between the three of you. 

And they had always stressed how much importance you had within the family. The peacemaker, the mediator, the one who could end fights between them before they even began. Your magic was able to read the emotions of others, making you adept at talking others through their own feelings—of helping them understand why they felt the way they did. 

It was really the only thing you were good for. You weren’t a skilled fighter, or strategist, or politician. All weakness you hated considering your family was made of the most powerful fae.

But when it came to matters of the heart? Well, you were an expert. For everyone else anyways, considering yours was currently being torn apart. 

You had been there for each of them during the best and worst of days. Through the war, through Rhysand losing his family, through the forty-nine years without him. The four of you with Mor and Amren included had built a small family together. 

A family that was no longer around because they had all found another. And you had been left with none. 

Slowly but surely they had completely erased your spot in the family with the Archeron sisters. It wasn’t even that you didn’t like the three sisters. Each of them had a special place in your heart. But they changed the dynamic of the group so drastically. 

And you no longer felt like you belonged. 

Mor had felt it too, which was why she was more than happy to be sent to the continent to work on alliances there. Amren had found herself a lover and seemed content with keeping him all to herself. 

But you…you had nothing without them. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. 

You had tried to bring it up with them, had tried to hint that you felt a bit left out and neglected. But they had brushed you off, telling you it was time you “found a life of your own like they had.” You thought you did have a life of your own already. Here. But apparently that was not the case. 

You let out another sigh as you stared at the last three things you had to pack. You picked up the first one, a smooth rock—a red creek jasper. You still remembered the day Azriel had given it to you when you both were only eleven. 

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“You can do it, Az!” you shouted. 

You were standing underneath a very large boulder, holding a hand over your eyes as the sun shone down on you and Rhys. Cassian and Azriel were both on top of the boulder, wings spread wide as Cassian tried to direct Azriel on how to fly. 

Azriel’s face was nearly white and you could tell even from where you were standing that his hands were shaking. You took a few steps closer to the rock, holding your little arms out. 

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” you yelled up to him. “I promise!”

It was at that moment that Cassian decided he was over waiting for Azriel to jump and pushed the boy off the rock instead. Azriel shrieked, a sound he had never made before, and frantically tried to pump his wings but it was no use. He crashed right into you, sending you both sprawling on the ground.

“Y/n,” he gasped, rolling off of you. “Are you okay?” 

His eyes were wide with both shock and concern. They only widen more when you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. It hurt, a lot. You were both eleven but Azriel was already bigger than you. 

“I told you I’d catch you!” The look on his normally unreadable face sent you into another fit of giggles. 

Later that day, Azriel had gone to the nearby creek and dug around for hours looking for the perfect rock to give you, knowing you liked collecting the cool ones you found. He had apologized numerous times, even though it had been Cassian’s fault, but he still felt guilty. He finally stumbled on a tiny, smooth rock that was a mixture of dark orange and red swirls.

When he came home that night and offered it to you as another apology, Cassian and Rhys had laughed themselves nearly sick but you had just smiled at the shy boy and squeezed the rock in your hand, holding against your chest. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

It was the first gift Azriel had given you and it had stayed with you all these years. 

You wrapped it back in the silk handkerchief you kept it in and placed it in your bag. 

Your eyes moved to the next item. A scarf made from various scraps of fabric. Definitely not fashionable, but it had been a special gift from Rhysand.

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“Why do you carry that old blanket around with you still?” The thirteen year-old Rhys was peering at the dirty blanket in your hand with a sneer. “We’re not babies anymore, y/n. You should get rid of it.” 

You pulled the blanket closer to you—a blanket made up of random scraps of fabric, the only thing your mother could afford at the time. It was ratty, falling apart at the seams, but it was special to you. 

“It’s the only thing I have left of her,” you said, quietly, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. 

Your mother had passed away years ago and your father, who had never loved her in the first place, had tossed out all her belongings. You had only managed to get your hands on the blanket before it was taken away.   

Rhys had said nothing else about it until winter solstice came around that year. You hadn’t noticed that he had snuck into your room and taken the blanket—bringing it to his mother to make into something a little better for you to carry around with you. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

He had given you the scarf that night and every single snowfall, it was the first one you pulled out. You packed it away with a heavy heart. You were moving to the Day Court, something you had already discussed with the Inner Circle, and you would hardly have use for it there. 

The last item sat on your dresser, a white, stuffed pegasus toy—a gift from Cassian. 

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A knock sounded on your door but you ignored it, rolling over in your bed and wiping your tears.

Another knock.

“Y/n! Open up! I know you’re in there,” Cassian shouted through the door.

“Go away, Cass,” you managed to croak out through your tears. “I’m not in the mood.”

There was a pause before he shouted through the door again.

“What’s wrong, y/n? I can tell you’re crying!”

“Nothing, just go away!”

The door burst open and you shot up in your bed, cursing at yourself for not making sure it was locked. Cassian walked into your room, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 

“Y/n?” He asked, quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

A tiny sob broke through your lips and Cassian was at your side instantly, wrapping an arm around you. You both were only sixteen, but Cassian was already starting to look more like a male than a boy with how big he was getting. 

“Cyrus b-broke up with me,” you choked out. 

“Oh thank the gods!”

You glared up at Cassian, shoving him away from you.

“Get out if you’re going to be like that.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, y/n, I just mean… Well, we all think you’re too good for him, you know. He’s an asshole.”

More tears poured from your eyes and Cassian pulled you to his chest again. “I am really sorry, y/n. I know how much you liked him.”

Cassian had stayed with you that night, holding you until you cried yourself to sleep. When you woke up the next day, a tiny stuffed Pegasus was waiting on your nightstand with a note attached to it.

‘I hope this little guy helps you feel better. But if you need to let off some steam, come find me in the training ring—Cassian.’

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You hugged the pegasus to your chest for a moment before dropping it into your bag with the last of your stuff. 

You were supposed to leave in the morning after a goodbye breakfast with the whole family, but the trip down memory lane had you feeling too upset.

You didn’t know if you could handle seeing them all, especially when they seemed to have no qualms about you leaving. 

Cassian didn’t need a secondary sparring partner to Azriel anymore now that he had Nesta. Rhys didn’t need help reading through correspondence now that he had Feyre. And those serene walks through the woods with Azriel? Well, those went to Elain now. 

You pulled out the copy of keys you had for the Townhouse and River House and set them down on the dresser in the room. You took one last look around, your heart breaking in your chest, before finally winnowing away.

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“This alliance with Vallahan could go two ways,” Rhys said, stroking his jaw. “They fight with us against Koschei and end this whole thing before it becomes a full blown war. Or they’re faking their support and have already sided with Koschei.”

“If they are, the results of that will be devastating,” Mor said with a frown. “Our armies are still so depleted and even with the help of the other courts minus Autumn, Koschei has triple our numbers if Vallahan has already sided with him.” 

Cassian let out a low whistle as he stared over the battle plans. “We’d be fucked. Utterly fucked.”

“We can’t win in that scenario,” Azriel piped up from next to Cassian.

“We can’t win without their help either,” Feyre said. “This decision is everything. Everything relies on this decision. You really couldn’t get a read on them, Mor?” 

Mor shook her head. “They were careful with their wording and vague. They were certainly speaking the truth, but it meant little.”

“Their mental defenses were too strong to get through without force. But if they are being honest and I break into their minds, we might as well kiss the alliance goodbye,” Rhys sighed. “If only there was another way to get a read on them. I hate going into this blind with only our own faith.” 

The room was silent as they all pondered what this meant for the battle against Koschei. 

“There is…someone who could help.”

Everyone’s head whipped towards Cassian. Rhysand waved a hand at him to continue. Cassian swallowed audibly.

“Y/n.”

That name had everyone sitting up straight. Rhysand raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding. Not until it clicked in his head.

“She can read people’s emotions,” he breathed out. “I… I never thought about her using it this way. I just thought it was good for—well, you know.”

“Just meddling?”

Rhys nodded, feeling a bit ashamed. The room went quiet again, everyone soaking in what Cassian was suggesting.

“Would she even help? You all basically ran her out of this court,” Mor huffed, causing tensions to rise. 

“Not this again,” Cassian groaned.

Mor stood from her seat, bristling at Cassian’s words. “I’m being serious. She has been your guys’ friend since you were kids. And you all left her in the dust even after she tried to tell you guys how she felt!”

When Mor had returned from the continent and learned of you leaving the court, she had been beyond angry at the three males for their treatment of you. She had written you several letters apologizing and you had welcomed her back into your life. 

But she was the only one you still talked to. 

The room was dead quiet. Each of the three males shared looks of guilt and embarrassment because Mor was right. They had completely taken you for granted and cast you aside once the sisters started having bigger roles in their life. And they had let you go without even trying to convince you to stay. 

“I miss her.”

Azriel’s voice was so quiet, like he hadn’t even meant to say those words out loud. 

Cassian let out a long sigh. “I miss her too.”

Mor glanced around at the other members of the Inner Circle before gesturing towards the door. “I think the boys need to discuss this amongst themselves.” 

Once the door shut behind Feyre, Rhys leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “I hadn’t realized how much of an impact she had. Things haven’t felt right here without her.” 

“No, they haven’t,” Cassian agreed. “We really did kind of… forget about her. Not intentionally but still.” 

“Have you talked to her?” Azriel asked, looking at his High Lord.

“Have you?”

Azriel looked away in answer, feeling a bit of guilt. 

“Do you think she’s still in the Day Court?” Cassian asked. 

Rhys nodded. “Yes, Helion is quite fond of her it seems.” 

Cassian snickered while a ghost of a grin crossed Azriel’s face. It wasn’t hard to imagine you in Day. You had always been a beacon of light for the group and they knew how easily you made friends wherever you went. It came naturally to you as an empath. 

“Do you think…” Cassian trailed off, sounding a bit insecure. “Do you think she’d come home? If we asked?” 

“She didn’t even say goodbye before she left,” Azriel murmured. 

“We can try but I think we should be honest with her about our feelings,” Rhys said. “I’d hate for her to think we’re just asking her back so she can help us with this.” 

“She’s going to know how we’re feeling anyways,” Cassian laughed. “Remember?”

Rhys grinned, thinking of all the times you had caught them in blatant lies because of your abilities, all the times you meddled with their love lives and friendships too. 

There really was a you-shaped hole in the group now. The three shared a look of guilt. It was a shame it took this long for them to realize it. 

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Three knocks against the door of your small cottage woke you up. You groaned, sitting up and blinking the sleep from your eyes. You had gone to one of Helion’s illustrious parties last night and had not been expecting to be woken up this early.

You shrugged on a silk robe over your nightgown and made your way to your front door.

Your eyes widened in shock as soon as you opened it, staring at the three males you hadn’t seen in a little over a year. You stepped aside, wordlessly, letting them into your new home. The distance had not made the bond between the four of you shrink, even after all this time, it seemed.

They greeted you in their own ways. Azriel with a soft smile, Cassian with a booming hello and hug, and Rhys was a feline grin and pat on the shoulder. You strode to the kitchen as they took a seat in your living room.

“I need coffee,” you announced. “Anyone else?”

“Long night?” Cassian teased.

“Don’t even ask,” you joked back, pulling out four mugs as they all said yes to your offer.

It was silent while the coffee brewed, and their emotions were all over the place. Nervousness, guilt, hope and regret. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grabbed the mugs and set them on the coffee table, taking a seat on an armchair.

“No offense,” you started. “But why are you guys here? I haven’t spoken to any of you in over a year.”

“That’s kind of what we’re here about,” Rhys replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow at them, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he continued. “We…We want you to come home.”

You nearly spit your coffee out. That was not what you were expecting him to say. After all, they didn’t seem very upset when you told them you were leaving the Night Court in the first place.

“Why?” you managed to choke out.

“I’ll be honest. We’re dealing with a situation back home and it made us realize how much of an importance you played, not just in our court but in our lives. We miss you, y/n. We regret how we treated you the past few years.”

“We all just got so caught up in our own problems, we didn’t even realize how much we were neglecting you,” Cassian added with a sincere frown. “You were such a constant in our lives and I guess we sort of took that for granted, assuming you’d always be there.”

“I tried to tell you how I felt,” you murmured, hiding half your face behind your coffee mug.

“I’m sorry for brushing you off,” Azriel said, quietly. “Truly. A lot was happening and like Cassian said, I just figured once we got through it all, things could resume as normal.”

“So why have none of you written to me in the year I’ve been gone?”

“After you left, Mor kind of chewed us out,” Cassian said, sheepishly. “We all just assumed you were mad at us and left because you needed space. I know it’s not a good excuse but well, you know more than anyone that we’ve never been great at communicating.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. That was the reason you meddled so much. To get them to talk about their feelings, express themselves. It was hard staying quiet when you knew how a person truly felt.

“We miss you and we need you, y/n,” Rhys cut in. “Things haven’t been the same since you left. I’m sorry it took so long for us to realize and I’m sorry for how we treated you. You’re our best friend, our sister. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Me either.” Both Azriel and Cassian interjected.

You thought about it, thought of the year you spent without them. While you had started anew, made new friends, had lovers, you did miss them dearly. It made you realize something about the bond you all shared, about your friendship in general. Life changes and sometimes people get preoccupied with other things but that bond you felt hadn’t shrunk, hadn’t grown any weaker. It was still the same as it had been the day you left.

They would always be your best friends, your brothers by name.

And their feelings were genuine. You of all people would know.

“Please come home,” Cassian begged. “I need you--we all need you.”

This house was not a home without the people you cared about. As much as you loved the Day Court, it wasn’t the same. Not without all the memories tied to it. And perhaps this had just made your friendship with them stronger, made you all realize how much you needed each other despite now having more priorities in your lives. You couldn’t fault them for finding love, for building families.

The three of them were nearly holding their breath with anticipation, waiting for your answer. A smile broke out on your face and their shoulders dropped.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll come home. But I’m keeping this as my vacation house and you all owe me a years’ worth of mooncakes when we get home.”

Laughter filled the tiny cottage as they eagerly agreed to your terms. A new warmth spread in your chest. You were finally going home back to your true family. 

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[extremely-judgemental]

Cassian is ugly and his arc is messier. The more you look into his past and his chemistry/dynamic with other characters, his behaviour doesn’t corroborate with his words, and it becomes harder to see him as the goofy, sunshine guy SJM wants us to believe.

(response to this by @flat-neines. I agree with everything you pointed out and I didn’t want to hijack your post, so here we are. This has been in my drafts for months and I didn’t have the mental capacity to put them in a coherent order, and it’s a LOT (also because I didn’t want to dedicate another post to this mf, really). So, have an open mind and take it with a grain of salt. If anyone doesn’t want another long rant, you should read that one lol.)

Cassian is devoted to Rhysand.

For a bastard who’s constantly dismissed in his life, Rhysand is the first one to give him the validation he craves. Of all the boys, he was the chosen one and his life turned around when he was basically adopted (I’m not gonna repeat this again, you can read it here). Because of this, he is more loyal to Rhysand than his people, his title, his armies, or even his court.

Cassian doesn’t see Azriel as his equal.

He’s been enjoying this new life for a whole year and only befriends Rhysand after Azriel comes into the picture. They both are bastards. They both are underprivileged. Cassian’s unwarranted aggression towards an already abused boy, who doesn’t know how to fly or fight, outside their training can imply that he saw him as a threat to his status with Rhysand. So, he put him in his place.

There are two other instances where his sense of superiority comes through. First, in the dinner scene in MAF where he boasts about giving Azriel hell and he doesn’t hesitate to share about his captivity. There’s no emotional cue in the conversation that indicates he truly feels bad for either of those. Morrigan has to interrupt the guy who is supposedly emotionally so capable of reading the room that he gets Feyre’s trauma during their training better than anyone and ‘knows’ what Nesta needs to heal.

Second during Eris’s seduction in SF. Cassian is jealous only when Eris is dancing with Nesta. Azriel can keep up with her too, but he isn’t bothered by it. It’s dismissed because they are friends and he trusts his friend. But Cassian’s insecurity is that he’s a brute through and through and it’s why Nesta sees him as less than. And Azriel is well-mannered compared to him in every way. He’s polite, he sings and dances, and also he has a way with people which is noted in his interactions with the Archeron sisters and the priestesses. But his mannerisms don’t bring out these fears in Cassian. (Insecurities don’t understand if you’re their friend or foe.)

If, instead of being a bastard, Azriel had been a true son of a lord, their dynamic would’ve been so different. 

Cassian doesn’t love Morrigan.

Both are bastards, but Morrigan, the second woman he encounters in his life, is drawn to Azriel and not him. Cassian knows Azriel longer, he knows how much he’s been deprived of love, and he knows his reservations around people. He still chooses to hurt him and only realises his mistake when he sees the look on his face, but he already knew his brother is in love. The reason that makes sense is Morrigan validates him by sleeping with him, proves that he isn’t at the bottom of the pyramid, there’s someone else beneath him—Azriel. Once he got that, he moved on. It’s why he’s not bothered by her endless partners which clearly affects Azriel. Which is why he still flirts with her because he doesn’t regret it.

And now, he still doesn’t love Morrigan. He’s infatuated with the idea of the 17-year old big-eyed girl who saw him as a saviour. With the sexual element thrown in, she became the standard against which other women in his life are measured.

Cassian doesn’t want a mate.

His dream is to have children—not specifically a mate—so that he can be a better father. He only mentions ‘mate’ because he knows he has one. Mating bonds are rare and the one he witnesses is the worst of the ‘mating bond gone wrong’ cases with Rhysand’s parents. His desire for a mate is not as woven into his identity as it is for Azriel. He wants a woman to bear his children—like the other Illyrians, and for him, it’s convenient that she’s already chosen. Even without a mate, Cassian would have settled with any woman as long as he could parent someone. This also shows in the way he treats Nesta. If he yearned for such a bond, he wouldn’t disrespect it as much as he did and definitely wouldn’t prioritise Rhysand over it.

The second bond he witnesses is between Rhysand and Feyre. Since he doesn’t know what happened UtM, all he sees is Feyre knowing the ‘bad guy’ act and still falling in love with his best friend, Feyre supporting him and going along with his every decision. Given how Cassian idolises him, he wants to replicate their relationship even to the point of breaking Nesta to his will. He wants someone to be his Feyre.

His treatment of Nesta in SF is more than his loyalty to Rhysand. The first and only woman to nurture him is Rhysand’s mother. She took him in, fed him, clothed him, educated him. She cared for him in ways his mother should have and couldn’t. Cassian wants an amalgamation of Rhysand’s mother (the ideal mother for his children) and young Morrigan (his dream standard). But he’s stuck with Nesta who is neither ‘motherly’ to anyone nor does she admire him. When Cassian says ‘he’s shackled to her’, he means it. So, he moulds her into someone who is in awe of him, puts him on a pedestal, and makes him feel like a superior male.

Cassian’s arc is fake and forced.

The beginning of SF is quite strong with Cassian doubting himself. He is a War General and yet he struggles to earn the respect of his people because of his status. He’s thrust into the role of a courtier and he questions himself more and more as he’s not a high-born, nor is he trained to handle such diplomatic situations. 

Cassian is no Jon Snow.

His insecurities stem from the fact that he’s a bastard born to an unnamed father. It’s rooted in his core identity. However, Cassian’s situation is not so unique. Of course, he lost his mother because of his birth and that’s an incomparable trauma but it’s also common among his people who breed women. Every boy is thrown into the camps and trained, and only rightful ones are allowed in the Blood Rite. They don’t even live with their families and the only exception is Rhysand. Not to dismiss his trauma, but his insecurity falls flat and undermines the narrative when we factor in Illyrian culture.

All this could have been fixed if Cassian had tried to earn the respect of his people instead of the courtiers who were never going to anyway. Though he’s a War General, he doesn’t share camaraderie with his soldiers, he doesn’t live with them, and he has no respect for them. He does nothing to change his own beliefs or prove to others that he's more than a bastard. Instead, he uses a ‘you have no right to judge me’ attitude while constantly looking for approval everywhere.

Instead of addressing it where it counts, he’s comparing himself with Lucien and Eris, but not Vassa (a human queen) and Jurian (a renowned human War general). Why does an Illyrian who yearns for respect from his people compete with a select few who are only high fae and are of royal blood?

Nesta is his cure-all.

There’s one instance that truly marks Cassian’s supposed growth—where he sees his real ‘worth’—when Nesta admires him for his wits and apologises. In the same conversation, he admits his act was inspired by her. This is meant to be a ‘We make each other better’ moment but it fails miserably as Cassian spends the entire book tearing her down. He shows little to no concern for her wishes or needs. He assaults her in her room, stalks her, dismisses the bargain, and coerces her into an imbalanced relationship. For someone who cares so little about Nesta and her opinion of him, his fears being wiped out in a single conversation is laughable. For someone who doesn't believe he's smart, he sure seemed quite smug about outdoing an evil witch instead of it being pointed out by others and coming to the realisation being a bastard has nothing to do with being a hero.

(This could also be seen as his jealousy which leads him to fuel her self-loathing and fears so that Nesta never realises she deserves better than him. Which is quite similar to what he does with Azriel. The only ones he allows to surpass him are Rhysand, Feyre by extension, and Morrigan since he already got what he wanted from her.)

On the other hand, the one whose validation he truly seeks is Rhysand. Cassian's inner monologues clearly suggest his attempt at embodying him during the different meetings. Despite this imitation, he says the aforementioned to Nesta which can only be seen as a manipulation tactic.

I don’t even think this conflict was even in the OG Cassian character. SJM slapped it on him just for SF because it’s convenient and he needs an arc in his book. But she doesn’t want to fix Illyria or even give it a spotlight, so she stuck with Cassian trying to beat Eris. His insecurities aren’t even resolved. He still hasn’t come to terms with him being a bastard. His healing requires acceptance from himself first and also deep self-reflection. Nesta is only a supply for his ego and an emotional punching bag. Honestly, Cassian disgusts me more than Rhysand.

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate

Azrielx Archeron Oc

A/N- happy day 4 of my week celebrating over 100 new friends 💙 here is the winning poll piece with Azriel and our little Archeron OC, Kaylee. This mostly takes place pre-hybern and the Cauldron, but expect a turn at the end. This is a little bit of a Rollercoaster because I love the idea of Az and Kaylee going into her being made already kind of courting.

Summary - After her older sister returns home with 3 males in tow, Kaylee finds her life turn upside down by one of them. She is unknowingly drawn to the scarred male, and he to her.

Less fun Warnings - mentions of death and child loss (nothing graphic just in a healing house sense), mentions of SA, angst. Kidnapping

The fun warnings - smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics (because what kind of Az fic doesn't pay into bdsm?), innocent oc, one use of impact play

Word count - around 3866

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

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The first time Azriel came, Feyre and Kaylee held eye contact, communicating silently. Her older sister had brought 3 men, males, she corrected herself, into their home, and now, she sat next to the one who had pretty blue gems. She supposed he was pretty, too.

If you liked your partner to quite possibly be able to kill you with their bare teeth.

And Kaylee supposed, again, that she maybe did. She looked at him before looking at Feyre and then went back to poking at her food.

When she went to bed that night, locked in her room alone by Nesta's orders, Kaylee could have sworn she saw a shadow move before something cool danced in hair and laced between her fingers.

On his second visit, Azriel found himself looking for Kaylee. He had bought something for her at a jewelry shop, without any inkling as to why. He held the small box containing the pretty raw sapphire necklace as he entered her room at the estate.

He froze at the sight of her. Her long sandy blonde hair was damp, she was wrapped in a soft fluffy robe. She was sitting at her vanity, frozen as she stared back at him. "Aren't you supposed to be dropping a letter off to Nesta?" Her voice reminded him of summer rain. It had played in his mind constantly the past couple weeks.

"I did. I was hoping to see you." He smiled as a flush instantly hit her face, gracing her cheekbones. "Only if that is okay, though. Nesta and Elain do not know I snunk up here." Kaylee nodded. She motioned for him to join her in the room, and he sat on her bed. The smell of jasmine and vanilla hit him instantly. Expensive, a shadow whispered. "How is the healing house?"

Kaylee smiled as she turned to him, running an oil through her long beautiful hair. Soft, another shadow whispered. "It's been okay. Lots of kids this week with colds and allergies. Poor little things."

"Do you want kids someday?" The question was out before Azriel could stop himself. "Sorry I-"

"With the right person, yes." Kaylee answered without hesitation. "But only if Feyre likes them. Which I guess gives me my short lifetime to find someone." Azriel felt his heart deflate at the reminder. Human, a shadow whispered. She is just human.

Azriel stood as she turned back to the mirror, keeping the box behind his back and he approached her. "Hold your hair up for me, Kaylee." She watched him from the mirror but did as he asked. "I bought this for you. I thought I couldn't help but to think of it with your eyes when I saw it." She allowed him access to her neck without fear as she watched him. His hands were shaking from his nerves as he placed the delicate necklace on her and closed the latch.

He couldn't help himself as he reached behind her, positioning the stone so it sat perfectly centered above her breasts. "Beautiful," he whispered to her softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

On his third visit, Azriel wasn't even supposed to technically be there. He had been trying to get into the Mortal Queen's Castle. During his flight, he was struck with an arrow. It wasn't ash, wasn't laced with faebane, but he took advantage of the injury nonetheless, using it as an excuse to see Kaylee. He was currently sat on her vanity stool, shirtless, as she cleaned the wound. "I don't know much about fae healing. It looks like it's already closing, though."

Azriel chuckled. "It probably is. I just wanted an excuse to see you." He laughed again as her face flushed and she smacked him on the shoulder. "Can you blame a male for wanting a pretty girl to tend to his injuries?"

Kaylee shook her head smiling before moving to clean the barely there cut on his face. "You are a shameless flirt, Azriel."

"Only when it comes to you, honeybee." He adjusted the sapphire necklace, smiling slightly. "How are you?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Nesta and Cassian got into it today when he stopped by. The energy of the house has been off since then. It's just a heavy feeling?" She looked at him, hoping he understood what she meant and he nodded. "How are you?"

"I was shot with an arrow today, Kaylee. I too have had better days." She couldn't help but to laugh at the statement, her head falling into his shoulder. He'd do anything to hear her laugh, to see her smile. "I did get to see you. So that does make up for it." She pulled back slightly, her face near his. The cut was long gone, the wound in his side had closed and all that was left was a faint pink mark.

Az, a familiar purr came into his mind. Where are you?

Almost to the wall. I'll be home soon. Azriel locked Rhysand out, his hand absent-mindedly moving to Kaylee's face.

Neither of them know if he moved in, or if she did, but one second there was a breath of air between them, the next, there was nothing but his lips on hers. Moving together as he pulled her closer between his legs and her hands came to rest on his chest.

It felt like, for once, something good was in his pathway. Something whole and pure. He pulled away from her, instantly missing the taste of honey and green tea that lingered on her, and rested his forehead against hers. "I have to go, Rhys is calling for me."

Kaylee just nodded. "Was that your way of saying goodbye?" Azriel nodded. "We should always say goodbye like that then."

"Agreed."

Azriel's third visit was spent mapping out the house. He had not seen Kaylee since his last stop, but a small box sat heavy in his pocket waiting for the moment Nesta was done with him so he could see her.

"The last room is Kay's," the oldest sister glared at him. "She might be in there, so if she is, do not speak with her and leave her alone." Azriel nodded. "She's had a rough week."

Azriel opened the door, closing it behind him when he found the mortal who haunted his every waking moment curled in a ball on her bed. Crying. Lost someone. The shadow he had trailing her told him. Little one.

Azriel sat on her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kaylee." She was instantly in his arms, crying harder as he held her against him. He adjusted slightly so she'd be in his lap, then pulled the box out and set it on her night stand. "It's okay, honeybee."

"It's not fair," and Azriel knew it wasn't. The shadow had finished filling him in. "He didn't even have a chance." He shushed her softly, pulling her in tighter. "It's just not fair."

"I know, Kaylee. I know. The loss of a babe is never fair, nor easy." They held each other in silence until her sobs became soft sniffles. Asleep. Likes to cuddle with the otter on the corner of the bed. We snuggle it every night. Azriel could have laughed at his shadows' confession. He laid Kaylee down, tucking her into the bed and handing her the otter. He watched as the shadow he had unknowingly lost to her weaved between her fingers and almost nestled into her. Ours, it whispered.

He kissed her lips gently and whispered a goodbye to her, leaving a quickly scribbled note with the box.

His fourth visit wasn't fun, nor did it allow him much time with her. He watched as Nesta fixed Kaylee's long soft waves, dissatisfied with the looks of her youngest sister.

They all had told the sisters how beautiful they looked, only for Nesta to back hand the compliment to Kaylee. "Had someone been home earlier, she'd look better."

There's nothing fucking wrong with her, Rhysand growled into the link he, Cassian, and Azriel were sharing. What is Nesta's fucking problem with her younger siblings?

From what my shadows caught, Kaylee did not get home until almost an hour ago. Something happened last night and she was pulled from bed.

That explains the medicine smell on her skin still. Cassian said softly. I think she looks fine. She looks extra glowy in that shade of blue, wouldn't you say, Azriel?

Ah yes, Rhysand said. With that clearly fae made jewelry. Admit you're courting her, Brother. We do not care..

Azriel slammed them out, moving to Kaylee as Nesta tried to force her younger sister to let her tie her hair up in braids. "Enough. She looks fine." He pulled Kaylee back to the wall by him and Cassian. They shared a silent look between them. He smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, exposing the sapphire earrings he had purchased her.

Kaylee whispered quietly, "They're late." Cassian shrugged, trying to hide his annoyance. Kaylee jumped as a male suddenly appeared before her, guards and the queens winnowing in. Her hand had grabbed Azriel's, and he had protectively pulled the youngest sister behind him, almost handing her to Cassian with a growl. They did not get to kiss goodbye on that visit. An action Azriel would fly back soon to fix.

He had flown back a week later, sneaking into her room using the balcony door, and waited for her on her bed. He had not noticed her bathroom light was on. he was just anxiously waiting, mind in his own world. "Oh Gods! Azriel! You have to stop sneaking up on me." His gaze shot up and instantly widened.

Kaylee was standing there in her towel. Her long legs exposed to him, her upper chest exposed to him. "I-" he shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it and looked away.

"Is everything okay?" Kaylee moved closer to him until she was right in front of him. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes locked on her toned thighs. "You are naked."

"Do fae not bathe naked? You all just leave your clothing on? Are you all ever naked?" He smirked at the question and bit at the bait she had tossed out.

"I'm naked when I bathe, Kaylee. I spend a lot of time naked actually." She hummed softly, tucking the end of her towel into itself. "Everything is fine, by the way. I just had a night off and thought I'd spend it seeing you." Kaylee nodded and smiled. "I figured we could maybe talk, or-" he trailed off, eyes on her legs again.

"Ooooor?" He shook his head. "Or what, Azriel?"

He swallowed again. "I will be honest. I forgot every idea I had once I realized you were naked."

Kaylee was debating something. Finally making her choice she dropped the towel, crawling into his lap, bare to him. "Does my nakedness bother you?" Azriel groaned, instantly switching their positions so she was below him.

He growled at her slightly parted lips before diving into them and kissing her deeply. His hands began to roam, going up from her waist to her breasts and squeezing the tender flesh. He devoured her moans, groaning in response as her legs fell wider apart to allow him more space. He moved his lips from hers, kissing down her neck, then biting into the pulse point softly.

Kaylee was responsive to him, to his every touch, lick, and kiss. He felt as if he were a sex God at how the littlest things he did seemed to be magic to her. "You are so beautiful. You know that?" He whispered into her ear before lightly biting it. She doesn't, the shadow said. She doesn't believe you. Azriel lifted her from the bed, pulling them in front of her full length floor mirror and stationed himself behind her. He continued kissing her neck and shoulders, hands playing with her nipples as she turned to hide her face in his neck.

Her skin was on fire with every touch of his hands, only to be instantly cooled by his shadows. "So fucking beautiful," Azriel groaned into her neck. "Look at yourself in the mirror and say you're beautiful."

His hands roamed lower and lower, finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake as he continued to kiss her neck. "Az-"

"I gave you an order, little one," he bit harshly at her pulse point, soaking in her gasp and moan. "I expect you to follow it."

Kaylee's eyes rolled back as she moaned again. "Look in the mirror and say you are beautiful." Kaylee pulled back from him slightly, holding eye contact with him before realizing he was serious. "Do it or I stop. I will leave you here wet and alone, Kaylee. I only play with good girls."

She whimpered softly. His hand came up to grip her jaw, turning her face to look into the mirror. He had her spread out to him, his other large hand splayed on her lower stomach and public mound. "How can you see this beautiful body, those eyes, those legs, every fucking day and not realize how beautiful you are? Say. It."

Kaylee swallowed thickly as he watched her. "I'm beautiful," Azriel's hand on her chin moved to her throat, gripping gently. His other hand moved lower again, cupping her sex as he groaned at the feeling of her dripping for him.

"Again." He commanded.

"I'm beautiful," a single finger moved through her folds, gathering wetness.

"Again, honeybee."

"I'm beautiful." Azriel pushed his finger into her tight entrance, rewarding her obedience. "Fuck, Az." He slowly pulled it out, pushing it back in again. Watching her watch him.

"Look at how pretty you look right now with your cunt swallowing my finger." She blushed instantly at his words, moaning as he curled the digit into a spot she had never found before. "Such a pretty cunt, Kaylee." He slipped a second finger in, the stretch almost burning as Kaylee moaned. "Has anyone else played with you, beautiful? Or is this tight little hole all mine?" He knew immediately based on the blush and smirked. "Say red if you want to stop at any point, baby."

His fingers began moving inside of her as he continued to force her to watch. He was opening and closing them like scissors, curling them into that spot teasingly, pulling them out just to push them back in so slowly. "You smell so fucking divine, baby. I bet you taste like heaven." He growled in her ear as she tried to look at him. He ripped his fingers from her, smacking her soaked cunt lightly. He delighted in the squeal that left her throat followed by a whine. "Eyes stay on the mirror." He pushed his fingers back in, palm grazing the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. "Follow my rules and I will reward you, Kaylee. Break them and I will have to teach you some lessons. Am I understood?"

"Yes," she nodded as best she could with the hand still holding her throat.

"Yes sir," he corrected her.

"Yes sir." He nodded and began to pleasure her again, shadows moving in play with her peaked nipples. A heat Kaylee had rarely experienced in her self exploration began to build in her stomach. A coil was tightening and building quickly as she moaned more and more. Azriel was smirking watching her, feeling her walls fluttering around his fingers. "Az," she lost her thoughts as he put pressure on her clit again.

"I know, Kaylee. I can tell. Do you want to cum? Want to soak my hand like a good girl?" She began nodding eagerly. "Do you deserve to?"

"Yes sir." She answered instantly. A smile bloomed on his face. "Please?"

"Tell me why you deserve to cum."

"Because I was good, and I listened-" She moaned loudly as his fingers began constantly curling into that spot, his palm constantly running over her clit. "Sir. Please."

"Tell me one last time what I want to hear."

"I'm beautiful."

"Yes you are, baby. Cum for me." Kaylee finished stunningly. Her back arching slightly as her hips began to ride his hand. Her lips parted in a silent scream as that coil snapped. Azriel watched in bliss, eyes wide as hers squeezed shut and her cunt pulsed around his fingers, soaking them like he had predicted.

He slowed his movements, riding her high out gently as he whispered praise in her ear. He slowly removed his fingers from her but forced her to watch him in the mirror again. He put them in his mouth, the feral being inside of him growling at the taste of her pleasure and essence. He sucked and licked his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with her. "Heaven." He confirmed before turning her in his arms. "You taste like heaven."

She fell asleep in his arms that night, his naked body pressed tight against hers. She had stopped before it went too far, wanting to wait to cross that line fully once they had looked into fae and human couplings more. Azriel had played with her hair before falling asleep as well.

He had relectantly drug himself out of her bed, only waking her to kiss her goodbye as the sun began to rise.

The next visit was silent and tense. "How long has she been missing?" Cassian asked softly. "When was she last seen?"

Elain shook her head. "She was at the healing house. They said a man came, asking for her specifically by name and claiming his son had fallen ill. Kaylee is known for her work with children. She hasn't been seen since."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right. We got that. How long ago was it?" Feyre was holding Azriel's hand tightly as the male tried to school his expression and breath.

"About two weeks ago." Nesta finally answered.

"Our sister has been gone for two weeks, and you haven't looked for her?"

"It wouldn't be the firs-" Cassian cut Nesta off with a single hand raised to her.

"I do not want to hear your excuses. Az?"

"I will find her." The shadow singer said softly. "She should have one shadow with her. If it hasn't come back to me-" His jaw tightened. The sentence didn't need to be finished as he and Rhys made eye contact and the high lord nodded. It was clear to all of the fae in the room. Kaylee was alive, but possibly in danger.

Somewhere in Hybern, Kaylee pulled her knees to her chest as she sat locked in a dark cell. Fae males were guarding her as she sniffled and cried for what felt like the 1000th time today.

She had been forced to bathe and dine with a king. One who whispered in her ear what he planned to do to her, to her sisters, before hurting her, using her, laughing while she cried and a human male watched.

Kaylee watched from the corner of her eye as the little shadow that followed her returned with more. One tried to approach the cell before falling still on the ground and regrouping to join the other ones.

She was losing hope. Hope that Rhys could hear her as she screamed for him mentally. Hope that Feyre would come save her. Losing hope that anyone could come save her. Kaylee fiddled with the chain of her necklace as she cried harder. Help me, she pleaded mentally to anyone listening. Someone please help me.

—---------

Kaylee didn't bother fighting the guards pulling her into the throne room. She knew the pathway well at this point. Nesta was struggling, Elain was crying. Kaylee just walked, numb to all of it. Nesta and Elain were stopped at a certain point while Kaylee was dragged to the King of Hybern and forced to sit at his feet.

Rhys growled loudly at the sight of her. "What did you do to her?! Kaylee! Honey, look at me!" She refused to look at Rhysand, wrapping her hand around the King's calf and playing the part of the good little toy he had forced her to become.

"You and Kaylee have something in common now dear Rhysand. You're both little pleasure whores." The king tilted her jaw, eyes sparkling with the lifelessness he found in Kaylee's. "The only difference is my toy had to be broken into submission while you handed yours away freely."

He dropped her jaw and Kaylee zoned out, waiting for what she knew was coming, almost begging for it. She blocked out Elain's screams. She blocked out the panic as Nesta stayed in too long. She blocked out the image of Cassian reaching for her older sister despite being nearly unconscious.

"Put my pet in. I want to see if she's worth breeding once she is fae." A soft growl snapped Kaylee back to reality. She knew it was Azriel. She knew he was dying. She almost fought as the Hybern guards gripped her arms, but it all went limp as one realized what she was about to do and back handed her. "Evidently there is some fight left in her. No matter, that can be fixed."

Kaylee allowed them to drag and lift her. She heard Feyre scream as Rhys held her back. But all Kaylee felt was water and cold and pain.

—--------

Azriel woke up in his own bed, squeezing his eyes shut before his hands shot to his chest. "You're fully healed," a tired voice came from the corner as Rhysand stood. "You've been asleep for 3 days."

"Cassian-" Azriel began coughing and Rhysand handed him water.

"Asleep in his room. He's been awake off and on. His wings will be fine. Just a slow healing process." Rhysand sat on the edge of Azriel's bed. "Feyre is in Spring acting as a spy. She is okay." Rhysand handed Azriel broth, hoping to help him build strength. "Nesta and Elain are awake. Traumatized, but awake and alive." He watched as Rhysand swallowed thickly. "Kaylee hasn't woken up yet. She shows no signs of waking up anytime soon. Madja and her team are monitoring her day and night. I am going into her mind every so often looking for changes."

"Take me to her." Rhysand sighed heavily at the request. "Rhys. Take me to Kaylee. Please."

The high lord nodded. "They all have powers now, Az. We can't tell what they all are, but be aware, Kaylee's body is strumming with her magic. I don't know why or what she is, but she's dangerous, Az."

Azriel nodded, moving to stand and walk with Rhys. "Did Cassian?"

"The bond snapped for him the second he saw her. We were correct. Just like I have a feeling we're about to be again." He opened the door to the room next to Azriel's.

The brothers entered the room quietly and Azriel released a soft sob. Kaylee was asleep, hair spread out on the pillow as she took deep breaths. Azriel knew what Rhysand meant immediately. Her power was intoxicating, all consuming. His eyes flicked to the birds and other animals watching from the ledge of her balcony. He shot Rhysand a questioning look, and the High Lord shrugged.

Azriel began to note the changes in her. Her ears had changed shape, her limbs slightly longer, cheekbones higher. He fixed her necklace, and removed her earrings gently. Azriel took her small hand in his, ignoring the strumming glittering bond that snapped the second he touched her.

Rhys paused as he studied the light of it. "Azriel, did you two?"

"Not to the full extent, no." His brother was stroking her head. "We played. That's it." Rhys nodded. Grabbing two chairs so they could sit with her.

He was in Kaylee's mind. She was dreaming about walking through the woods and countless animals and lesser fae. Her mind showed no signs of waking her anytime soon. "I have Amren looking into her dream symbolism and her sudden new furry and feathery friends, we have guesses, but-"

"All we can do is wait?" Azriel's voice was desperate as he kissed Kaylee's cold fingers.

"Correct. All we can do is wait."

[violetasteracademic]

I hate the when fans mischaracterize Elain as someone who is "weak and useless" when she's been someone who's always been brave and resourceful but it was hidden because her role as the marriage cattle was just to be pretty . I'd like to know your thoughts on this topic

Hi anon!

Oh my gosh, I love this question SO much and really appreciate you sending this! I have actually been mentally organizing some thoughts on the topic for a while, and this is the perfect opportunity to address them.

To take in a complete view of Elain, her role in the marriage market, the Inner Circle, and the role her specific brand of grooming will likely play in her future and book, I have found it fascinating to take a birds eye view of the grooming done to all of the Archeron sisters at the behest of Mama Archeron. The details of the roles and dynamics of each sister has played a huge role story-wise, plot-wise, and even romance-wise. I have no doubt the same will prove true for Elain, and in my opinion we have already seen what Elain's particular skillset is and how she can use it, despite the horrendous and unloving conditions in which she and her sisters developed them and the general lack of the fandom acknowledging them.

For Feyre, her theme is "bearing the burden," and she shares it with Rhys. I think of Clarke's "I bear it, so they don't have to" stance on leadership. Mamma Archeron gave the orders for Feyre to take care of her family (who knows why, jfc Mamma Archeron) and it influenced her skill-wise and psychologically. However, one of the most powerful and significant moments came into play when Feyre had to use her tracking abilities to find Rhys after he had been shot through with arrows and taken by Hybern. She single handedly saved the most powerful High Lord of Prythian and impacted the future of the world because she was able to track him. Romantically, their story moved forward after that show of her skillset, and the discovery of their mating bond came soon after.

Nesta of course, turned ballrooms into battlefields. She was her mother's creature. Thematically, she shares this with Cassian. While of course trope wise they are black cat and golden retriever and we love to simp over Himbo Cassian, he is a brilliant strategist and commander. They are the strategizers and the bulldozers. They enact physical and psychological warfare. I loved the scene when Cassian gifted Nesta the book The Dance of the Battle, and Nesta discovered how much she and Cassian actually could understand each other, and how similar their thought processes were:

And that little easter egg- the dance of the battle, Nesta would use her training and dancing to enact finding allies amongst the enemies with her dance with Eris... I mean. Chills. And of course, her dance with Eris and offer of marriage played a role in the convo when Nesta and Cassian's mating bond snapped:

Ultimately, Nesta was taught to use marriage as a weapon. And her court would have secured a powerful ally if she had married Eris. But love will never take a back seat. She both used her grooming, but also overcame it and moved beyond it. The grooming informs them, but no longer controls them.

Now, I love all the Archeron sisters, but let's put RESPECT on Elain's name. Elain provides what we call invisible labor. She was taught to do a *lot* more than just sit and look pretty. She takes charge. She organizes and executes and is action forward. She was just taught to do it privately. Elain shows her strength behind closed doors. Of course, being an Elriel, I believe she and Azriel are tied together thematically as well. Their work and labor for their court is done in secret, in the shadows. She showed us this in her first scene returning back to the page in ACOMAF:

Elain takes control of the entire situation and lays out the plan on how to keep the secret of using the Archeron manor as the meeting place with the human queens to move the war and search for the Book of Breathings forward. She manages the house, the servants. She will step up and do what needs to be done, and she understands how to keep things behind the scenes.

She stabs the King of Hybern in the neck by sneaking up on him, stepping out of the shadows.

She surprises everyone on Solstice, privately working with healers and local vendors to provide the most thoughtful gifts for her family and friends:

We see in ACOWAR how she already had plans to run and organize Lord Nolan and Grayson's manor, adding a woman's touch to it, but she also possessed all of the details of their defenses and war -readiness, things that were likely not expected of her, nor did Grayson likely even realize she knew or understood:

Again, Elain is the one organizing and executing this plan. Glamoring Elain, bringing the other Fae to hide and obscure her scent, protecting the humans behind Grayson's barricade, all her ideas. She is smart. She is always aware of her surroundings. Time and time again, Sarah has shown us on page through her writing that Feyre and Nesta both misunderstood Elain. That they didn't realize that Elain saw and understood everything:

Elain is the queen of invisible work. Of silent labor. She was groomed to run and organize a household, but stay quiet and in the background.

Elain is not, and has never been, useless. She has been smart, she has been brave, she has calculated moves that have saved lives. She does not cower. She does not hide.

But secrecy is her theme. Working in the shadows, in the background. Laying invisible ground work.

She doesn't have to prove her value in her book. She already is valuable. But we will come to understand how she was shaped by her grooming. And I believe there is very good reason to assume the themes of that grooming will play a huge role in her story and romance, as her sisters before her.

I have no doubt she will blow everyone away with her bravery, her intelligence, and stealth. And I for one cannot WAIT for it. If people want to continue to discredit and devalue her, it is frankly their loss. We already know who Elain Archeron is and what she can do.

[lovemyromance]

i just dont think elriel would work because they're to similar to Feysand. Even their light and dark aesthetic is basically a worse version of feysand. whenever i look at elriel fanarts, while they are beautiful, I have to do a double take half the time becuase I think its feysand.

I'm going to hold your hand as I tell you this but:

Feyre and Elain are *gasp* sisters.

Rhys & Azriel, while not biological brothers, are both Illyrian so they share a lot of the same features and are described similarly.

Of course they look similar? The only reason people probably don't confuse Nessian fanart as well is because 1) Nesta is always shown and described with a bitchy expression and with her hair up 2) Cassian has longer hair

Appearance-wise, they all look pretty similar.

I would also argue that I don't think Feysand is similar to Elriel beyond physical appearance (loosely). The entire dynamic of Feysand was more similar to Nessian because they were both kind of enemies to lovers. There was fighting and banter and playfulness with Feysand.

Elriel has always been soft love. The kind of love you can feel within a charged glance or a hitched breath. It's not in your face. Elain & Azriel both seek peace and quiet and they find it in each other. I'm sure they will also have moments of banter and teasing, but it won't be the main dynamic of their relationship. I don't think they are anything like Feysand or Nessian.

The similarities start and end with: an Archeron sister and Bat Boy

[bloodofthefates]

x. [ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " you don't need to say anything. just nod if you want me to kick them out, okay? " ( for feyre ) from @siphonedshadow

There was no humor to be found in the Shadowsinger’s expression, his soft words dripping with equal exhaustion and sarcasm as he addressed his High Lady. Feyre recognized that his protectiveness was likely more for the sake of her sanity above all else, Ariel being the one member of the inner circle to understand more than anyone the need for peace and quiet. The raucous laughter and incessant chatter coming from the rather overcrowded living room was no place for an expectant mother in need of rest and Azriel had taken on his guard duties rather seriously since the announcement of Feyre’s pregnancy. Even with the intention of building the river house as their dream home with enough capacity to host all of their friends and family, it didn’t stop Cassian’s booming laughter from carrying or even Amren’s snippy commentary trying to be heard over the others assembled casually sprawled across various pieces of furniture. Feyre briefly recalled the powder for headaches that Elain had gifted the Spymaster for solstice the previous year and wondered if Madja would approve given her current condition. 

“Thanks Az, but that won’t be necessary.” Words could never thank him enough for all that he’s done for her, for her sisters, her mate and now her unborn child but the smile she conveys is reserved only for him; her expression one of conspiratorial mirth and gratefulness for him and his infinite patience and understanding that was truly his gift above all else as she places a gentle hand to his forearm to give it an affectionate squeeze.  “Consider yourself off duty for the night. Maybe I can just sneak away upstairs and no one will notice.” They both knew that was the furthest thing from the truth, everyone had grown so overly attentive to her every movement and expression with the announcement of the baby and even Rhys was trying to reign in his overprotectiveness over her by her own demand by threat of pain and punishment. Not that it seemed to serve as much of a deterrent for him. Bastard.

[fauxdette]

In celebration of The Wedding chapter 2 being done, here is chapter 1 for my non-AO3-users:

The Wedding

Chapter 1: Hot Weather Girl

•••

“Elain!”

There was a split second between the shout and when Feyre’s arms landed around her older sister’s neck. Elain laughed as they embraced.

“It’s been too long.”

“I know.”

“An entire year!”

Elain laughed again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She meant it.

Feyre shook her head as she pulled back. “I just missed you, that’s all. And watching the news every evening doesn’t count!”

“You watch my weather report every evening?”

Her sister grinned. “It’s become a bit of a tradition, actually. And you have no idea how many people are impressed to learn the ‘hot weather girl’ is my sister.”

Elain scowled. “I hate that nickname.”

“I know. But you are hot. And a weather girl.”

“I have an environmental science degree.”

They linked arms as they started walking toward the house.

“Yes. And many evening news watchers are finally discovering what I have known my whole life.”

“Which is?”

“That you, Elain Archeron, are smart and beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“The hottest of weather girls.”

That made them both laugh.

“Well, you are glowing,” Elain said, running her hand over Feyre’s rounded belly.

“That is partially because of this little one, and partially because, well…” Feyre gestured to the villa before them, which had appeared as they rounded the corner—a maze of terracotta stone and white-fenced balconies.

“…because your husband has a villa in the Greek Islands?”

Feyre shrugged. “Speaking of Rhys, he has been so overbearing lately. He won’t even let me in the studio anymore! He thinks my paints could be toxic to the baby! I’m hoping your presence might calm him down a little.”

“How so?”

“Well, Nesta has been acting kind of intense , and when she heard about the paint issue…”

“…oh god…”

“…I know. But she’s really stressed with the planning, and obviously Rhys is really stressed about the baby, so they aren’t acting like the best of friends at the moment.”

Elain tried to hide her smile. “That doesn’t sound too different from how they usually act.”

“Usually, they have a few more buffers between them. That’s where you come in. Cassian tries his best to keep the peace, but unfortunately, our bone-headed partners are as bad as each other.”

“And it’s just been the four of you for an entire week?”

“Not quite… Emerie and Gwyn arrived a few days ago, and Mor, of course, but they’re all staying at Mor’s house down the road.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “It’s okay though; like I said, now that you and Az are here, we can return to our functional, well-buffered dynamic.”

Elain’s mouth went dry.

“What?”

“What, what?”

“You said Az…”

“…oh right, I forgot to tell you! Rhys arranged it as a surprise for Cassian. He flew all the way to Italy to track Azriel down and make sure he made it for the big day. To be honest, I think he was annoyed at first. I mean… I’m sure you already know how busy he’s been with this big case…”

“Not really.”

“���but no one has seen him since our wedding.”

Elain turned to face her sister fully. “No one has seen him in a year?!”

Feyre’s brows furrowed. “I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that?”

“I just thought he would’ve told you.”

She forced herself to breathe slowly, even as the heat of anger simmered under her skin.

“No, I— I haven’t heard from him.”

“That’s strange.”

“Is it?” She couldn’t hide the bite in her words, which instantly made her feel guilty. It wasn’t Feyre’s fault.

“Are you feeling alright? Of course, it’s strange; you two are so close. I thought if he was in touch with anyone, it had to be you. Remember how he had all that spyware added to your phone so you could contact him while he was working? Anyway, the case sounded very hush-hush—rich client, big secrets vibes—so I guess he’s just been off the radar. I’m not even sure how Rhys found him, to be honest.”

But Elain had stopped listening. Instead, a low buzzing sounded in her ears, which seemed to grow louder as four figures descended the front stairs toward them.

Rhys was out front, looking handsome and refined in a loose linen shirt and striped shorts.

“Elain,” he said, planting quick kisses on each side of her face. “Was your flight okay?”

He draped an arm around his wife as he waited for her answer. Feyre beamed up at him, stroking her belly.

“It was fine, thank you.”

The truth was, in that moment, she couldn’t remember how she’d even gotten to the island, let alone how the alleged flight had been. Thankfully, she didn’t have to elaborate as Cassian reached her. His own linen shirt, darker in color, was only buttoned at his navel, revealing the muscled skin of his chest; which she was promptly crushed against as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug.

“Hi, Cass,” she managed to mumble as he swung her from side to side.

“Hi, Lainey.”

“Would you put my sister down, you ginormous oaf?”

Immediately, she was placed in front of Nesta, who clasped her face in both hands. Even with the ringing in her ears, Elain couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi, bride-to-be.”

“Hi, hot weather girl.”

“I have a degree in environmental science!”

Nesta laughed but didn’t let go of her.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. I heard you’ve been bullying Rhys.”

“Hardly. I’ve been toning it down because I like his fancy Grecian home so much.”

“It is very fancy, isn’t it?”

“The perfect place to get married, I’ve been told.”

“Well, you would know.”

She smiled again, holding the gaze of those Archeron blue eyes—eyes that had skipped her entirely but felt as familiar as her own all the same.

Then Nesta looked behind her, to the fourth figure who had intentionally held back. Even from afar, Elain had recognized him; but at least at that distance she was outside the magnetic field that seemed to draw them together. From this proximity, however, it was a different story. She was close enough to see every streak of green in his hazel eyes. Close enough that the smell of ice and pine enveloped her as he stepped forward.

“Elain.”

Close enough that every thought in her mind eddied out and was replaced by a single memory—a memory of scarred hands stroking her neck and warm lips pressed against her skin. Of her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. And Elain knew she was completely and irrevocably fucked.

“Hi, Azriel.”

[hrizantemy]

Feyre Archeron is a complex character in A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR), especially when it comes to the dynamics of power and how she wields it differently depending on who she’s interacting with. When it comes to her sisters, Feyre displays a certain comfort in exerting control over them—making decisions on their behalf, often without their input. However, when it comes to the Inner Circle (IC), her approach is much more hands-off, and she often emphasizes their bond as friends rather than asserting any authority over them. This contrast reveals some troubling inconsistencies in her character, which warrant further exploration.

Power over her sisters

From the moment Feyre becomes High Lady, we see her holding a significant amount of power over her sisters, Nesta and Elain. Feyre’s attitude toward her sisters is often tinged with an uncomfortable willingness to violate their autonomy, especially when it comes to the use of her powers or Rhysand’s. Throughout A Court of Mist and Fury and A Court of Wings and Ruin, Feyre frequently contemplates going into her sisters’ minds or letting Rhysand do so in order to force them to comply with her wishes. This becomes particularly troubling as it reveals how easily Feyre is willing to use—or at least consider using—her position of power to control those closest to her.

Later on, in A Court of Frost and Starlight and A Court of Silver Flames, Feyre exerts even more direct control over Nesta. Instead of offering support or understanding, she forces Nesta to go to the House of Wind and start training, under the guise of helping her heal. Nesta is given little agency, and Feyre dismisses her sister’s autonomy in a way she never would with the IC. Feyre’s actions here suggest she’s comfortable holding power over her sisters when she deems it necessary, using their well-being as justification for her actions. Yet, it’s clear that this forceful approach often does more harm than good.

Reluctance to hold power over the IC

In stark contrast, when it comes to the Inner Circle, Feyre is adamant about not asserting power over them. She often talks about their friendship and her respect for their choices, despite being their High Lady and, in theory, having the authority to lead. This reluctance is especially evident when it comes to Rhysand, Mor, Cassian, and Azriel. She defers to Rhysand’s decisions and avoids challenging the group dynamic, even when it might be in her best interest to do so.

For instance, rather than confronting or holding accountable those who kept her in the dark about the significant risks of her pregnancy—choices that were made without her knowledge and had serious consequences for her life and future—Instead of addressing the people who withheld such vital information, she directs it towards Nesta, punishing her for revealing the truth.

This response not only deflects blame from those responsible but also reinforces a cycle where honesty from those outside the Inner Circle is met with hostility, rather than the support or understanding it deserves. Feyre frequently frames her lack of intervention as respect for her friends’ autonomy, but this mindset comes across as inconsistent, given how comfortable she is intervening in her sisters’ lives.

The Double Standard

This double standard in Feyre’s treatment of her sisters versus the Inner Circle highlights a major flaw in her character. On one hand, Feyre is willing to force her sisters into difficult situations, making decisions on their behalf without fully considering their feelings or autonomy. On the other hand, she’s unwilling to assert herself when it comes to her friends in the Inner Circle, even though she’s in a position of power and could challenge them when necessary. This difference raises the question: why does Feyre feel more comfortable controlling her sisters than holding the IC accountable?

One possible explanation is that Feyre feels an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility for her sisters, especially after their shared traumatic experiences. She might believe that because she failed to protect them in the past, she must now control their futures to ensure their safety and well-being. However, this misguided sense of protection strips them of their autonomy, especially in the case of Nesta, who is constantly infantilized and silenced.

In contrast, Feyre views the IC as equals, or perhaps even superiors in some ways, especially given her deep admiration for Rhysand. This leads her to place herself in a subordinate role in that dynamic, unwilling to challenge or question them, no matter the consequences. Her desire for their approval and the comfort of friendship outweighs her willingness to confront them or wield her power as High Lady.

Conclusion

Feyre’s contrasting treatment of her sisters versus the Inner Circle speaks to a deeper inconsistency in her character when it comes to power and control. She’s comfortable wielding authority over her sisters, forcing them into situations for what she believes is their own good, yet she refuses to assert any power over her friends, claiming that they are equals. This dynamic reveals an uneven approach to leadership and relationships, where her protective instincts toward her sisters manifest as control, while her loyalty to the IC manifests as passivity. This raises important questions about Feyre’s understanding of power, friendship, and family—and whether she truly knows how to balance these complex relationships.

[shadowqueenjude]

Hi!! read some of the beaf that you had with some anons and honestly, i can kinda agree and kinda not agree.

(Let me first establish that I don't write lucien but if someone wants to diss him i will throw hands)

Okay, Azriel: Azriel's character and morals on a whole are questionable and not that great and a lot of shit that he's done especially with Elain is not...ugh just not it. Which is honestly why 70% of fanfiction I write is just ignoring canon or using his shitty character to create angst. He's hot, and the main reason I like him is because he's willing to risk his life for people he cares about. Does that excuse him from being biased and favouritism towards his brothers and Feyre? no. That's where delulu comes in and I erase that part of his character from my mind. So Azriel is the kind of character where since he does not exist I choose the parts of him I want to acknowledge and which parts I don't want to. Also, yeah, Elain should not be with him that dynamic is just...no.

Rhysand: I understand anti-rhysand just as much as I understand pro-rhysand. Both don't make sense to me, tbh i kinda ignored his existence his death did not affect me whatsoever and neither did his revival.

Cassian: He's...interesting. See I like the parts of his character where he's a goofy and funny dude but where it starts going downhill is he does his job with no questions asked and the way he treated Nesta is an ick. I'd like to be his bestfriend when it comes to his blatant sense of humour (not including when he pushed Nesta cause that's just plain messed up) but I would not want to be his lover. Not for a billion years.

In conclusion, get rid of Rhysand, teach Azriel and Cassian to have a backbone (or at least more of one), teach them how to have a guilty conscience, and also we need an Eris POV because I need to start justifying why I love Eris so much T^T My fics are honestly always reader leaves Azriel for Eris.

It's the Fae world. Everyone is "hot" so Azriel being "good looking" doesn't mean shit to me. If you mean his personality being hot? He has no personality aside from being delusional and crazy. Cassian I was cool with mostly until ACOSF. UGH I hate that SJM did that to Cassian because she wanted Nesta to wind up part of the Inner Circle. Rhysand? He's a dick in every sense of the word. The only way Cassian and Azriel could redeem themselves to me is if they destroyed Rhysand and his shoddy system, treat the Archerons right, and bow down to the king Lucien. For fuck's sake it's impossible to find a character who hasn't done Lucien dirty. Except maybe Tarquin or whatever. As for daddy Eris, this man could make Azzy PAY for how he treated Lulu. Lucien is too nice to do it himself. But Eris has no such qualms. Lucien and Eris together have too much power, that's why SJM hasn't had them made up yet 🔥🔥🔥 Anyway, the bat boys should just drop dread and Lucien should become High King. Eris can be his right hand man. Elain can be his High Queen and Nesta can be Eris's wife. Tamlin gets on his knees for Lucien who forgives him and adopts him as his pet dog. Feyre can go to therapy sessions with Thesan.

[starsreminisce]

who do you think could be Elain's potential friends in the future books?

Hard to say because that's a part of SJM's writing where literally anything can happen, but my theory is that since this story is going to take a lot of pages from ACOMAF, there is a chance that we'd see other characters play similar roles as the Inner Circle did for Feyre while Elain processes her mating bond with Lucien.

Mor, I feel strongly, will play a huge part in it. Azriel has Great Gatsby'd her for 500 years, and we see that he was about to shift that focus to Elain. She's always been protective of Elain, and we do see her earnestly try to be friends with Feyre's sisters (say what you want about ACOSF, but at the end of the day, Mor was the one who taught Cassian how to dance to surprise Nesta, and Mor brought Nesta to Emerie no questions after her fight with Cassian and convinced Gwyn to leave the library so she could be there as well). I like to think that Elain will stand up for herself to Azriel after how he has coddled her, and that it'll spark something in Mor to finally speak up as well. Mor has shown to be very perceptive of Azriel's moods and acts with that in mind, so I would hope that seeing Elain would prompt her to do the same. Since Mor has been an Elucien shipper since day one by bringing Lucien to the townhouse, I think there will be a lot of self-reflection these two can offer each other. Mor helped Feyre recognize that being Rhys's mate wasn't that bad, and I can see her asking the same of Elain about Lucien.

Vassa would likely play the role of Amren. I mean, both of them turned into something else that acts as a trump card with a promise of being turned back, and they both exhibit a take-no-crap attitude that offers self-confidence while exhibiting tough love. Amren's motives have been pulled back, leading people to theorize that she's the betrayer, and I see Vassa doing the same thing.

Jurian will play the role of Azriel, where a lot of his history and background is kept vague but traumatic, serving as a basis for his character with a unique sort of relationship with Mor while he looks at a female longingly but doesn't want to make a move until he's sure it'll happen. Feyre had always shown some sort of apprehensiveness towards Azriel. Honestly, considering how much Feyre thought about Azriel's hands, I wonder if Elain would keep wondering how Jurian lived all those centuries as an eye.

Tamlin, funny enough, will play the role of Cassian, but their dynamic would be switched up. Cassian helped Feyre process a lot of her feelings through action, and I think Elain would be instrumental in bringing Tamlin back to the High Lord he was. Elain possesses understanding, and she has benefited the most from Tamlin's generosity when he took Feyre away, so I hope she can bring that perspective to him, especially when Tamlin shows he reveres humans and Papa Archie is a testament to that resilience. I also think that we will see more insight into his parents' bond and offer reflection for Elain, since theirs was also considered ill-matched.

Eris would probably act more like Tarquin, and Elain can see what Eris is trying to do for the sake of his court. Nuan can be like Cresseida if she and Lucien are as close as they are.

And, though not strictly ACOMAF, I do see a mirroring of Elain getting closer to Helion and LoA as Lucien did to Papa Archeron. Helion could provide Elain with insight into how a rejected male feels, bringing an understanding of what Lucien will go through if she were to reject the bond, as LoA on how she navigates through it.

That's my initial thoughts, but like I said, friendships are important to SJM's characters. Emerie was introduced in ACOSAF, and Gwyn a book later, so we might get some fresh characters as well.