#Azriel x Archeron sibling

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Shadows of Secrets

Summary: 

Y/N Archeron, gifted with invisibility, secretly listens in on the Night Court’s plans against Hybern to prove her worth. When she goes missing during the battle, Azriel must find her amid the chaos, leading to a moment of vulnerability and a deepening bond between them.

Word Count: 2306

Warnings: None 

The shadows were her refuge. Y/N Archeron, the youngest of the Archeron sisters, had been given the gift—or curse—of invisibility when she emerged from the Cauldron. While her sisters had received powers that they wore like armor, Y/N’s ability was more elusive, more secretive. She could vanish from sight, slip through the cracks, and listen to secrets meant to be kept hidden.

Growing up, Y/N often felt like the forgotten sister. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain were always busy, strong, and capable, while Y/N, being the youngest, was often overlooked. She had been too young to contribute meaningfully to the family’s struggles, and that feeling of uselessness had stayed with her. But tonight, she was determined to change that. The Night Court was planning their next move against Hybern, and she needed to know how she could help. This was her chance to prove herself.

Slipping into the war room undetected, she positioned herself in a corner, her body fading from view. The room was dimly lit, a large map spread across the table in the center. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel stood around it, their expressions grim as they discussed strategies and battle plans.

“We need to strike quickly and decisively,” Rhysand was saying, his voice filled with authority. “Hybern’s forces are on the move, and we can’t afford any mistakes.”

Cassian nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. “Our spies have confirmed their movements. We have a narrow window to catch them off guard.”

Azriel, silent and brooding, stood slightly apart from the others, his shadows whispering around him. As Y/N watched, she felt a strange connection to those shadows, as if they were aware of her presence.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting as he listened to the murmurs of his shadows. He knew someone was there, but he said nothing, continuing to discuss plans with Rhysand and Cassian. The meeting dragged on, with detailed discussions and strategic planning. Y/N strained to catch every word, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear.

Finally, Rhysand and Cassian concluded the meeting, their expressions resolute. “We’ll meet again tomorrow to finalize the details,” Rhysand said, rolling up the map. “Get some rest.”

As the others left the room, Azriel lingered, his shadows swirling more restlessly around him. Y/N remained invisible, hoping to slip out unnoticed. But as the door closed behind Rhysand and Cassian, Azriel spoke, his voice cold and commanding.

“Show yourself.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She hesitated, but the shadows around her seemed to tighten, pulling her toward visibility. Slowly, she let her invisibility fade, revealing herself in the corner of the room.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

She straightened, meeting his gaze with determination. “I wanted to help. I’ve been listening, learning. I want to fight with you against Hybern.”

Azriel’s expression hardened. “Spying on us isn’t the way to do that.”

“I wasn’t spying,” Y/N protested, her voice rising. “I was trying to understand how I can help.”

Azriel took a step closer, his shadows swirling around her menacingly. “You could have been caught. You could have been killed. Do you understand how reckless that was?”

Y/N stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. “I know the risks, Azriel. I’m not a child. I can handle myself.”

Azriel’s gaze softened slightly, but his voice remained stern. “You should have come to us directly. Spying, even with good intentions, undermines trust.”

Y/N’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I didn’t want my sisters to know. They have enough to worry about.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, the shadows around him calming. “We all have our burdens, Y/N. But secrets like this can get you killed. You’re part of this court, and that means you don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. “I want to prove myself, Azriel. I want to show that I can be useful, that I can fight.”

Azriel nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting a mix of respect and concern. “Then we’ll train you, get you ready for what’s to come. But no more secrets.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. “No more secrets.”

Azriel stepped back, his expression thoughtful. “You have potential, Y/N. But you need to trust us. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Y/N said softly, meeting his gaze. “And I’ll prove it.”

As the night wore on, Y/N felt a strange sense of belonging. She was no longer the invisible sister, hiding in the shadows. She was part of the Night Court now, ready to fight alongside them.

And as Azriel’s shadows curled around her, whispering their secrets, she knew that she had found her place. In the heart of the battle, in the midst of the danger, she would stand with them. She would fight for her family, for her home, and for the shadows that had claimed her as their own.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of training and preparation. Azriel took Y/N under his wing, teaching her the art of stealth and shadow manipulation. Their sessions were intense but rewarding, and Y/N quickly found herself improving. She learned how to move silently, how to blend into her surroundings, and how to use her invisibility to her advantage.

Azriel’s shadows became a constant presence, swirling around them as they trained. They seemed to take a liking to Y/N, often lingering near her even after their sessions ended. She found herself growing fond of the shadows, speaking to them in the same way Azriel did. They responded to her, their whispers soft and affectionate.

One evening, as they finished a particularly grueling training session, Azriel noticed the way his shadows were behaving around Y/N. They twined around her like playful tendrils, almost like puppies seeking attention. He watched with a mix of amusement and curiosity as Y/N spoke to them, her voice soft and soothing.

“You’ve got a way with them,” Azriel remarked, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

Y/N smiled, gently patting one of the shadows. “They’re easier to talk to than most people. They listen.”

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. “They do seem to have taken a liking to you. It’s not something they do often.”

As they walked back to the House of Wind, the bond between them grew stronger. They shared stories, laughter, and moments of quiet understanding. Y/N began to see a different side of Azriel—one that was gentle, kind, and fiercely protective. And Azriel found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he hadn’t with anyone else.

One day, Feyre found Azriel alone in the library, his shadows dancing around him as he read a report. She approached him quietly, her expression serious.

“Azriel, can we talk?” Feyre asked, her voice soft but firm.

Azriel looked up, nodding. “Of course, Feyre. What’s on your mind?”

Feyre took a seat across from him, her eyes searching his. “It’s about Y/N. I’ve noticed how close you two have become. And I’ve seen the way your shadows follow her.”

Azriel’s gaze softened. “She’s special, Feyre. She has a gift with the shadows, and she’s become quite skilled. But more than that, she’s determined to prove herself.”

Feyre nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I’ve seen that. But she’s still my sister, Azriel. I worry about her, especially with the danger we’re facing.”

Azriel leaned forward, his voice earnest. “I understand your concern, Feyre. And I promise you, I’ll keep her safe. I care about her deeply. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Feyre’s eyes softened, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. “I know you will. Just... be careful. She’s been through so much already.”

Azriel nodded, a determined look in his eyes. “I will. You have my word.”

As the days passed, Y/N continued to train with Azriel, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment. The shadows seemed to sense their connection, often wrapping around Y/N protectively. She could communicate with them effortlessly, and they responded to her with a loyalty that mirrored their bond with Azriel.

One evening, as they stood on the balcony overlooking Velaris, Y/N turned to Azriel, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Azriel. For everything. I’ve never felt more capable, more... needed.”

Azriel smiled, his shadows swirling around them both. “You’ve always been capable, Y/N. You just needed the right opportunity to show it. And you’re more than needed—you’re invaluable.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she reached out to take his hand. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, and he squeezed her hand gently. “We’re a team, Y/N. And I’m proud to have you by my side.”

As they stood there, the bond between them stronger than ever, Y/N knew that she had found her place. In the heart of the battle, in the midst of the danger, she would stand with Azriel and the Night Court. She would fight for her family, for her home, and for the shadows that had claimed her as their own.

And as the stars twinkled above, she felt a sense of peace and purpose. With Azriel by her side, she knew they could face anything—together.

The day of the battle with Hybern had arrived. The air was thick with tension as the Night Court prepared for the confrontation. Feyre had insisted that Y/N stay behind with Elain, away from the front lines. Despite Y/N’s protests, Feyre’s concern for her youngest sister’s safety had won out.

As the armies clashed and the battle raged, Feyre's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. She trusted her sister's abilities, but the fear of losing her gnawed at her. When the battle finally ended, the field was littered with the bodies of fallen soldiers. As Feyre surveyed the battlefield, a sense of dread settled in her stomach.

“Where’s Y/N?” Feyre called out, her voice tinged with worry. She scanned the area, her heart pounding.

Elain, standing nearby, looked around with wide eyes. “She was with me... but then she disappeared. I thought she was just hiding.”

Panic surged through Feyre, and she immediately turned to Azriel, who was tending to some of the wounded. “Azriel, Y/N is missing. We need to find her.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and without a word, his shadows sprang into action, darting out in all directions to search for her. His heart raced with worry, but he forced himself to stay calm, knowing that he needed to find her quickly.

“Where is she?” Azriel muttered to himself, his shadows stretching out further. “Find her. Find Y/N.”

The shadows darted through the forest, guided by their connection to Y/N. They led Azriel to a secluded spot, deep within the woods. As he approached, he saw the aftermath of a fierce battle. Hybern soldiers lay scattered, their lifeless bodies a testament to a brutal fight.

In the center of the carnage, Y/N sat on the ground, her knees drawn to her chest. Her breathing was rapid, her eyes wide with panic. Azriel’s heart clenched at the sight of her distress.

“Y/N,” he called softly, approaching her with caution. “It’s me, Azriel. You’re safe now.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked up to him, her face pale and her hands trembling. “Azriel, I... I didn’t mean to...”

Azriel knelt beside her, his shadows wrapping around them both in a protective cocoon. “It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you had to do.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I killed them, Azriel. I killed so many.”

Azriel gently took her hands in his, his touch grounding her. “You were defending yourself. Defending us. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed.”

Y/N’s breathing hitched, and she clung to him as if he were her lifeline. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Azriel’s heart ached for her, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. “You’re safe now. I’m here. Just breathe with me.”

He guided her through slow, deep breaths, his voice soothing and steady. Gradually, her breathing began to calm, the panic in her eyes fading. She rested her head against his chest, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I couldn’t stay behind,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I needed to help.”

Azriel stroked her hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I know, Y/N. And you did help. You’re incredibly brave.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I just wanted to prove that I could make a difference.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, and he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears. “You’ve proven that and more. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re in this together.”

Y/N nodded, her grip on him tightening. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Azriel shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Just promise me you’ll let us know next time. We need you safe, Y/N.”

She managed a small smile in return. “I promise.”

As they sat there in the quiet forest, surrounded by the aftermath of battle, Azriel held Y/N close, his shadows enveloping them both. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to face any challenge.

And as the first rays of dawn broke through the trees, they rose together, hand in hand, ready to return to their family and continue the fight for their home. In each other, they had found strength, trust, and a bond that would carry them through whatever lay ahead.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

Word count: 2.11K

Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.

Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.

Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.

One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.

After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.

A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.

“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.

“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.

The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.

“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.

“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.

“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.

“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.

“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.

Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.

“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.

“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.

“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.

“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.

“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.

“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.

“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.

“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.

“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.

“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.

“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.

“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.

—-

Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…

As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.

At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.

Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.

“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.

“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.

“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.

“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.

“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.

“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.

The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still

“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.

Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.

“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.

“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.

“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.

“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.

“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.

“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.

“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.

“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.

—-

“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.

“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.

“I wanted to spend some time with you”

“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.

“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.

“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.

“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.

“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.

The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.

“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.

“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.

“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.

“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.

“Y/n” Nesta called.

“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.

“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.

“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.

—-

“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.

“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.

“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.

“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.

“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.

“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,

“It’s nothing”.

“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.

“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.

“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.

“Who attacked you?”.

“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.

To his surprise, she only nodded.

“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.

“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.

[sodapopwrites]

a ballad of flame and shadow part ten

pairings - azriel x rhysands!sister reader

summary- after hybern, she talks to her brother rhysand, who helps her come to terms with her feelings. and finally she faces azriel and faces what she really feels for azriel. maybe even accepting it.

word count - 1.5k

a/n - i let them be happy at the end guys! everybody cheer and clap or something. sometimes all you need to do is talk to your brother...or almost die. whatever. tomato tomato. also let me know if you guys think i should keep writing this series! I was gonna end it here...but if you want more of them...i might oblige.

read the rest of the series here!

She sat on the staircase. Unmoving. Refusing to wash his blood from her hands. She had pulled the arrow from his chest the second they slammed back into the townhouse. She had let a wave of anger crash over her. At the sight of Cassian’s mangled wings, at the hole in Azriel’s chest, at Feyre’s gaping absence. 

That kind of bond cannot be broken. 

Mor’s words. Refusing to believe that Hybern had been able to sever the mating bond between her brother and Feyre. She prayed it was true as she looked at her mate. As she looked at Azriel, unconscious and bleeding. She couldn’t lose it, not when she’d finally let it find her. 

The rage hit her first, at Rhysand’s admission floated through the house. His secret. 

Feyre Archeron. Feyre Cursebreaker. Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. 

And then that guilt hit her. That guilt that always plagued her. 

So she sat on the staircase. She hadn’t dared to let herself follow Azriel and Madja upstairs, letting Rhys accompany them instead. She couldn’t follow Cassian either. She couldn’t even look at him. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. My family broken and bleeding and it’s all my fault. 

She didn’t know how long she sat there. Barely blinking. Barely moving. Her eyes far away, still with the pool of blood on the floor of Hybern’s throne room. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

Rhysand padded his way down the hallway. He was exhausted and devastated, itching to race to Spring Court and take Feyre back home. But stopping himself. This was something his mate had to do. So instead he had busied himself with watching over the healing of his brothers. 

He had watched as Madja carefully pieced Cassian’s wings together. Promising him that he would heal. That it would take time, but he would heal. He had watched as the healer fused over Azriel. He didn’t know where his sister was. But he knew exactly how she was feeling. He had known her too long. There was one reason she wasn’t at her mate’s side and he knew it well. 

The siblings too alike for their own good. 

Azriel not awake to wash away her guilt. He sighed. He would have to do it. So he left the Shadowsinger’s room to find her. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

She hadn’t moved in hours. It was like she was glued to the step she perched on. 

Rhys took her in. Her blank expression. Azriel and Cassian’s blood coating her clothes, her face, her hands. He stood in front of her now, but she didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Fearing for the worst. She didn’t know if she could bear it. 

“He’s okay.” 

He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. 

Her brothers words thundered through her mind and she finally looked up at him, 

“How okay?” 

“He’ll make a full recovery. It’ll take some time. But he’ll be fine. Completely fine.” 

She nodded and looked down at her hands. Rubbing them together slightly, like the movement would cleanse them. 

“You should be with him when he wakes up.” 

“I can’t Rhys.” 

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He moved to sit next to her now, “Yes you can.” 

She shook her head. Not looking at him as he sat on the steps with her. Not wanting him to see the tears that now streamed down her face. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Let yourself believe that this was all your fault.” 

She laughed and sniffled, turning to face him. 

“I wasted years. Refusing to believe that it was real. Refusing to accept this” She motioned towards her chest. Like Rhysand would be able to see that golden thread now fully connecting his sister and his spymaster, “Thinking that it would be better. For everyone. Thinking that if I let myself have him….It would somehow be a detriment to everyone else.” 

She took a deep breath and continued, “I kept waiting. For the right time. For a moment of peace. Thinking that when everything was okay and everyone I care about was safe. That would be the perfect time to let it hit. To let it snap. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hold it in.” 

Rhysand spoke slowly, “You didn’t have to.” 

“Yes I did. Because I was right. I was right. I couldn’t accept it until he was dying. And look what we lost.” 

He whispered her name but she ignored it, pushing forward, 

“I couldn’t protect anyone. I couldn’t shield Cass. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Feyre. Because I was too distracted. Because all of my worst fears came true and I couldn’t feel anything except for  him slipping away from me the second I let myself have him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Rhysand gripped her shoulder as he said it. But it didn’t matter. 

“Yes it was.” 

“Not everything bad that happens is your fault. Cassian will heal. Azriel will heal. Feyre will come home when the time is right.” 

He moved his hand to her other shoulder, gripping them both now hard, forcing her to face him as he continued, 

“We took a hit today. But this guilt you’re feeling? That you always let consume you? It’s not your burden to bear alone. So go upstairs and be with him. Be with your mate.” 

She shook her head, “I can’t.” 

“You can and you will”

“Why should I?” 

“Because with everything going on. With the war we’re about to fight. With everything we’ve already lost, already suffered through…You deserve a little bit of relief. Let yourself be happy. Let yourself feel this…If not for yourself, for us, for your family, for Azriel.” 

She looked at her brother. Saw the guilt she carried reflecting in his eyes. Too alike for their own good. Too used to pushing away their own comfort for the sake of everyone else. But he had let himself fall in love. He had let himself accept what was offered to him, and it was what drove him forward. 

He moved to stand and walk away, but before leaving her to make a decision about whether or not she would go upstairs, he turned and said one last thing, 

“Letting yourself love someone is not a weakness. It makes you stronger. It’s what has kept this family together for so long. It’s what’s going to keep us together for much longer.” 

She hated that he was right. She hated that her brother always had to come to these realizations before her. Hated that he was always a step ahead of her growth wise. But he was right. She knew he was right. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

She stepped into the dim bedroom quietly. The curtains were drawn, a candle flickering softly, casting a golden light over Azriel. Who lay in the bed a couple feet away from her. He looked peaceful. Like maybe he wasn’t in too much pain. He looked like he was healing. 

Color had come back into his face. His hair fell over his forehead caressing his skin softly. The bandages wrapped around his chest were white and clean, blood was not seeping from him as it had been before. He was okay. 

She let herself draw nearer. Let herself perch on the side of the bed. Let herself brush the soft black curls away from his face. His lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes and when he saw her…he smiled. Like his injury was the last thing he was thinking about. Like the devastation of the day behind them was more bearable now that she was sitting in front of him. 

She sharply inhaled as his hazel eyes met hers. Trying to smile back at him, but not quite managing. 

His voice was raw and strained as he spoke, 

“You know…if I knew that getting myself almost killed would get you to accept the mating bond. I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

She let out a laugh. A real laugh, interrupted by the tears spilling from her eyes, a little unbelieving. But still a laugh, 

“Are you making a joke right now?” 

“Bad time?” 

He grinned at her and carefully moved to sit up, despite her protests. He raised a hand to the side of her face, and pulled it to his own, capturing her lips with his. 

When she pulled away she pressed his forehead to his and closed her eyes. His voice filling her ears, 

“Are you going to spend another five hundred years avoiding this? Or are you going to make it easier this time?” 

She snorted, “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?” 

He kissed her again and smiled against her lips, “I think you should let me love you.” 

She pulled away from him. Taking in his glittering eyes, the smile that played on his lips, the dark lashes lining his eyes, it was like she could see that golden thread circling around Azriel’s hazel irises. 

“You know I think so too.” 

Feyre’s return to the Spring Court. Hyberns building force. The war to come. 

They would handle it together. They would fight together, for their family, for their home, for each other. 

taglist:

@littlepippilongstocking @lilah-asteria @wrecklesssly @negomi123 @stqrgirlies-blog @mrsbarnes32557038

[shadowdarlings]

Blood Will Rain II

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis : After emerging victorious in the war with Hybern, you are learning to be a part of a family again. Your recovery after being captive is slow, but a certain shadowsinger makes it his responsibility to see that you get well again.

part one

Pairings : AzrielxReader , ReaderxInnerCircle!Platonic , ReaderxRhysand!Siblings

A/N : part two of idk. if you’d like to be tagged in any other series updates please comment!

Warnings : slight angst, mentions of captivity, az being sweetie pie hehe

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been weeks since you and your family had returned to the Night Court. After half a millennia you were thrilled to be back in the city of starlight. Velaris, your home, finally. You had taken up a semi-permanent residence in the House of Wind alongside Cassian and Azriel. Although the elation of returning woke something that had been long asleep within you, the scars of your captivity rang throughout your very bones. Rhysand made a habit of coming to check on you frequently. Sometimes under the guise of wanting to meet with his general or shadowsinger, but it was all to see you. You noted his efforts and appreciated his call to be your older brother, but you did not know how to be a sister anymore. You did not know how to be a friend. These titles had been forgotten, the only thing you knew how to do was be prisoner. You often caught yourself falling into old habits that had been developed during the 500 years you were Hybern’s pet. The chambers in which he kept you at the grey stone palace had changed throughout the years. The first 200 you spent confined to a small dungeon with little light or air. After much beguiling the King saw fit to move you into a room similar to what their servants were housed in. It was nothing compared to the space and lavishness of your quarters in the House.

This did not stop you from remaining mostly confined to that room. It was rare that you strode the halls or explored the libraries or training ring. Interactions with the rest of your brother’s court were kept short and polite. You did not want them to see that you now felt stranger to them, this world. Although you had grown up with the three Illyrian males they had become something you did not recognize. They too had gone through extensive changes during these years. Rhysand had become High Lord. Cassian a commanding General to the Night Court’s armies. Azriel had become something completely different than what you knew before. He was the same in some regards, still reserved and watchful, but his presence held a more powerful purpose than it did during those years in Illyria. These people were your family, yes, but they were also strangers. The Archeron sisters were also completely foreign to you. Feyre visited as Rhys did and made efforts to give you any comfort you requested. The other two sisters you hardly spoke to or saw at all. Strangers. They were all strangers. Except that this was their House, their family. There was a sickening realization that it was not them but you who was the stranger. So you kept to yourself, to your abominably large quarters, and to the small tasks you gave yourself each day.

You were up before dawn as you practiced each morning. The power that the Cauldron had bestowed on you was something that needed an outlet. These last hours of night were perfect, you would not disturb anyone as you released waves of magic. The stars winked at you from the lightening sky as you levitated each item in your room several inches then gently placed them back down. It was simple magic, not anything that could be used productively, but it was something to quell the ocean inside. One floor above you felt movement coming from Cassian’s rooms. The General was often awake early but typically not for at least another hour. The shock of it was enough that your bed landed with a dull thud instead of silent ease. Panic struck through you and it was an effort to control your breaths. “Relax,” you said to yourself, “he is not your enemy.” The footsteps and noises that came from the two Illyrians often sent your survival instincts into hyperdrive until you reminded yourself that they were not the guards. You were not prisoner. You were home. Loosing a calm breath you considered. His steps were no longer solitary but accompanied by a lighter pair, and they were making their way down to your floor. Then seconds later a soft knock sounded on the large wooden door to your sitting room just outside your sleeping quarters. You shouldered on the floor length robe that hung on your bedpost and pulled your midnight hair back from your face. Padding over gently you opened the door slightly to reveal a towering Azriel waiting to greet you.

“There’s breakfast,” he offered observing your entire figure. He seemed to note the thin sheen of sweat that adorned your forehead from your morning magic. He did not comment, but raised his palm slightly in invitation. “Let me change into something more appropriate and I’ll be ready,” you said assessing him in a similar manner. The shadowsinger was not in his usual Illyrian leathers, but instead he donned casual black pants and a loose fitting long black shirt. The swirls of ink on his chest peeking just above the neckline. Whispers of autumn were upon the northern territory, a slight chill had claimed the mornings while the sun still heated the afternoons. He bowed slightly, “Of course,” was all he said before you shut the door and turned to get yourself ready. The outfits you’d worn at the House had all been casual. Rhys did not deem it fit for you to take up any sort of fighting anytime soon, and you were inclined to agree with him. “Recovery,” is what he had said, “that is all I want you to focus on. If you need anything at all please let any one of us know.” You smiled slightly at the thought while pulling on a lightweight sweater that matched your violet eyes and a pair of black leggings accompanied by woolen socks. It had been longer than you could remember since such kindness had been extended to you. It was so foreign, but you welcomed it nonetheless. After tying your hair into a loose bun at the nape of your neck you strode to the double doors that entered the hallway. Upon opening them you were surprised to see Azriel still standing there waiting for you.

“You didn’t have to wait,” you said, willing the slight blush that threatened to climb up your cheeks to dissipate. “I know,” was all he said before gesturing towards the hall that led to the dining room. The two of you took the short walk in silence. Whether Azriel knew the silence was born by feeling like a stranger he did not let on, but silence with him felt different than with the others. With the rest of your family you were always searching for something to say, something to fill the emptiness that gave away your alienation from them. With Azriel the quiet did not seem so desperate. Perhaps it was just the nature of a shadowsinger, you thought.

The two of you entered into the grand dining room and the silence was broken by Cassian’s bellowing laughter and Mor’s palm thwacking against his bicep. Surely you did not want to know the words they had exchanged before your arrival. Rhysand and Feyre swooped into the main room not a second later, the two of them giving knowing glances as they strode in and joined the rabble. You were happy for your brother, and it was then you made a mental note to try and get to know his new mate better. When you halted a few feet from the group, Azriel stopped with you. Rhysand turned his attention from Feyre and his eyes landed on you and the towering Illyrian standing just to your side. “Good morning, Y/N. Good morning, Az,” he purred. Cassian and Mor paused their bickering to gaze over to you both as well. The sets of eyes that all laid upon you now had you toying with the sleeve of your sweater, but you simply replied “Good morning, everyone.” Feyre approached and wrapped her slender arms around your shoulders. “I hope you slept well,” she said pulling back after her short embrace. You nodded and plastered a cheery smile on your face. This was your family. They love you. “Good,” Rhysand stated, “because we have a long day ahead of us.” At your confused look Azriel leaned down to say gently “We’re going to celebrate your birthday.”

Taglist : @annamariereads16 @lilah-asteria @sidthedollface2 @todaywasafairytale07 @doodlebugg16-blog

[lyssasdrafts]

— AFTERGLOW (azriel x reader)

015: “ just wanna lift you up, not let you go. ”

masterlist previous next

‼️‼️ written portion below the cut ‼️‼️

you’d never felt more at peace.

you’re holding onto azriel’s back, your head laying on his shoulder as he starts up the motorcycle. he drives slowly at first, your heart beat suddenly beginning to race as he starts going at a faster speed, causing you to grip onto him tighter.

a smile passed your lips, though no one could see it since he’d insisted on you wearing his helmet. although the view goes by fast, you try to enjoy the scenery you pass by. nothing but the sound of his cycle and the wind, the lighting below the sunset, and that feeling of gratification within you. you could get used to this, you think to yourself.

he stops at a spot near the mountains, it’s a quiet place with no one else nearby. he helps you off his bike and the two of you find a bench to sit down on. it starts to get darker outside and you talk until the stars start to show themselves.

“so,” he smiles, “was the ride worth the hype?”

you admire the way his eyelashes fluttered in the moonlight. how the shine in his eyes reflects the stars above you. he’s beautiful, you think.

“yes! definitely,” you laugh, “thank you.” and maybe you were starting to fall in love with him, too.

the atmosphere is calm, so relaxing that you find yourself yawning and resting your head on his shoulder.

in your haze, you blurt out a question.

“azriel,” you say, no longer sounding as sleepy. he turns his head at you.

“why did you drop out?”

he stays quiet for a moment, was there something deeper there? you wait until he throws the question back at you, “well, i could ask why you chose to stay at velaris,” he chuckles.

you know that he was joking, but recently you’ve learnt that trust is a two way street. if you wanted him to talk to you about these things, he would appreciate you doing the same.

“honestly, i wouldn’t know where else to go,” you begin. “i’m mostly chose to go to velaris because that’s where nesta went. she’s basically my sister from another mother…”

“did you have anyone else?”

“other than her sisters and maybe lucien, no.” you shake your head. “we grew up together and they were all i had, i was… mostly alone as a kid.” you saw the way his demeanor shifted, something sparked in his eyes, signaling that the same thing resonated with him too. it was on the tip of his tongue, but he respectfully let you continue.

“i know that my mom loved me, but she was too focused on work. i was always over at the archeron household instead,” you smile, thinking of your childhood memories. “i admire her though, it probably wasn’t easy since… you know, my dad wasn’t there.” you chuckle thinking of the trouble you probably caused both your famillies.

“it must’ve been hard raising me while she worked on her corporate business. maybe people at school thought i was probably stuck up and well… i’m not really the easiest person to get closer with.” you lift your gaze from the ground to look at azriel, listening attentively. you give him a smile and a content look, telling him that it’s okay now.

it’s okay because i have you now.

“anyways, it’s your turn,” you chuckle, “what about you?”

azriel hesitates before he looks you in the eyes and realizes it’s okay. “i had a single mom too, y/n. and i didn’t really have any siblings either, i’m an only child. i guess we have that in common.” he tries to force a smile at the thought.

you nod, “you have step-siblings, right?”

“yes, but they’re—” azriel is interrupted by his phone ringing, the bright lockscreen causing a strain to your eyes under this lighting. you don’t see the contact name, but you see him visibly tense up after reading it. though he’s still at a loss for words, he picks up the call, getting up to be a few feet away from you, just out of your earshot.

you’d never seen him as upset as he was during that entire phone call, he mutters a “i’ll get back to you,” before putting it on hold and walking over to you.

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

— NOTES

hearing more about y/n’s backstory and perspective… hopefully we’ll get azriel’s too

spoiler: i think y/n might be in love too 🫶

who do you think called azriel?? 👀👀 you and cassian both tried reaching him before cassian got rhys to call him

— TAGLIST

@ithan-holstroms-girl @strangelycami @fell-in-luvs @goldenmagnolias @glam-targaryen @acourtofdreamsandshadows @bloombb @mp-littlebit @gamarancianne @stqrgirlies-blog @peachcontour-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @chessebookgirl @fairywriter-oracle @thelov3lybookworm @corvusmorte @evergreenlark @marina468 @405rry @azrielsmate3 taglist is open!! lmk if you want to be added

[greycloudsinwinter]

Hi I wanted to request yandere platonic inner circle from ACOTAR x gender neutral reader who is the sister/brother of the archeron sisters who was also thrown in the cauldron and turned it fea but smiler to Nesta he/she also got powers like having the ability to rewrite reality like Wanda from Marvel and you could also make one of the inner circle a romantic yandere mate to reader maybe Azriel if you want or any other. I hope it’s not to specific loved your cassian headcanons. 🫂😍❤️

YANDERE PLATONIC INNER CIRCLE X GENDER NEUTRAL READER

YANDERE AZRIEL X READER

🌌you were the sibling of the archon sisters and it was tough to be in there shadow. Especially in making friends your power some what scared people .it didn’t help how protective your sisters were especially elain.

🌌everyone treated you with respect and kindness however you were lonely only ever having your sisters who would fight over who got to spend time with you. Even though there mates became jealous how much time they spent around you they didn’t care because you were there sibling there family.

🌌freyer usually showed you all her paintings befor anyone else and most of them had you in them.

🌌nesta preferred to gossip with you about how annoying everyone is .

🌌elain liked it when you helped her with the garden.

🌌they all had a neutral understanding that you were perfect . When they became mates they encouraged there other half’s to get to know you .

🌌rhysand was the first to come around and agree with his mate that you were the perfect little sister. In away you reminded him of his sister so he became increasingly worried about your safety. That’s why the servants spoke only few words to you.

🌌cassian was reluctant in getting to know you . He was a jealous man to say the least he worshipped the ground nesta walked on and all she did was seek your comfort. He understood that you are her younger sibling but he still hates how much time she spent with you. When he got too know you better (which took 6 months) he realised how extraordinary you were and became devoted to your safety.

🌌mor instantly became friends with you once you came to live under the mountain. She enjoyed telling you secrets of others even though she promised those people she wouldn’t tell a soul . That’s how important you are to her.

🌌azriel was heartbroken after elain found out lucien was her mate and not him. He became depressed and felt his self esteem become lesser then it already was .

🌌but then you showed up , you were shaking like a leaf when you arrived. Clearly traumatised but slowly ever so slowly you came out of your shell . Often spending your nights talking with him under the stars.

🌌when the news goes to the inner circle you and azriel are spending more and more time together. They encourage it they know they can’t keep you from falling in love with somebody so azriel is the perfect solution. He would protect you for life . They knew that. Everyone knew that.

🌌so he became obsessed and devoted completely to you .

🌌he does random acts of service . You hungry? Don’t worry azriel will get you food ! You tired ? Azriel has you in his arms flying you to you bed.

🌌if anyone and I mean ANYONE threatens you he won’t hesitate to kill them . And no one can stop him anyway . After all the inner circle came to an agreement that azriel was perfect for you .

🌌if you try to escape your being dragged back and locked in your room for weeks until you are on your knees begging to be let out for a few minutes.

🌌overall try and stay away from them ALL they believe they have the best intentions for you but in reality it’s a toxic smothering that you can’t escape .

🌌azriel is an delusional and emotionally unstable yandere

Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️

[acourtofbooksandinsanity]

this is long but js bare with me please. i had this idea for an azriel x reader but this could be paired w anyone. so the reader is an archeron sibling. shes nesta’s twin and when they get Made in the cauldron they both take something from it. Nesta taking the power of Death and the reader taking Life. the reader logically id say is like the opposite of Nesta. She’s just so joyful, happy and fun to be around, probably had the most to lose in the transition from mortal to high fae and when she switches to fae life she adapts fairly quickly (or so it seems). id also like to add that nesta is really protective of her probably more so than she is of elain. the reader has a talent for music and loves to sing, through which she expresses her actual feelings for being Made (i was kinda thinking my tears ricochet would be perfect especially the line “i can go anywhere i want anywhere i want just not home”) so she just kinda plays the piano and sings to herself about these feelings until one day when azriel hears a melody coming from a particular room of the house and hears the reader singing. idk if this is goofy but since i cant write (or maybe i can i just havent tried it) if any writers are interested in writing about this id love to see ittt and if u do please tag mee💗💗

[lucysstoryworld]

Lease of Life | Azriel x Reader Part 4

I'm back :) I didn't intend on taking such a long break, but life just gets in the way and I just couldn't even open my laptop. If I have forgotten to add you to the tag list, just let me know!

She was back. Standing there in front of you, in one piece. She was back. You could think about the male standing next to her later, you just needed to take in every detail of Feyre so you could confirm that she was, in fact, okay.

Yet, looming in her gaze was a haunted look. Like there was something grave crawling beneath her skin. While she looked relieved to be reunited with Rhysand, hugging him dearly and bringing her lips to his gently, you could tell something was not quite right with your sister. That feeling sent the power within you writhing. Instinct. That was what Rhys had told you. The power mainly comes from instinct. Most fae children learn to control it as they grow, but obviously you had to learn. As if sensing the spike in energy, Rhys looked toward you, “Feyre, darling. Someone has been quite anxiously waiting for your return,” He spoke, guiding his mate’s gaze to your own.

“(F/n),” She breathed, her eyes scanning over your body. You realised then and there that she had never seen you like this. Healthy. Feyre approached you, placing her hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Quite the change from the withering little girl in the cottage, right?” You stated awkwardly. All of the inner circle’s eyes were on you.

“Oh sweetheart,” She whispered, tears lining her tired eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You did not feel okay. And for that, you felt ungrateful. The first time you had felt okay since your world was tipped off balance was just moments ago when Azriel had allowed you that brief moment of calm. You leaned in to Feyre, taking her face into your hands, rubbing your thumbs over the purple underscoring her eyes. “How about you, Fey?” You whispered, leaning your forehead against her own, “You don’t look okay.”

“Where’s Nesta and Elain?” She said, sucking in a harsh breath and standing straight. Classic Archeron tactic.

Avoid, avoid, avoid.

There was a pregnant silence following the High Lady’s question, no one knowing exactly how to explain her siblings’ current states. It was then that Rhysand took Feyre by the arm and lead her to a couch. Slowly, he explained Elain’s catatonic state. You watched with keen eyes as her demeanour changed, concern filling her body as she began to fidget with her hands. And Nesta. It only got worse when they began to explain Nesta’s seemingly contradictory response to becoming ‘one of you’ as she had put it, Rhys explained.

“I want to see them both.” Not a question, a statement.

You decided to hang back and allow Feyre to have a moment with your sisters alone. Quite frankly, you could not muster the strength to go and watch how utterly miserable Feyre would be when she set her eyes on Elain. Or listen to the snide remarks Nesta was sure to hurl at her. No, you definitely could not watch that. Not after the last time Nesta grated on your nerves. Certainly not a good idea since that feeling that something was definitely wrong with Feyre had set that whirring in your veins alight.

It was as though that moment of reprieve you had felt not even thirty minutes previous hadn’t happened. The sounds of the floorboards creaking ever so slightly from the level above sent painful sparks down your spine. Each spark almost urging you toward Feyre and demand what was wrong. Yet, you remained seated. The feeling was similar to that you felt the day you tried to hurt Nesta and you would not allow yourself near any of them. Slowly, you lifted yourself from the couch, and quietly prowled to your room. That was where you were the least likely to hurt anyone by sending a tirade of glass and wood.

Reaching the safety net that was your bedroom felt like a chore, the power bubbling more and more as your mind entertained the idea of destroying anything and anyone that had left Feyre looking so… ghostly. When you finally closed the door behind you, it all came to a head. A burst of energy exploded from you and shredded everything in your vicinity. Wood splintered, books flittered, fabric torn. You were glad that Rhys had placed a silencing ward around your room.

Heaved breaths left your body from the unsolicited exertion. Hands shook as you lowered yourself to your knees and desperately tried to clean the mess you created.

Pathetic.

Tears of defeat streamed down your face as you took in the carnage you had released. You wanted to be able to support your sisters, like they had done for you in your times of need albeit in their own ways. Instead, you were falling apart at the idea that Feyre had been hurt. The sobs turned into wails as realisation set in.

You had not changed.

Yes, your body had changed. But you had not changed. You were still the same weak, sad little girl who could not do anything for herself, let alone for others. Feyre had always been strong. Nesta had always been fiercely protective and Elain had always been wildly supportive.

You had never given yourself the chance to be any of that.

And for that, you were being punished. The Cauldron had noticed it and decided you were to be punished for being weak. To have a constant reminder that you were never in control.

“(F/n)?” A voice called, pulling your focus to reality. Azriel. A gentle knock sounded from the door. “(F/n). Feyre is looking for you.”

Panic washed through your veins as you scrambled to wipe away the tears from your cheeks. Slowly, you opened the door a crack. Just wide enough to make eye contact and hide the disaster you created in the room. “I’ll be there in a moment,” You replied, willing your voice to sound strong.

Azriel’s eye scanned down your body, aware that you had just been crying. “You doing okay?”

Such a loaded, yet easy question. That alone triggered more tears to leak down your eyes. Your voice rippling, “Uh yeah. Just uh...” You whispered, looking up as if it would make the crying cease, “Just overwhelmed. I’ll be out soon, I just need a moment.”

Not a very convincing answer, you knew. But you hoped the Spymaster would catch on and leave you be. “I can get Feyre to come to you, if you would prefer to stay in here,” He replied, his voice gentle as if you were about to shatter in front of him.

“No!” You did not want Feyre to see what you had done and know that you were as weak as the day she left. Your sudden response had Azriel’s eyes narrowing slightly, “No, sorry. I just want some time alone to collect myself… I’ll just be out soon, okay?” If the gods were listening, they would let this be the end of the conversation.

“What’s going on?” He pried, not satisfied with your act.

Clearly, the gods weren’t listening.

“Nothing, Azriel. Just leave me be,” You snapped. Guilt soon washed over you, Azriel did not deserve that.

Though your anger set Azriel aback, he did not relent, “Open your door,” He demanded, knowing that you were hiding something. And if he had read your mood correctly when you had been reunited with Feyre, then he was sure it wasn’t good.

It was the first time you had seen Azriel’s assertive side. The side in which you were sure was what he used when conducting his spy business. The Shadowsinger. It left no room for argument or discussion. However, it did not intimidate you in the way you were sure it intimidated his victims. Because there was concern weaved through his tone.

Not finding it within yourself to refuse, you stepped back from the door and allowed him to push the door open and observe the carnage. Every hair on your body stood on end as you watched his eyes scan what was left of the room. Humiliation followed next. What would he think of you now? A sad, angry girl who could not contain her emotions long enough to deal with them appropriately.

“Are you okay?” He questioned again, eyes meeting your own.

You weren’t sure if it was you or how he asked simple questions but once again, a cascade of emotions flushed over you and sobs began to wrack your body. This time, Azriel approached you and wrapped his arms around you. The warmth of his embrace and tightness of his grip made you feel safe enough to let go completely. Burying your head in his chest, you weeped harder than you ever had before, blubbering about the mess you had created. And he listened. Stroking your hair, he listened to you wail about how you couldn’t control yourself and ‘it just happened.’

“It’s okay,” He cooed quietly, massaging your scalp slightly. “We will get this sorted. It was just an accident.”

Looking up into his beautiful golden eyes, with tears still leaking from your own, “Please don’t tell the others. I don’t want them to know that I can’t control myself.”

“What about your room?” He asked, wondering how you expected to not tell anyone about the room that was in tatters around you. Azriel watched as you seemed to scramble for excuses you could make up about the room. He watched as the fact of not being able to explain it away dawned on you. “How about I tell Rhysand and Feyre and I will make sure they don’t breathe a word of it to you or the others?”

While it was unlikely that Feyre would let this go, it calmed you. You did not want to talk about it and not being the one to tell them that you destroyed your room felt like a weight had been lifted. “You would do that for me?”

“I will do that for you, sweetheart,” He answered without hesitation. “Now, how about you go to Feyre now and I will get Rhys to do his weird magic fixing thing on your room. I will tell him to tell Feyre later.” You let out a small chuckle at his little joke.

Opening your mouth to thank him, he raised his hand, “Don’t thank me. This is what we do for each other here. Friends help each other.”

With a gentle smile, you left the room while your crush on Azriel grew yet seemed so far.

Friends. That was all you were to him. All you would ever be.

And that was okay, you guessed.

***

“And how have you been settling in to life as far?” Feyre asked cautiously, having filled the previous conversation with light banter before now. You paused, caught in a mental dispute over whether you should lie and let Feyre settle in after being away for what seemed like quite a taxing few weeks or being honest and adding to her ever-growing list of worries. “You know… it’s okay if you’re not finding it easy. When I was turned, I barely ate, barely slept and broke nearly all the doors in the spring court.”

“How did you manage to bounce back?” Hope bloomed in your chest that she would have a secret solution to all the problems you were facing.

“I nearly didn’t,” Feyre sighed, eyes looking beyond as if she could see the shadow of her previous self sitting in front of her. Her eyes met yours once again, “But, I was rescued by Mor and brought here to the Night Court. Rhys and the others were patient with me. Encouraged me to work through the trauma I had lived in both Under the Mountain and in the Spring Court after. It wasn’t easy, but if it weren’t for everyone living under this roof I wouldn’t have made it.”

Disappointment flooded your stomach at the realisation there was no easy fix to it. Feyre eyed you, clearly waiting for your input. A shaky exhale breezed through your lips, “I just want it to be okay now.”

“Tell me more about what you’re feeling.”

“I… I hate all of this. I just feel like the old me is living in a new body. Like everything that I wanted to change about myself is the same. I’m still weak, I’m still incapable of caring for myself properly. I feel so useless… I guess this change has made me realise there’s a lot I don’t like about myself and I don’t know how to fix it,” You admitted, shame dusting a deep red across your cheeks as you laid yourself bare to your sister.

“For one, you’re not useless. You never have been,” Was the quick response you were not expecting. Sensing that you were confused by her answer, Feyre continued, “You were always my rock when we were living in the cottage, you know. Not because you were sick and needed me, but because you always did what you could for me. And that is the quality about you that stopped us starving back then. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the energy to continue fighting for us like I had. Before all of this happened,” She gestured to herself and her surroundings, “My biggest dream was to gather enough money to have better home for you, me and father. Nesta and Elain would be married happily and I would care for you properly, I would be able to paint every day and dad would… do whatever it dad does,” She giggled at you.

Smiling in amusement, you countered, “But then you began dreaming of the stars.”

“And then I began dreaming of the stars,” She repeated, a fond smile on her face and twinkling in her eyes. “I know this isn’t an easy transition, I wish I could have protected you from what happened. But I need you to know that I am here for you. For whatever you need. And the others are as well.”

“I know,” You whispered, pink dusting your cheeks at how Azriel had helped you so far.

Feyre was sure to have noticed your blushing, yet she did not mention it, “I know it is unfamiliar to you, but perhaps you could start training with Cassian or Azriel. I found it to be a life saver when I was adjusting. Just a suggestion though, we can explore other ways to make this easier on you.”

“I’ll have a think on it,” You said. Thoughts still on the Shadowsinger, you looked at Feyre with a sudden seriousness. “Is there one of those sound charms on this room?”

Feyre looked at your warily, before replying, “There is now. What is it?”

“Please don’t tell Rhysand this,” You began, sheepishness taking hold. With a nod from your elder sister, you continued, “I… I uh… I have come to realise that I know nothing about being with men… males… and I want to… y’know… be better at talking to one I like.” Gods above, you wished you never started this topic of conversation when you saw the wolfish grin that stretched across Feyre’s lips.

“Go on,” She encouraged.

“It’s just… I have a small crush and I’m fairly sure he just sees me as a friend but I was wondering how I talk to him enough to know for sure,” You wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

“Well, I wouldn’t be quick to make assumptions. But for now, just continue whatever you have going on with him for now. I want you to focus on yourself first, you don’t need to be heartbroken while also trying to make this transition. Trust me, I’ve been there. Not a good look,” She answered seriously. Feyre, the ever fierce protector. "But, in a few weeks, we can revisit and see where you're at and see how this 'small crush' is developing," She giggled.

* * *

Some hours later, you had built up enough courage to revisit the site of your destruction. As if Fate was looking down upon you, Rhys also happened to be walking from your room toward the living room. A charming smile stretches across his lips, nothing but kindness emanating from him. Your steps slowed, waiting for the humiliating moment where he would start discussing the way you ransacked your room. Steps went from slow to a complete halt as your stomach fluttered uncomfortably. Yet, Rhysand continued his stride.

All he did was send you a wink as he passed you by.

Tag List:

@rebs2210 @meritxellao @blueeclipsepaperstudent @fredssweasleys @pricklepearbloom @emptyporsche @the-fae-are-taking-over @kuraikei @garbagecryptid98 @weirdo-fun @balam-sen @judig92 @ruler-of-hades @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @kexrtiz @marina468 @edie-readie @baebeepeach @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @percyjacksonspeen @issybee0611 @hanatsuki-hime @honeyrydernot @buckysimp101 @t0uch-starved-h0e @inpraizeof @bsenpai-blog @alainabooks143 @xreaderbooksreads @theravenphoenix26 @feyres-fireheart @highlyselectiveextrovert @illyrian-dreamer @fall-myriad @introvertsuntes68-blog @highlady-ofillyria @azzydaddy @fan-of-many-bands @tcris2020 @cmay25 @fussel9913 @adultseatdinonuggets4dinner @brekkershadowsinger @i-am-fascinated

[munsons-hellfire]

My Love Will Never Die: Prologue

SUMMARY: Circe Archeron is faced with the tragedy of losing her cousin when a faerie arrives at their home demanding to know who had killed the wolf.

PAIRINGS: Azriel x Circe Archeron x Eris Vanserra

CONTENT WARNING: None really, at least I don't think.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello and welcome to the prologue of My Love Will Never Die. I have had this idea for a while. There will be two other characters that will be introduced in this series. The first chapter will take place in A Court of Mist and Fury. I hope you enjoy this! Also I decided to write this in first person pov instead of 3rd person. If you'd like to be added to a taglist for this series let me know in the comments.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

My Love Will Never Die Masterlist

Snow and ice crusted the earth below. But it didn’t matter to me, I stood tall in the snow covered trees. My dirty-blonde hair was pulled back and braided so it would be out of my way. I jumped from tree to tree, Feyre was always jealous of the fact that I had an easy time hiding in the trees. I had always felt this heavy weight on my back, and because of it I had learned to balance myself especially in trees.

They became my friends. Odd, I know, but totally worth it when we’d go out hunting. That’s what my cousin and I had been doing, hunting for food in this brisk winter. I could feel the cold running along my skin. I had been living with the Archeron sisters since shortly before they had to leave the luxurious home behind and move into a smaller home. I didn’t understand why my parents had dropped me off with my cousins, all I know is they’re hiding something from me. One day I’ll figure it out. But today I’m hunting in the woods.

Feyre and I had separated from each other hours ago. We’d hoped that by doing so we’d gain more distance to find something to eat. But so far I had no such luck, I was secretly hoping that Feyre had gained the luck today. Feyre and I had started to go out into the woods to hunt for food when we were fourteen. Her reasoning was a promise she’d made to her mother, mine was mostly because I didn’t like to be alone with Nesta and Elain when Feyre wasn’t there.

Our relationship was strained. Nesta hated me, I don’t know why. I guess she blames me for moving in, because soon after they could no longer afford anything. I’m not sure honestly, she doesn’t ever give me an answer whenever I question her, whenever I ask her the same question. She just lets it fuss out like it's nothing important and honestly I’ve given up trying to figure out why she hates me. Feyre and I are now nineteen, it’s crazy, I know but what more can I do in this life.

Most of the things I know how to do I managed to teach myself, reading is one of those things. I’m not as skilled in reading but I can get by somewhat. It’s not important right now anyway. I’ve tried to help Feyre but I don’t really know what I’m doing. Feyre has become my best friend, she’s more of a sister than a cousin. And I so badly wished to have had that sibling connection with her that Nesta and Elain have with her but seem to not care much about.

I shake my head, easily getting lost in my thoughts these days when I’m alone in the woods. I gripped the bark tightly, small scratches littered my palms. I tend to get my hands cut a lot when I’d climb up into the trees. Feyre always had something to say about it and I know she’ll most likely say something about it when she sees my hands. Sometimes I like to feel pain, and the only healthy way is to climb trees. I adjust myself trying to ignore the heavy weight on my back.

I knew at this point without having any luck it was time to call quits and head home. I was hoping that Feyre had already made it back to the small house. I lunge off the branch I was hanging out on, I grip onto the next branch holding it tightly as I swing back and forth. The slight pain in my hands is evident. Finally I’m able to let go of the branch and land on the icy ground. The ice crunches beneath my boot covered feet.

I pull my dagger from my holster, it’s not much but it’s kept me safe over the years since I’ve started hunting. I lower myself into a crouching position and release a breath. My breath mixes with the cold air causing it to turn into a mist. Just to be safe I always stay low to the ground to make sure I’m not caught as I walk back home to the house where Nesta, Elain and my Uncle are. All of whom probably aren’t doing anything.

An hour later I had given up on the crouching, but I’d made it home. The dagger is back in the sheath. I don’t need Nesta and Elain to know I have it. One day I’d found it near the border that separates us from the Faeries, it was calling to me. Odd. It was so odd that a dagger was calling my name. But I found it and since then it has been with me. Finally reaching the door I pushed it open and walked inside.

A soft grunt leaves my throat as I enter the house. The house had a small amount of warmth, I could feel it but it was barely there. Not that I mind, I preferred the cold anyway. At least that’s what I tell myself. My ocean blue eyes land on my Uncle and cousins all of whom are close to each other.

“Where’s Feyre?” Nesta questioned, not bothering to give me another glance.

“Like you care.” I mumbled the words as I removed my cloak from my body. It didn’t do much to keep me warm during the winter but it was better than nothing. “She’s probably still hunting, I didn;t have any luck but I’m hoping that Feyre found something.” I said that loud enough that all three could hear me. Nesta didn’t budge, nor did Elain. I walked past them making my way into our small shared room. Sometimes I wish I could sleep on the floor in the winter. I hate sharing a room with my cousins. Feyre not so much because she didn’t hate me.

I closed the door behind me once I was in the room. I needed to change into warmer, dry clothes. I tracked towards the dresser and kneeled down to stare at the painting Feyre had drawn on my drawer. I had the same recording dream, it was always blurry so I couldn’t make out much. But I got enough from the dream. I had asked Feyre one day to paint hazel and amber eyes, mixed with bat wings, shadows and flames. I could never really understand why I had seen those images so constantly in my dreams but I wanted to be able to see them no matter the time of day.

Feyre had even questioned me about it when she was painting it, but I just didn’t know how to answer it other than the fact that I had seen everything when I was asleep. I didn’t know who the eyes belonged to but I knew one day that I’d figure it out eventually. I knew whomever the eyes belonged to they would most likely be important to me. After pulling on a warm set of clothes I heard the front door open, followed by Feyre’s voice and shortly after Nesta’s voice.

“Where did you get that?” Nesta had asked, as I rejoined them. I glanced over at Feyre as she looked at me. Over the years Feyre and I had developed a secret sort of communication and were able to talk with each other via expressions. Feyre was asking for my help without actually saying something. I moved from my spot walking over to her.

“Where do you think I got it?” Feyre questioned back, her voice hoarse.

I looked over at Nesta and my Uncle, they were by the hearth warming their hands. I had noticed Elain but gave her no mind just like she did to me. I watched closely as Feyre removed a wolf pelt from the doe she had collected. Then she turned and took her boots off placing them by the door. Feyre turned back towards Elain and myself, she glanced at her second oldest sister before her eyes fell onto me.

“Will it take you long to clean it?” Elain had asked simply.

I took note of the question, it was directed towards me and Feyre. We were the only ones who truly knew how to clean an animal. It wasn’t a hard task to learn, all things considered. I released a huff and glided towards the doe. I paid no mind to the conversation going on currently. At some point Feyre had joined me and we began working together.

“Are you going to come with us to the market tomorrow?” I lifted my eyes at the question Feyre had asked. Then briefly I looked over at Nesta and Elain.

“I think I’ll stay here if that’s all right.” For some reason my voice was soft as I answered Feyre’s question. Feyre only gave a nod and the conversation dropped there. Eventually night fell and we were stuffed in the bed. I was exhausted from today’s adventure and ready for bed.

☾

I had spent most of the day with my Uncle though he hadn’t made much of an effort to talk to me. So I ended up in the trees. When I didn’t want to talk to anyone this is where I’d come. I’d pick a tree, climb it and sit on the branch. Sometimes I’d stay resting on the tree well past sunset to watch the stars shine brightly in the sky. This was my safe heaven and I didn’t know what I’d do without this. Feyre stood down below staring up at me.

“Come on, food’s ready.” She said my cousin was never happy that I could climb the trees. She also didn’t understand why I did it. In a sense I guess I needed to be closer to the stars or the sun or maybe the clouds. I never really knew, it was always a guessing game with my feelings. “When will you stop climbing into trees?”

I shrugged my shoulders, attempting to move the weight on my back. It always felt like something was dragging against the ground. I didn’t understand it, I had hoped to one day reunite with my parents and ask them why it felt that way on my back. I hadn’t seen them since they dropped me off at my cousins, so I guess I would never really get my answers. I looked back at Feyre realizing that she was still waiting for me to answer her question, the one I hadn’t answered yet.

“Never. It’s my safe haven away from Nesta, Elain and Uncle.” I finally answered the question as Feyre and I started walking back towards the home.

“Just don’t hurt yourself. I can’t lose my best friend.” Feyre looked at me. Her blue-green eyes blazing brightly. We entered the house, finally we were all sitting down and eating the deer. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to whatever conversation they were having. I would take small bites of my food to savor it, and in between I’d play with it until I decided to take another bite. A roar so loud I had to cover my ears brought me out of my thoughts.

Hesitantly I reached for my dagger, but didn’t make a move to pull it out of its sheath. Nesta and Elain were screaming, snow burst into the room we were in as the door opened and a growling figure appeared in our line of sight. I was so confused as to what was going on but finally I pulled the dagger out of my hands and moved in front of Nesta and Elain. The dagger was in front of me as I looked up at the beast. My heartbeat was beating so fast, I couldn’t seem to calm it down.

“MURDERERS!” Its voice was rough as it looked around the room. My breath caught in my throat as I glanced over at Feyre. We both knew what this was. Faerie. I couldn’t believe there was a Fae in our home. Who was it and what did they want? Those were the only questions that seemed to be running through my mind. “MURDERERS!” It roared again.

“P-please,” I could hear my Uncle’s voice from somewhere in the room. I couldn’t look away from the beast to figure out where his voice was coming from. “Whatever we have done, we did so unknowingly, and—”

“W-w-we didn’t kill anyone.” Nesta added, choking on the sobs that left her lips. I briefly pulled my eyes away from the beast and saw her holding the iron bracket over her head. I guess she hoped it would protect her from the monster at our front door.

“Get out,” Feyre snapped at the beast, she held a dinner knife in front of her. I shifted slightly and caught the eyes of the beast. It looked at me, then it seemed to halt its movements. It sensed something on me, I could tell. “Get out, and begone.” Feyre added. His roar was so loud it shook the entire cottage along with everything in it. Before I had a chance to speak I watched Feyre hurl her hunting knife at the beast. But he was able to block it before it made contact with his skin.

Feyre stumbled backwards almost knocking into her father. I stepped forward slightly, the faerie had almost killed my cousin. I had almost lost her. The eyes of the monster landed on me, he looked at me differently then he had looked at Feyre. I straightened my back slightly, moving my shoulders to adjust the weight on my back. It was almost like he could sense that something was different about me. That I was different from my cousins. But as far as I was aware whatever was different about me he couldn’t see it. At least that’s what I hoped.

“WHO KILLED HIM?” He roared out, pulling his eyes away from me to look around at the rest of my family. He stalked towards us, he set his paw on the table, his claws scratched into the table one by one. I shuddered at the thought of what those claws could do.

“Killed who?” Feyre was quick to ask the question.

He growled out, his voice was low, “the wolf.” I looked to my cousin as her eyes fell to mine. I hadn’t been with her but she had in fact killed that wolf. At this moment I wish I had been with her. Maybe I should tell the creature that I was the one who had killed the wolf, but I knew Feyre wouldn’t let me do that.

“A wolf?” Elain released a shriek, I had to stop myself from covering my ears when I heard it.

“A large wolf with a gray coat,” he snarled at us.

“If it was mistakenly killed,” Feyre said to the beast, her voice calm. “What payment could we offer in exchange?” I closed my eyes dreading what this creature might want in return.

“The payment you must offer is the one demanded by the Treaty between our realms.”

“For a wolf?” I asked, tilting my head. This was so confusing.

“Who killed the wolf?” His eyes whirled around the room staring at each of us. I moved my shoulders, stepping forward however Feyre beat me to it.

“I did.” She said.

“Surely you lie to save them, to save her.” He said pointing at me with his clawed finger. I gulped, I feared that he might try and take me instead of Feyre. This wasn’t happening, this had to be a dream. I need to wake up now, I go to pinch myself only it hurts. This is real.

“We didn’t kill anything!” Elain cried. “Please… please, spare us!” Nesta hushed Elain, though she did it through her own crying. I couldn’t bring myself to cry like they were. I guess because I had been hunting for a while with Feyre. Suddenly my Uncle was standing from where he’d been sitting, grunting in pain.

“I killed it!” Feyre said, I watched as the beast pulled his eyes away from Nesta and Elain to look at her. “I sold its hide at the market today. If I had known it was a faerie, I wouldn’t have touched it.” I knew that was a lie.

“Liar.” So did he, apparently. “You knew. You would have been more tempted to slaughter it had you known it was one of my kind.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Did it attack you? Were you provoked?”

I looked over at my cousin waiting for her to say yes, to say something other than the word that was uttered from her mouth, “No,” she said, with a snarl of her own. “But considering all that your kind has done to us, considering what your kind still likes to do to us, even if I had known beyond a doubt, it was deserved.”

He released a growl to Feyre’s answer. I could feel the rage coming from the creature. I think we all could. I didn’t like where this was heading and I knew where this was heading. I didn’t want it to be the case. I can’t lose Feyre, she’s all I have. Sure the others are here but they don’t really care for me, I’m just an extra mouth that my parents forced them to take care of because they couldn’t handle whatever was wrong with me.

“What is the payment the Treaty requires?”

He continued to stare at Feyre as he talked to her, “A life for a life. Any unprovoked attacks on faerie-kind by humans are to be paid only by a human life in exchange.” Nesta and Elain stopped crying at the admission.

“I didn’t know.” Feyre said. “Didn’t know about that part of the Treaty.”

I couldn’t think of a way out of this, of a way to keep Feyre here with us. “Most of you mortals have chosen to forget that part of the Treaty,” he said, “which makes punishing you far more enjoyable.”

The panic inside me was flickering, I couldn’t lose her. He was going to take her away. I would never see the only person who understood me ever again.

“Do it outside,” Feyre whispered, her voice trembling. I wanted to cry for the first time in what felt like forever. But I still couldn’t bring myself to not yet anyway. “Not… here.”

“Willing to accept your fate so easily?” He asked. “For having the nerve to request where I slaughter you, I’ll let you in on a secret, human: Prythian must claim your life in some way, for the life you took from it. So as a representative of the immortal realm, I can either gut you like swine, or… you can cross the wal and live our the remainder of your days in Prythian.”

“What?” Feyre asked.

“Please.” I begged, no matter how hard I was trying to hold back my tears they had started to fall down my face. “Please don’t take her away from me. I can’t lose her.” I broke, as the words exited my mouth. My knees trembled and I quickly dropped to the ground staring at the beast.

“You can either die tonight or offer your life to Prythian by living in it forever, forsaking the human realm.”

I was shaking my head looking at my cousin. “Do it, Feyre,” my Uncle whispered from behind Feyre. “Go.”

“No. Please.” I cried out again.

“Live where? Every inch of Prythian is lethal to us.” She does have a point. “Why bother?”

“You murdered my friend,” he snarled at her. “Murdered him, skinned his corpse, sold it at the market, and then said he deserved it, and yet you have the nerve to question my generosity?”

Feyre stepped forward. “You didn’t need to mention the loophole.”

He released another snarl. “Foolish of me to forget that humans have such low opinions of us. Do you humans no longer understand mercy?” He’s so close to Feyre now. “Let me make this clear for you, girl: you can either come live at my home in Prythian—offer your life for the wolf’s in that way—or you can walk outside right now and be shredded to ribbons. Your choice.”

“Please, good sire—Feyre is my youngest. I beseech you to spare her. She is all… she is all…” His words seemed to die in his throat as he talked. “Please—”

“Silence.”

“I can get gold—” He tried to come up with a compromise, and I hoped that the beast would allow it over taking Feyre away.

“How much is your daughter’s life worth to you? Do you think it equates to a sum?” He questioned. Nothing came out to answer the question, the silence was deafening as Feyre stepped forward. She looked back at me, like she was sending her apology to me. I knew what it meant, she was leaving to protect all of us. And to honor the Treaty he was talking about.

“When do we go?” Feyre asked, I started shaking my head. I couldn’t breath, this was happening too fast for my liking.

“Now.”

I couldn’t hear anything after that. It was all silent. I wanted this to be a dream more than anything right now. I wish it were. I really do wish I could just wake up from this. I felt myself begging the creature over and over, asking to go with them. But Feyre turned it down before I even had a chance. I felt her arms around me as she said goodbye. But I still couldn’t process anything. Before I knew it she was gone, taken just like that.

I wouldn’t have my best friend with me anymore. I’d live a life without her and that broke me. I crumpled to the floor and cried out silently. I received no comfort from any of them the rest of the night. I just stayed on the floor until I eventually cried myself to sleep, hoping for a better future. Maybe I’d get a better future now. I just had to remain strong and not let my thoughts consume me. But that was a difficult challenge.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 4[*]

Azriel x Third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: a truly beautiful friendship is always founded in chaos (it’s funny because of who Eris is in mythology)

Also, I would like to emphasise the bickering at the end is entirely whispered—enjoy

Warnings: Just general angst, sexual undertones, unjustly jealous!Azriel, swans (don’t even get me started on how scary they are, and don’t try to tell me otherwise if you haven’t been cornered by at least one)

Word Count: 6,618

-Part 3- -Part 5-

A voice is calling your name from somewhere: somewhere foggy, and distant.

A voice that really has no business interfering with the hot, male body that’s pressing you into the wall.

Large, playfully rough hands grip your hips, using his own to keep you pinned against the brickwork, groping your ass appreciatively.

You arch up into him, mouth opening over his own, tongue stroking and flicking. Fingers rake through his hair, turning it messy as you haul him closer. The lovely press of his cock against your abdomen, the ego-boosting sign of his appetite. He groans into your mouth, bucking his hips, and you drag the soft swell of your breasts over his chest. The cool night air scrambles beneath your skirts, making them flutter and billow, urging him closer.

The voice sounds again. Clearer; closer.

It’s strange how it sounds like—

The male body is forcibly torn off you, cold flushing your front, leaving the uncomfortable dig of brick into your backside. You blink away your haze, real world events crushing back down, slamming home when your eyes lock with sharp hazel. He’s clearly pissed. It’s probably the most emotion he’s ever shown to you.

How miserable.

“Did you forget we’re have dinner tonight?” He asks gruffly, hand still resting firmly over the male’s shoulder who’s looking warily between the two of you. It dawns on you what he’s just seen you doing, the position he’s caught you in; heat swallows your body whole. The shameful, humiliated type, and you force yourself to keep his gaze. Beg yourself not to hang your head.

“I’m not going,” you manage, eyes flicking away from his. “I already told Fey, and she said it was fine, so…” His brow narrows, attention piercing into you, judging. “They’re not compulsory, anyway,” you mumble, “so really I— there’s no reason for me to be at one.”

“It’s a family dinner. There’re plenty of reasons for you to be there.” His eyes flick to the male who just had you pressed between him and a wall, “unless something more important comes up.”

There’s no obvious sign, but he’s agitated. Irritated. Maybe a foul mood.

Azriel releases the male, eyes flicking over his shoulder—a sure dismissal. When the male refuses to leave, Azriel’s shadows thicken. Definitely a foul mood. “Is there something I can help you with?” He mutters sharply, piercing attention zeroing in on the male—Bas.

His golden eyes turn on you, peering warily, “who is this? You said you were on your own.” Heat washes down your spine, gaze flicking between them, wishing for the floor to open up under your feet. “He’s—nobody. Just a—…” You fumble, unsure what to say. “Acquaintance,” Azriel finishes for you, hairs rising at the back of your neck as he stares at you. “A friend of a friend.”

Bas’ lips lift into a smirk, and you pray he’s going to keep his mouth shut for once. But he turns to Azriel, standing less than an inch shorter than the shadowsinger, “I don’t see what business you have with a friend of a friend,” he drawls, making both of you stiffen.

The dim faelights gleam in his intelligent golden eyes, bringing out the rich darkness of his skin, the outcropping of his sharp jaw, the thickness of his hair that hangs in lovely, rough locks.

Azriel’s eyes narrow, shadows coiling at his back, peeking over menacingly large wings, “and what business do you have with her? She has plans for tonight.” One of Bas’ brows quirks in subtle challenge, and you brace yourself. “Considering she sought me out, I think her plans have changed,” he says, that provocative smirk still tipping his lips.

“Bas…” you murmur, stress tensing your muscles.

Both of their attention switches to you, and your mouth seals itself shut.

Azriel shakes his head, “she’s coming with me. Don’t bother her again, Bas.” The words are final, and you can tell the conversation is over. Bas doesn’t back down, though. Always ready for a bit of rough and tumble. Practically lives off the edge. “Now I didn’t realise she was your property, Az,” he drawls challengingly, his attention then settling over you. “And you should have told me who this other person was, sweetheart.”

They know one another?

“She’s not your anything,” Azriel says, a rough sharpness to his voice. “Back off, Bas.”

The male doesn’t budge. Instead his gleaming eyes fall on you.

Oh no…

“Sweetheart?”

Heat warms your skin, gaze darting anywhere but the two males before you. You really don’t want to go to the dinner. To see all of them so soon after the mess that happened precisely one week ago… And it would be weird to show up after having said you weren’t going. What if you went and there wasn’t enough food? She has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need to worry about extra dinner guests.

You’re staying with Bas.

Hazel meets your gaze, and words stumble. “I…” I’m not going to the dinner.

“You…?” Azriel repeats, jaw tightening.

You flush, eyes lowering, heat warming your cheeks against the cool night air.

You turn to Bas, and he frowns. “Sorry,” you say gently, “I should see my sister.”

The wings at Azriel’s back loose a slight bit of their tension—still pulled taut. “Right, let’s go,” he says, cutting off any communication, “we’re already late.” You shoot Bas an apologetic look as you move to follow behind Azriel—keeping his gaze ahead. He merely shakes his head, giving you an easy smile, “find me after, okay?” A wave of gratefulness washes over you, and you push every drop of it into the thankful look you send him. Then you turn, hurrying down the uneven cobbles after the Shadowsinger.

He’s silent when you catch up, walking at his side, a pace behind. He doesn’t look at you once, continuing down the road that will lead to the River House. Fighting down the humiliation, you clear your throat. “Can you—” You nearly trip, righting yourself a second before your tipping point. Stumbling, you scoop the fabric of your long dress into your hands, raising it out of the way of your feet.

He continues walking, though slows a little as you scramble after him.

“Azriel,” you say, a little breathless. “Azriel, wait.”

He halts suddenly, making you flinch with the abrupt stop. Sharp hazel eyes press down on you, and you falter. “Yes?” He asks. Fumbling for words, your eyes flick out from under his, skipping over the shops in the darkening streets. “I—…” you begin, unsure what to say. “Can you…can you not mention any of that?” You request softly, embarrassing heat warming your cheeks.

“Who would tell?” He replies coldly.

Humiliation settles in the pit of your stomach. You lower your head a little. Nod. “I didn’t want you to think…”

“I don’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s business,” he says pointedly, watching you. Why does it feel like he’s scolding you?

Your lips press together, shoulders curving inward almost imperceptibly.

His eyes flick to your hair, and his hand raises, as if to shift a strand—tuck it away. But he stops, noting your gaze. “You need to fix your hair,” he says, a touch softer than before. “It’s obvious what you were doing.” Shame is like a deadweight in your gut, hands feeling dumb as they attempt to neaten out a mess you can’t see. His eyes narrow when you lower them, and you both know it would be easier if he was the one to right whatever’s wrong with you. He doesn’t, though.

“I’m not like Nesta,” you say softly, a little shakily.

His brow narrows slightly, “nobody said you were. There’s nothing wrong about being similar to her.” Heat warms your skin, and you stumble under the look.

“I mean, that—what you…saw—that’s not normal. It’s not a… I’m doing doing any of that…”

“Drinking and fucking?” You flinch at the crude wording, and a gleam of apology flashes in his hazel irises. He watches you quietly for a moment, and you shift under his gaze, hands moving to rest on your elbows, dress swishing close to the ground.

“You know it’s fine if you are,” he says, gently. “As long as you’re being sensible about it,” he adds, “there’s nothing wrong with doing that if it works.” Your lower lip wobbles at the implication—that he knows you’re doing this to try and get over him. How desperate you’ve become.

“But find someone other than Bas,” he says, making you furrow your brow.

“What’s wrong with Bas?” You ask. He’s been great. Azriel watches you silently again, hazel eyes piercing into you blankly. Has your lip-tint smudged?

“He’s not���” Azriel begins, as if debating how to frame what he wants to say. Make sure you’ll understand. “You shouldn’t spend your time with someone like him,” he settles on.

“‘Someone like him’?” You echo, looking back up the street to where the two of you had been. Heat crawls up your spine, and you hastily look away.

“He’s different from you,” Azriel says, bluntly.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you argue softly, peering at the cobbles. You hear him sigh, as if he doesn’t know what to do with you. “He can’t give you what you’re looking for. He’s the type to string you along until he’s bored, then never visit again. Stay away from him.”

“He hasn’t done anything bad…” you say quietly, shifting lightly from foot to foot. “He’s been…he’s been very nice.”

Azriel sighs again, and that funny feeling settles in your stomach. Disappointment tickling your insides. “That’s to draw you in. As soon as you try to bring him to a dinner, or to meet one of your sisters, he’ll bolt.”

“Why would I bring him to meet any of you?” You ask bitterly at the lack of confidence. “Do you plan to keep your partner a secret?” He counters with, tersely. “Maybe.” You reply defensively, still looking at the ground.

He’s quiet again, and you can almost feel the air shift. “Need I remind you of last week’s events,” he asks, quietly. “You’re not known for keeping your mouth shut.” You bite your lip to keep it from trembling, nails digging into your elbows. “And I thought you didn’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s relationships,” you murmur.

“I know they’ll make good decisions,” he counters. “You don’t have enough experience. To know what you’re doing.”

“Stop treating me like a child,” you whisper, head dipping. “I know what I’m—” you cut yourself off as a sob tries to work its way from your throat. Take a deep breath. Swallow. “I know what I’m doing,” you manage quietly.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” he argues. “You don’t want to damage yourself like that.”

Your body stiffens at the words, then a breath eases from your chest. You nod. “Okay.” You begin walking again, one foot in front of the other. He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You keep walking.

“I’m trying to help you,” he says flatly, falling into pace.

“Okay.”

“So you’ll stay away from him?” Azriel asks, eyes falling on your smaller frame.

“Okay.”

His brow narrows on you, watching intently. Then, “look at me.”

Look at me.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you, close enough to share breaths, yet you were the only vulnerable one. Not an ounce of intimacy to be exchanged. You keep walking toward the River House.

Azriel doesn’t say another word.

————

In the end, you’re somewhat glad you went to the dinner.

If you hadn’t, you would be back here, in the mortal lands.

Well, with no wall, you’re not sure what to call your previous homeland. But you’re here, nonetheless, and all thanks to Elain. She’d wished to see Lucien, who had near permanent residence in the mostly intact house, and had invited you along with her. Whether she knew you needed some time away, or simply offered, you don’t know.

You’d arrived most likely around an hour ago, Fey and Cassian departing soon after, leaving you and Elain to spend the day as you pleased. You’d opted to take a stroll around the gardens, walking alongside the river that was just beginning to refill after an apparently hot and dry summer.

That was your first encounter with Eris.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he winnows to the river bank mere feet to your left, stumbling backward a few steps in surprise. Cutting caramel eyes pierce into you with razor-sharp scrutiny, noting your pointed ears. His brow narrows as he takes you in; he doesn’t look pleased with what he finds.

Blinking, you mark the blazing colour of his hair, the beautifully tailored finery, the flicker of flame in his eyes—remarkably similar to Lucien. “What…who are you?” You manage, calming your heartbeat. It’s a nonsense question, you realise—it’s obvious who he is. Anyone could figure it out through simple deduction. So you shake your head, “why are you here?”

Eris’ eyes narrow on you, then he’s striding forward, moving up the river bank until he’s come to stop before you. You take a single step back—if you have to crane your neck to look at someone, you’re too close. He’s remarkably imposing with his height and muscle, despite the inherent beauty of the fae.

“Who are you?” The words are short and efficient in a sharp, brazen way, and you find yourself wondering if you should have just continued on your way. “I’m—” you open your mouth to give your name, then realise it would be rude to assume he knew who you were. There’s no reason for him to. “Feyre’s my younger sister,” you supply instead.

His brow narrows. “I didn’t know there were four of you.”

Heat flushes your skin, and you look away. It’s not an insult, yet you feel embarrassed.

“So, why are you here?” You repeat, a little quieter, trying to change the subject.

“I’m expected,” he replies shortly, turning to face the way you had come. “Why have you been kept a secret?” He asks. You mentally scramble for an excuse to continue on your walk. You don’t want to go back yet, and he’ll probably expect you to winnow, and you aren’t really in a talking mood at the moment. No excuse comes to mind.

“I haven’t been kept a secret,” you respond finally, falling into step a little behind him. “Not intentionally, anyway,” you add as an afterthought, frowning. He's walking fast, and you’d like more time to take in the scenery. At least he’s not winnowing.

“You haven’t been present at any meetings,” he counters, “I find it hard to believe that’s a coincidence.”

Your frown deepens, “why would I be at any of them? Elain hasn’t been to any, either. The only time you would have seen her is in the Hewn City.”

“Which you were kept away from, too.”

You come to a stop, watching him. His brow narrows as he’s forced to slow his pace, looking vaguely irritated. “I was there when you danced with Nesta,” you correct, “all of us were.”

Eris stares at you blankly and it’s an effort not to squirm. “I was there,” you insist, “behind Elain?”

He doesn’t remember you.

Well.

“So you’re good at remaining unseen,” he says, turning to set you into motion again. You hurry after him, a little taken aback at the compliment. It’s a nice way to think about it, a faint smile tipping your lips, “thank you.”

“It was a question.”

“Oh…” you say, smile vanishing. It hadn’t sounded like one. “I guess… I prefer it…”

“You and the Shadowsinger must get along swimmingly,” he mutters, continuing along the path, neatly avoiding muddied parts. Something you fail spectacularly at.

The comment registers in your mind and you stiffen, muscles contracting as you force yourself to continue moving. “Not particularly…” you hedge, uncertain what’s appropriate to tell him. You aren’t familiar with Court politics. “No more than anyone else, anyway,” you correct, soothing out the slight rumple.

“No? Not settling in well?” He asks. You could swear there’s some sort of mocking undertone to the question, but you can’t figure out what the taunt is for.

“I…I guess not?” You answer, slowly. “It’s not bad,” you add hastily, not wanting to talk negatively behind their backs. He might bring it up later. You repeat the thought in your head, then shake it, smiling faintly. He hadn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago, yet you think he could be trying exploit you. How silly.

The result of an over-inflated ego. Maybe you really should stop fooling around with Bas—he’s giving you all sorts of ideas about the value of your person, and it probably isn’t healthy.

“I mean, it’s fine. Just…normal, I guess. Compared with the initial chaos,” you add, satisfied with the end result of your rambling. The house is in sight now. All you need to do is pass between the river and the pond, and—

You stumble.

Not literally—it’s more of a mental scramble. Because right there, where they weren’t mere minutes ago, are a pair of large, powerfully built swans.

Eris continues walking like the two beasts aren’t eyeing you up with those sharp, beady eyes. You can practically see the light catching on the small teeth hidden beneath the beak. Glittering with menace.

“Let’s go this way,” you say abruptly, pointing to the path that winds around the pond. He comes to stop, clearly irritated by the unnecessary hinderances you’re causing. “This way is perfectly usable. We go this way,” he turns, continuing forward, fear rising in y our throat.

You scramble forward, clutching the skirts of your dress, “Eris!”

His caramel eyes slice into you, piercing in their intensity, but you don’t buckle. “I understand that maybe they don’t seem as vicious as the creatures of Prythian,” you murmur, as if they can hear you, “but swans are still very dangerous. We should go around.” Again you point to the pathway, ears perked up for any signs the massive birds are approaching. “And I get that you have magic, but you can’t just go around butchering local animals if they get in your way. That’s not how things are done here.”

He stares at you, as if asking if you’re serious. You hold his gaze because yes, you’re completely serious.

“You know they won’t attack you,” he counters, “and you’re correct, they aren’t dangerous compared to the beasts in Prythian. So move aside.”

You shake your head, “they could break your arm,” you insist, refusing to budge. His brow narrows in a scathing scowl, “they could break a human’s arm. I am not human.” He walks around you.

“They’re still dangerous, Eris. We should really go around,” you urge, watching as he walks along the path, remaining rooted to the spot. “Just winnow,” he snaps, then looks over his shoulder. “Unless you aren’t strong enough.”

“I can winnow fine, but…” Even that’s too close to them. You firmly believe animals have a sixth sense humans do not—you wouldn’t put it past them to know they’ve been cheated. “Please, let’s just go around.”

He watches you with narrowed eyes, weighing; judging. You freeze beneath his gaze, refusing to even breathe in case it’s the wrong thing to do. He turns fully to you then, and you think he might listen to you. Relief washes over you, but—

“You’re scared of these creature?” He asks, amusement underlying his tone. You flush. “Like I said, they’re dangerous,” you defend, lowering your gaze a little.

“You know, you’re fae. They won’t attack you.”

Your eyes flick up, doubting. “Why would they act any differently?”

“We are creatures of magic. Greater than they are. They know it would be unwise to attempt anything.” You blink, having not thought of it like that. The fae had felt different when you were human, more intense, more concentrated in a way humans weren’t. You hadn’t considered maybe other animals would understand that primal difference, too.

Eris’ lips twitch, and he holds out his arm—you’re completely certain it’s a mocking gesture this time. But also a challenge.

It’s also a prompt to face your fears. It’s been long enough.

You can do this.

You can prove to yourself there’s no need to be afraid of them any longer.

You take some small steps forward. Then a few more. And a few more after that. And then your arm is overlapping with Eris’, feeling the hot strength of muscle cording his forearm. An odd feeling of security settles over you, as the two of you begin to move forward.

You’re unable to help tensing as you pass them, even if Eris is on the side closest to them. Then to your dismay, he stops. “You can pet them, if you want,” he says, lips still quirked in the corners. He’s enjoying watching you shake and tremble at something half your size. “Are you insane?” You mutter under your breath, staring at the white beasts that seem to be waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Eyes widen and you stare at him, “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean that.”

He watches you steadily, eyes gleaming as he turns toward the swans, forcibly dragging you with him, despite your protests. “Eris…” you mutter, digging your feet into the mud, but you nearly slip. “Eris, seriously, stop it.”

He stops; you sigh in relief, but the tension doesn’t leave your body—still much too close to the great birds.

“Go up to one,” he says, a smirk on his rosey lips. “Touch one, then you can go.” He���s enjoying this far too much for your liking.

“No way,” you hiss, trying to pull out of his hold. The swans shift at the jerky movement, and you still. You stare at him, but he doesn’t seem inclined to move. “They’ll definitely do something if I try to go up to one!” You argue, as softly as possible. He just hums, and you wish you had continued walking instead of addressing him. Then you could be looking for blackberries, enjoying the natural sounds of the outside.

But here you are.

“You’re fae,” he reminds, eyes gleaming as he watches you intently.

Muscles tremble, thoughts flash in and out of existence within your mind as you look at the swans, sat neatly on the river bank, just at the water’s edge. A few long steps there, then back, and it’ll be over.

He’s right—you’re fae. They won’t attack you.

Still.

His arm unlinks from your own, hand pressing gently against the base of your spine. Egging you on.

You exhale a heavy breath, then move forward. Silently cursing him—unkind as it is. One step at a time as you descend the bank. The wind seems to have picked up, and you’re grateful for your preternatural sense of balance as you move down the muddy slant, feet settling on the pebble-filled shore.

Just three more steps, and you can turn back.

Two more.

One more, and then you’ll be in reaching distance.

The beady eyes pierce into you, wings stiffening, and you force yourself to breathe deeply.

“Just tap one on the head, and it’ll be over,” he reminds from your back, a little too loudly for your liking. Like he’s trying to get them to startle.

You steady yourself, blocking him out.

Come on, you can do this. You’re twice it’s size, and have immortality on your side. You can do this.

Slowly, shakily, you take the last step forward, reaching out your hand.

Black eyes meet your own, and you falter.

The swan shrieks, the second one hissing viciously, wings flaring to strike. You jump away, feet landing on the slippery rocks of the river. The massive birds surge forward, beak opening to snap at you, and you stumble, yelping as you fall backward. Icy water soaks up to your waist, and the breath whooshes out of you, your arms covering your face as wings flap.

When you open your eyes, the swans have taken off, and you’re up to your ribs in freezing river water. Trembling and shaking, you ease yourself out, soaked from the waist down, clothes wet and icy against your skin as you shiver.

Up on the bank, Eris is grinning, eyes gleaming with mirth as he watches your soaked state shuffle from the river, barely keeping his laughter to himself.

“You said—” Your heart is still pounding, vision blurring a little as you fumble for words. “You said they— That they wouldn’t…” Your teeth are already chattering, and you have to get warm quickly. You know how deadly the cold can be. Even with a reinforced body, the cold is as vicious as you remember, softly sinking into your arms, numbing your lips.

“Every animal has a fight or flight response,” he replies, voice lilting with amusement at your terror. “It was foolish of you to think you were above that.”

“But you said—”

“If I told you to dip beneath the river for five minutes without coming up for air because fae lungs are larger, would you do it?” He counters.

“…I wouldn’t disbelieve you,” you stammer, lips numb from the cold, lumbering back toward the bank.

The water in your shoes makes it hard to climb the muddy slope, and you end up having to use your hands to keep yourself steady, gritty dirt sliding beneath your nails. “Why did you lie?” You manage, heart pounding from fear, blinking away tears. His lips are still quirked into a rueful smile, enjoying your terror.

Hateful, hateful, hateful male.

“Don’t blame your idiocy on me,” he says smoothly, offering you a viper’s smile as he turns to continue along the path, leaving you freezing and shivering, soaked in river water. “Anyone with half a brain would have been able to see through that,” he calls over his shoulder. Tears spill down your cheeks, and for once, you don’t think, or fret over the consequences.

You winnow, and land a smack square across his cheek. As hard as you can.

He blinks, startled.

Then flame ignites in his eyes, glittering ire blazing hot as a forge.

“Don’t you ever,” you snarl, “do something like that again.” Fury heats your body, and you feel like a physical warmth is wrapping around you, fingertips tingling as if glowing, skin itching just below the surface. “Do you hear me, Eris?” You repeat, rage sharpening your words as your lip pulls back from your teeth.

The flame banks in his caramel eyes, and he yields a step. It’s satisfying, until you realise why.

You are glowing. But it’s not the bright, warm golden of Feyre’s happiness.

It’s green, and vivid.

Hands the colour of radiant starfall.

————

The Mother seems to enjoy putting you through various trials.

You come to this conclusion as you resist the urge to press deeper into the firm heat of Azriel’s chest as he carries you through the air.

For reasons you can only guess at, Cassian was otherwise preoccupied, leaving the Shadowsinger to fill in. Now Elain understands your relationship with the male, Feyre can guess at the complexities, and Azriel is part of the mess, so it should be obvious you’ll fly with your younger sister, right?

Unfortunately, Lucien had to be accounted for.

He’s well aware of the history between the Spymaster and his mate, and while he would never ask Elain to avoid him, she can guess well enough it would make him unhappy. That’s how you end up in his arms, split between wishing to be anywhere else, and wishing to be able to bask in his touch without anyone questioning how close you would lean. As it is, you’re stuck between keeping your distance, and not leaning so far it looks like you’re attempting to plummet to the ground far below.

The group is moving in silence, passing over the final stretch, and you can make out the twinkle of lights in the distance—Velaris. They’d gotten caught up in—what sounded like—a rather heated conversation with the Autumn Court heir, while you had opted to wait outside. The hallway had seemed too cramped, and you weren’t sure if you could manage being pressed so close to him without making your discomfort obvious.

Azriel breaks the silence. “Was everything okay with Eris suddenly turning up?”

The question startles you from your inner thoughts, and you replay it to catch the beginning. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your eyes off him. “He’s just a bit…” You fumble for words, but he’s already nodding, knowing what you’re getting at. “He’s a little intense,” you settle on, “but everything was fine. For the most part, anyway.” You’re rambling.

“For the most part,” he echoes, a soft question in his voice.

“Well, I ended up falling into the river, but you know how it is…” you mumble, suddenly finding the sky very interesting. More interesting than Azriel.

(Liar.)

“I don’t think I do,” he replies. “What does soaking yourself to the bone have to do with him?” He asks, grip tightening ever so slightly as you begin the descent. You really don’t want to tell him—it’s not going to win you any adult points. At best it’ll just show how emotional your are, and that means baggage.

“It’s a long story,” you hedge, trying not to cling too tight to him as your stomach lifts in your belly. “We’ve got a while left,” he replies, gazing ahead. He could definitely be going at a steeper angle.

You sigh softly, trying to figure out how to make it as quick and concise as possible. “Well…he kind of…appeared out of nowhere, and we ended walking back together.” Azriel’s fingers press into your skin lightly, slowly spiralling in wide circles, “and there was a river involved.”

You nod gently, “yeah.”

“How?”

Teeth worry your lower lip, mouth pursing.

He exhales quietly. “We’re in an alliance, but that doesn’t mean you should trust him. I need to know everything that happened so precautions can be made,” he explains firmly.

“Okay…”

“So tell me what happened when you were walking alone with him,” he prompts.

“There’s not much to say…” you try, but he gives you a look that tells you to quit lying. “I don’t know…we were walking past the river, and there were some swans, and he convinced me to touch one, and…well, I slipped and fell in.” You leave out the glowing hands part. If you mention it, you know they’ll pounce. You don’t want to go through what Nesta did. The things she had to endure just to activate her powers…

Granted, there’s no looming threat of the queen anymore, but still. You’d rather not.

“He convinced you,” Azriel mutters under his breath, “and how did he do that?” You flush with heat, and pray he can’t tell. “I didn’t want to walk past them, and he…encouraged me to tackle my fear.”

“Stop forcing a good narrative on that prick,” he says sharply. “He didn’t encourage you, he manipulated you.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but I’m a little less afraid of swans now.”

Azriel sucks in a steadying breath. “And what did you talk about?”

You cast your mind back to the conversation. “He said he hadn’t known there were four sisters,” you admit, quietly, “he thought there were only three, and that Rhys was hiding me, for some reason.” He hums, and your hairs stand on end, able to feel the resonance thrumming through you. You hurriedly shift your mind elsewhere before your scent changes. “What else?”

You put your teeth into the inside of your lower lip, “I…” said we weren’t on the best of terms. “He asked…how…I was settling in,” you manage to string the words together, selecting each one with great care. “And?” He prompts. Oh dear.

“I said it was fine,” you reply, purposely vaguely. His eyes flick to you, and your own snap away in response. “Just fine?” He questions, softly. You make to nod, but he mutters your name under his breath, a quiet reprimand on his tongue. Heat coils in the pit of your belly, making you shift uncomfortably in his arms, leaning away.

A muscle feathers in his jaw, and he tightens his grip on you. “Stop doing that. You’ll fall.” You’re squeezed closer to him, and you squirm, the heat doubling. He mutters your name again, rougher.

“Stop doing that,” you hiss, sharply. You don’t have time to feel bad—it’s better to be rude than for him to realise the immense effect he has on you. “Stop leaning away from me,” he counters, “you’re being difficult.”

“I’m sorry my responses are an inconvenience for you,” you snap, quietly. No louder than a whisper.

“Don’t weaponise your emotions like that,” he murmurs back.

“I don’t see how I’d be able to when I don’t even know what that means,” you return, quietly. You feel his eyes press into you, and you look further away, inspecting the ground. “Don’t feign ignorance either,” he says sharply, “it’s immature.”

“Immature is making a problem out of something I can’t help,” you whisper back, snappily. His eyes narrow on you, and you shift again.

His hold tightens abruptly, fingers digging into you as he roughly readjusts his grip on your thighs and around your back. You squeak at the harsh treatment, heat bursting in your lower belly, and you squeeze your lips together, praying no sounds slip out. “It’s like you’re trying to get me to drop you,” he mutters beside your ear, “just keep still. We’re almost there.”

“Keep still?” You repeat incredulously, staring at him. “I don’t know if you’ve somehow forgotten, Azriel,” you hiss, emphasising his name. Hazel eyes flick down to you, and you gently push away the heat for a moment. “But I struggle to even think straight when you’re around. I can barely keep my head as it is, so forgive me if I’m a little shifty in a position like this,” you snap quietly. Probably the most aggressive you’ve ever been for a consistent time period.

“And I don’t know if you’ve forgotten,” he snipes back, eyes piercing into you, “but you managed to pull away on the brink of an orgasm.” Wild heat swallows you whole, and there’s no way your scent is remaining undetected now. “So you’re clearly more in control than you say you are.”

You stare at him, lips parted, skin flushed with heat.

“We are done with this conversation,” you hiss, breaking your gaze away. He doesn’t appreciate the verbal dismissal. “We’re done when I say we’re done,” he hisses in return. “Now what did you mean when you told Eris you were fine?”

You purse your lips, pointedly averting your eyes.

He mutters your name, grip tightening on you. You ignore him.

He repeats it, rougher this time, shadows twining around you.

“Cut it out,” you whisper, sharply.

“Expand on the fine comment,” he pushes, and you can physically feel the weight of his gaze upon your cheek. “Why are you so hung up on that one, tiny part?” You return, a sliver of irritation peeking through. “Because you’ve been acting strangely for a while now,” he hisses, “and if you’re starting to spiral like Nesta—”

“Do not threaten me, Azriel,” you snarl softly, skin heating—tingling. His eyes flicker, and his hold lessens on you a little, “it’s not a threat,” he soothes, “just an observation.” You narrow your brow as you watch him warily. “Like I said: you’ve been acting strange recently, and if you even gave the slightest hint that something’s off, Eris will exploit it.”

Your eyes flick away, slightly embarrassed by your tiny outburst. That wasn’t appropriate.

“So tell me, what happened when you said you were fine?” He repeats, gritting out the question.

“I…” You bite your lip, then give up. “He asked if I was settling in well, and I said I wasn’t.”

“Why did you tell him that?” He asks, gaze returning to pick out Velaris, much closer now. “Because it’s the truth,” you reply, a little weakly.

“I don’t care if it’s the truth, you shouldn’t have told him,” Azriel hisses. “He’ll give you the comfort you want, offer the reassurance, until you’re wrapped so tightly you choke on it.”

Hurt flickers in your eyes, vision blurring. “Maybe if I was better than fine I wouldn’t need the comforting,” you snap, turning your head and blinking away tears. His jaw tightens, “that’s not the point.” You stare at him. He stares back, features set in a stony line. “What is the point, then?” You ask weakly, the small spark of fight banking, beginning to flicker out beneath his oppressive gaze. “The point is,” he says, dragging out the words like he’s talking to a child. “You’re too naive.”

It’s like a smack to the face, your head reeling.

“You don’t know the dynamics between the courts. You don’t know about the feuds, or the history of Prythian. You don’t know enough to be trusted to act on your own,” he continues, oblivious to the number of scars he’s striking. “You’re a loose cannon, that I now have to compensate for.”

You stare up at him, hazel eyes glittering beneath the starlight.

“What’s worse—”

You put your hands over your ears. You can’t take anymore. If it was coming from someone else—fine. From anyone else it would be fine; understandable.

But not Azriel. That’s too much.

His brow furrows, lips moving, and you can guess he’s telling you to remove your hands.

You shake your head softly, unable to stand another word.

But his shadows contract around your wrists, tugging them away, and you hate the heat the bubbles in your lower belly at the roughness.

“You need to grow up,” he mutters, lowly. “You can’t just run away from something if you don’t want to hear it. You’re going to have to face it.”

A sob breaks from your chest, and your hands cover your face as the tears finally break, spilling down your cheeks. “Just leave me alone,” you cry, shoulders shaking as the tears continue streaming. “You find me irritating? fine. You find me annoying? Fine. You think I’m the worst, ugliest, most useless female in the world, fine,” you sob, unable to look at him. “But keep it to yourself, because every single word from your mouth holds more weight that you can probably even understand. And it is crushing me.”

You tremble in his arms, wishing they were there to offer comfort instead of being purely obligatory.

“You think Eris is the viper? You think he’s the one who’s bad for me? The one who’s trying to choke me?” You ask through your tears. “But you’re the one succeeding.”

Azriel’s eyes harden, and you feel the fractures growing larger. “I’m trying to keep you in line,” he replies, coldly. “For the sake of my Court, my High Lord and Lady, I am doing my best to keep people safe,” he emphasises. “And you are a proving to be a burden.”

You don’t know if he intentionally selected that word, burden.

You don’t know if he even realises which wound he’s targeted—so many have been picked open.

But you go quiet in his arms.

Docile.

The fight finally winking out.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd

[kopfkino-o]

My predictions for the rest of the ACOTAR series go something sorta like this…

ACOTAR 5: Elain x Azriel

Elain conquers her Mountain (the Prison). Spy Elain arc with a friendship with Nuala and Cerridwen. Azriel is her love interest and together they deal with their respective traumas. Elain finally gets to choose, and Azriel is finally chosen. A conversation between Mor and Az clears up the dynamic between them. A subplot involving a friendship between Elain and Lucien that leads them to mutually deciding to reject the bond. Koschei breaks free at the end of the book.

Theme(s): Fate vs Freewill, Self-Autonomy

NOVELLA: Prequel

A prequel novella surrounding the events of Prythian during the reign of the Daglan. Theia, Fionn, and Pelias are major characters. We learn more about what happened and about the dynamic between them. Koschei and the Death God siblings will also have some role, giving us more background on them. This sets up a potential full-fledged crossover series (Twilight of the Gods) or just simply introduces the idea of a multiverse for ACOTAR-only readers. Information learned in this will also set up things for the final ACOTAR book.

Theme(s): Power & Corruption, Hubris (?)

ACOTAR 6: Lucien x Vassa

Lucien goes back to the Spring Court or Humanlands to deal with Koschei. His love interest is Vassa and he has a friendship with Jurian. Eris and Lady of Autumn are also somehow involved. Koschei forces Vassa back to his creepy lake. Vassa’s relationships with the other trapped women is explored. Lucien discovers his heritage and spell-cleaving powers. Helion plays some sort of role in this. Lucien uses these powers to free Vassa and finally defeat Koschei, most likely with the support of the three Archeron sisters and the three bat boys. Vassa and Lucien end up reigning as High King and Queen of both Prythian and the Humans. The story ends with an epilogue that gives us a look into what the rest of the main characters do in the future and where other side characters end up.

Theme: Identity, Family

The End!

[hailucy]

REQUESTS for fanfics

Hi everyone! I’m Hai! i use she/her pronouns

I’ve always been using tumblr to read fanfics but never to write or post anything, however lately i’ve been having an urge to write fics. So here i am *jazz hands*

Disclaimer: I’m not the best at grammar specifically comma placements so if there’s a problem with any of that please ignore it or message me!! Also i’m probably a slow writer :) i’ll most likely start with drabbles and work my way up

MEDIA I WRITE FOR:

(names written are the characters i would favour writing however you can suggest any)

Harry Potter (golden trio era):

Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaine Zabini, any of the other slytherins

PJO:

Percy Jackson, Leo Valdez, Annabeth Chase,

Shameless USA:

Lip Gallagher, Carl Gallagher

(i’m only on season 3 but i know a lot of spoilers so that’s why i decided to write for shameless however if requesting please don’t center it around big plot points that occur after season 3, i’ll update after each season i’ve watched)

Acotar:

Azriel, Cassian, Nesta Archeron, Eris Vanserra, Lucien, Vanserra

Doctor Who:

9th Doctor, 10th Doctor, 11th Doctor, 12th Doctor, 13th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Donna Noble(platonic)

Across the Spiderverse:

Miles 42, Hobie Brown, Miguel O’Hara

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid, Elle Greenaway

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester

(i’m only on season 5 so if requesting please don’t center it around big plot points that occur after/during season 5, i’ll update after each season i’ve watched)

Dominic Fike:

(hes the only [real] person i will write for as of now)

WHAT I WRITE:

- GN reader and Fem Reader (only because i’m more comfortable and experienced)

- Fluff

-Angst (my favourite)

-suggestive

WHAT I DONT WRITE:

-Smut (i’m not comfortable with it… yet;)

-incest, pedophilia or anything that correlates with these things

-yandere (i’m simply not able to write it. no shaming over here i promise!)

-second chance but the reason they broke up was because one cheated or abused the other. (i’m sorry but i cant, they deserve better) however i am able to write cheating or abuse if asked but only if it ends with a happy ending and reader does not end up with abuser/cheater. Or if there was a mistake(miscommunication when it comes to the cheating)

-If a character is part of the Lgbtq+ community i will not pair them with a gender they don’t like romantically (like Ian Gallagher x fem reader but i can do GN reader). This doesn’t mean i won’t write sibling or platonic reader for that person

CHARACTERS I DONT WRITE FOR:

(because i’m a hater, i’m sorry. however they can be mentioned or be the ‘antagonist’ but they can’t be the main character )

Luke Castellan, Rhysand, Feyre Archeron, Elain Archeron, Debbie Gallagher(don’t hate her but i don’t really understand/like her character enough to write for her), Calypso(i’m an avid hater)

Reminder i will write for anyone not mentioned but i will prioritise the names listed above

[imsointobooks]

I posted 3,195 times in 2022

15 posts created (0%)

3,180 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mercurianbisous

@yazthebookish

@shadowsingerspriestess

@broodybatboy

@daevastanner

I tagged 75 of my posts in 2022

#gwynriel - 14 posts

#gwyneth berdara - 11 posts

#acotar - 9 posts

#azriel - 9 posts

#gwyn x azriel - 8 posts

#azriel berdara - 8 posts

#acosf - 6 posts

#nesta archeron - 2 posts

#feyre archeron - 2 posts

#gwynweek2022 - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#imagine the chaos of gwyn adding ingredients to a bowl and hoping for the best while elain desperately tries to make her follow a recipe

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Theories I love (Part 1):

Gwyn:

Being shadow mommy. Coming into her role of priestess and co-leading the valkyries. Late night training sessions with Az and flirting with him and making him blush. Kissing him first. Being besties/ siblings with Rhys. Being close friends with Cass, Lucien and Feyre and of course her girl gang/ soul sisters Nesta and Emerie. Getting to know more about her Autumn Court heritage. Going out into Velaris to explore on her own. Visiting her sister's grave for closure and meeting some of the kids she saved that day. Helping with her immense knowledge and research in finding the 4th Dead Trove and being Az's spy buddy. Getting to explore her nymph heritage. I think Merril is sus but even if she isn't standing up to her. Honestly a maternal, fond relationship with her and Clotho. Nerding it out with Rhys. Getting to know about the mating bond first. Nyx loving her. Awesome kinky bookish idea sex scenes with Az and shadow play and bondage with ribbons. Casual cuddles between her and Az.

Azriel

Finding his self - worth and self - love. Bat bois bond and fun. Kinky bedroom scenes. Getting touched when he realises others love for him and acceptance of him (because it is there). Getting exasperated with his shadows for being obsessed with Gwyn. Closure with Mor. Babysitting Nyx moments. Him singing. Him crying once in front of people and letting out his emotions. Being the sweetiest and hottest in bed with Gwyn. Late night sparring sessions. Jealousy from Balthazar over Gwyn. Being a protective ass and getting his ass handed to him for trying to be a white knight. Accepting his illyrian heritage and doing his best to make it better. Spy missions for the dead trove. Late night research sessions and stargazing with Gwyn. Beinga mused by her and in awe of how she slays in her Court of Nightmares look. Honestly some funny thoughts about Amren in his head. Being more open with the IC. Craving touch from bis favourite Valkyrie. Shirtless scene. Truthteller scene. Dad style trying to scold his shadows for sneaking of to Gwyn and then Gwyn scolds him for being rude to the adorable minions. A strategy point where he comes up with a really smart solution to a problem. A separate moment with all of the IC members. Becoming friends with Lucien and apologising to him.

Rhysand

Being besties and nerding it out with Gwyn. Azzie and Rhysie moments. Proud and loving dad moments. Competing with Feyre for their child's first word. Providing the chafing with a smirk when Gwynriel's bond clicks. Amren and Rhys friendship. Nesta and Rhys friendship and random gift giving. Teasing Az about Gwyn.

Feyre

Tough but loving mom moments. Girls night out with her, Gwyn and Nesta. Observing how good Az and Gwyn are together. Her and Nesta being sisters. Her and Mor friendship and helping her out with Emerie. Lucien and her being besties again pleaseeee.

Elain

Going to the day court and becoming a courtier. Observing how people behave and using her natural charm to be a diplomat and come into her own. Going to the spring court and seeing it bloom. Possibly becoming its consort with Lucien (because i don't find her much of a High Lady material) and helping others out in it and gardening. Maintaing her friendship and having a closer bond with Nuala and Cerridwen (idk if i spelled that right). Being distant but amicable with her sisters because honestly she's a self-centered sister and idk want their to be some rlly close bond with her and Nesta and Feyre as a resolution. As a person Elain can be cool but family wise she's a Taryn. Not being coddled by the NC and going out to explore likes she wanted to with Lucien. Being friends with the BoE but initially they don't like her she has to earn their friendship and protection. Donning Day Court fashion. Rejecting the mating bond but being with Lucien. Getting jealous of Lucien with someone else. Being a goddamn courtier and helping out and being seen as something more than a pretty face and using her charm and observance. Helping defeat Koschei.

Lucien

Becoming High Lord of the Spring Court (hell no is Helion dying idc). Getting an apology/ redemption arc from Tamlin for his abuse. Becoming besties with Feyre again. BoE friendship and sass and die for each other style moments. Being a courtier and ambassador. BEING HAPPY AND LOVED. Realising he will not be used by others abd will fight for himself and put himself first. I love his approach towards Elain in every aspect nothing change. I don't want a head over heels love thing more the finding her worthy that is there rn. Closure regarding Jesminda. Dad Helion and baby Lucien moments. Mommy LA and Eris bro moments too. Figuring out his day court powers. Gagging over his dad and mom being lovey-dovey. Being the sassy sarcastic awesome we know he is. Reviving the Spring Court. Helping defeat Koschei. Hanging out with his brother in laws.

66 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

#4

500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

❤️❤️🥳🥳

I have never cared about having followers before, because I never actually found a platform which made me want to be active on it. But it feels really special to see that I have 500 followers. Its a flex in my family😁.

For all its flaws and ship wars, I am so thankful to tumblr for finally giving me an online presence and mutuals I love. This site is so interactive, relatable, genius, talented and soothing and I have all you guys to thank for it!

A special shoutout to some blogs that have been a ray of light in my life the past 2 years.

@bookofmirth Its my biggest flex to tell everyone that an actual literary professor follows me and acknowledges me. I love your opinions, especially in regards with Mor.

@yazthebookish commissions and fact check for all gwynriels

@daevastanner do I even need to say anything? The fanfiction queen and its like talking to Emerie online.

@hellogoodbye14 your fluff is just what I need for a pick me up always

@aelingalathyniusrailme sass and smarts? Writes the hottest Gwyn.

@hlizr50 and @gwynrielsupremacy to fulfilling prompts to perfection and blessing us with writing

@mercurianbisous for giving me all the fanfics and dom Az I never knew I wanted but so needed

@tealnymph24 for being my first close mutual on here

@thebluenickel the one i have bonded with most and for gifting us the canon gwynriel book

@houseofhurricane for making me think and writing intriguing, hot plots

@lucielart , @salteas and @carol-pisarro (someone please tell me their handles😅) the most gorgeous, emotive and stunning art we never deserved but still got thanks to your talent 😍

@broodybatboy , @shadowsingerspriestess and @lady-riel for the cute ficlets and incorrect quotes.

@cascadingmoon and @booknerd87 for the commissions and events and stories, we were kept constantly fed thanks to your efforts.

This is no where close to everyone and I'll keep editing it as people come to my mind but I am so grateful for all of you and my mutuals and the talented writers and artists in this fandom

Love You💋💋

72 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

#3

I actually think that SJM will show part of the book with Azriel pining after Elain but in the way where he believes he likes Elain and wants to be with her, but his actions completely contradict that. Like he is trying to be in love with her because the 3 sister 3 brother logic dictates that and he wants to be in love with someone (desire for mate). But he actually has no idea what loving someone is like so he realises in his character arc that that he's looking for the wrong things.

Basically doing beautiful bestie and love couple type things with Gwyn but not realising that that's the kind of love he's been looking for. And that him wanting Elain is just words and no thoughts or actions. I want to see his notion of love challenged in his character arc. And I honestly don't want Gwyn to be waiting on the sidelines with the knowledge that she's his mate, I honestly want both of them to figure that out only when they are together already.

I think Azriel forms a biased judgement of something in his head and sticks with it despite evidence otherwise.

His family abused him? All Illyrians deserve to die, despite the fact that he knows good ones like Rhys, Cass and Emerie too.

He thinks he's in love with Mor? Doesn't get over her or take the hint even after 500 years that she isn't.

He is a torturer? He's a monster who doesn't deserve anything good, despite having a family who loves him so much.

His brothers found happiness with a mate? He wants a mate despite knowing that his brother's didn't find happiness when they got to know they had a mate but when their mate and they fell in love and chose to be with the other.

His brothers have an Archeron mate? He wnats one too despite the 3rd Archeron already having mate.

He wants to be in love with Elain? He'll try to be with her despite not feeling any love for her and being in love with a teal-eyed Valkyrie instead till she makes it impossible for him to stick to his stupid judgement.

73 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

#2

Gwynriel headcannon:

As Gwyn and Azriel's prank war goes on:

Azriel opens his wardrobe one morning to find that all his boxers have been replaced with pale pink thongs with unicorn ears on them, courtesy of Gwyn and the House.

And when he comes up to the dining room for breakfast, Gwyn teasingly calls out, "Won't you show us the ears Az?"

So he promptly takes his shirt off to throw at her and strides over to her and brackets her in the chair with his arms.

And whispers in her ear, " Don't see any do you Gwyneth? I thought going commando might be a better visual for you. Was I right?"

And walks off smugly leaving Gwyn all hot and flustered.

121 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I present to you, Gwyn Berdara's hair!

✔️ copper

✔️ brown

✔️ glow like molten metal

✔️ redhead

✔️ (future) can take ruby gleam at night with Azriel in their private training sessions 👀👀👀

129 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sareeen]

Chocolate cake

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: You are Feyre's sister, the youngest Archeron sibling and when you return home from your run you see that your sister has returned home but not alone. In particular, you are drawn to the silent and mysterious shadow singer.

Warnings: fluff, a little smut, Azriel is just cute and sexy <3

A/N: I have never written anything like this before, so please be nice to me. :D English is not my mother tongue, so don't be angry if there are mistakes in the text. Criticism is welcome, so feel free to write. :)

Something is happening. The sounds of the forest have died away, the birds have stopped too suddenly and the air seems to have become thicker. I began to run faster as the setting sun's rays broke their way through the canopy of the forest trees and illuminated my sweaty skin.

Running usually calmed me down. After my sister Feyre decided to go back to Prythian, I had to do something to get out of the house. Away from my other two sisters, the aristocratic elite and our father. But most of all, away from loneliness.

Feyre was the only person in my life who really loved and cared for me. We had been inseparable since we were little girls, and our impoverishment only strengthened our bond. Many people in the village referred to us as twins because we did everything together - sometimes moving in sync as if we were performing a well-rehearsed choreography.

My legs, shaking with fatigue, began to slow as soon as I saw our house. It was almost completely dark, so light filtered through the windows of the house, shining on the freshly fallen snow. My breath billowed in the air like a thick mist and I got goosebumps from the biting cold that hit my almost completely naked torso, covered only by a tiny sports bra. I hated running in a jacket, so even in winter I wore only long trousers and this bra. Nesta was furious every time she saw me like this.

"A lady can't run in clothes like that, Y/N," she shouted after me the last time. Like I was a lady. This was the furthest thing from my mind, after having spent my teen years starving and as a servant in the houses of people I now meet at balls.

A shiver ran through me as I walked up the stairs to the front door. However, it wasn't the cold that made all my hairs stand on end, but some primal instinct to get out of there as soon as possible. I shook my head to shake this silly warning out of it and went in. I walked quietly down the corridor and when I glanced at the clock in the lounge, I cursed softly to myself. I was late for dinner again. Nesta will certainly have my head for this and tomorrow I'll be the new ornament in her room.

Sighing, I headed for the dining room, knowing that I wouldn't get away with the scolding anyway, so I'd better get it over with sooner. The sound of cutlery died away as my footsteps were heard, and I braced myself for the piercing stares. However, instead of four pairs of eyes, twelve were looking at me. Stunned, I stopped at the sight, but what really caught my attention was Feyre.

"Y/N," she rose from her chair. With bated breath, I watched as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, showing off her pointy ears. Fairy ears. Her hands were covered in tattoos, taller and radiating a pulsing power that made you want to bow to her. I, however, stood frozen and watched as my sister stepped to me and pulled my petrified body to her. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening, but within moments I was hugging her back and now I was squeezing harder.

"Feyre," I whispered in a hoarse voice and tears ran from my eyes. "You're back."

"Yes, I'm here," she murmured. "Just in a different way."

I pushed myself away to see her face. Her grey-blue eyes sparkled with joy, but I also saw a hint of fear.

"Are you all right?" I asked, and then started to turn her back and forth. "Are you hurt? What happened to you to turn you into a fairy?"

Feyre chuckled, then stopped me.

"I'm fine Y/N," she replied, taking my hand and leading me to the table. That's when I saw the three men.

The one Feyre now sat next to had purple eyes and black hair. His watchful gaze swept over me, and all I could think was that I had probably never seen a more beautiful man. The corner of his mouth twitched, and even though my gaze glided on to the next fairy sitting across the table, I could see Feyre giving him a warning glance, but I didn't have time to think about it much.

The long-haired man grinned and even waved, before Nesta started to snort like an angry cat. I turned to my sister with raised eyebrows and smiled faintly. It seemed I had found a partner, because so far I was the only one who could get that reaction out of my sister. My eyes flicked back to the man and I was shocked to discover the wings behind him.

Good Great Mother, it's not a fairy, it's a bat.

The previous man was already grinning too, but I forgot all about everyone else at the sight of the third fairy. I was wrong before, because the first man wasn't the most beautiful, he was. The third man was not handsome, but downright beautiful. His beautifully cut, golden brown eyes were measuring as a lock of raven black hair fell into his forehead. His black battle dress couldn't hide his muscular, tall body and his huge wings made him even more intimidating.

"Y/N," Nesta's sharp voice pulled me back to reality. "Sit down."

I automatically walked to the other side of the table and sat down on the head of the table. Right between the purple-eyed one and the long-haired one.

"Y/n, this is Rhysand the Lord of the Night Court," she pointed to the man sitting next to her, who greeted me with a nod of his head. "And this is Cassian," the long-haired one held out his hand, whereupon I hesitantly took it and squeezed. This brought a smile to his face. Up close, his face was rougher, with scars in a few places and a thicker nose in one, probably from a fracture, but he was still manly handsome.

"Welcome," he greeted me in a kind voice, and I smiled.

"And this is Azriel," Feyre finally finished, pointing to the man sitting next to the frightened Elain.

Azriel. What a beautiful name.

"Welcome to our home," I told them. Nesta, however, did not calm down.

"Our sister and her friends, they have come to visit us because they need our help," she shared with me, her eyes almost sparkling. Feyre gulped nervously and glanced towards me, causing me to smile reassuringly.

"What do you need?" I asked. Rhysand stopped eating and turned to me, his violet eyes gleaming like tiny stars.

"We'd like to send a letter to the mortal queens, because we'd like to meet them," he took his glass in an elegant gesture and took a sip of wine, but didn't take his eyes off me. "We need a place to meet them and your home would be the best place to do that."

"And what's the obstacle to that?"

This was probably where my eldest sister's thread broke, because she jumped up. At this movement Azriel tensed and reached to his side, probably for his knife. Nesta walked over to Elain and put her hand on his shoulder. I followed his example, only I stepped behind Feyre.

"Dangerous," she hissed, like a snake. There was a fury in her grey-blue eyes, now directed straight at me. "We can't allow it, especially with Elain's wedding coming up.

"Yes, we can," I replied, and I was getting angry too. "Our sister has done a lot for us. Now it's time to return the favour."

Nesta pondered my words for a while. A tense atmosphere swept the dining room, and finally Nesta nodded.

"All right," she said. "But if we have any trouble with this, you'll pay for it." She pulled Elaine up from her chair and they stormed out, probably to their room.

"Seriously, only Nesta could be such an idiot as to threaten four elves," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Feyre's soft hand touched my arm.

"Y/N," she squeezed me gently. "What's that on your back?"

I knew what she was talking about. The scars had healed, but the marks on my skin from that afternoon were there forever. I remembered the mocking smiles, the shouting and the crack of the whip. The pain that burned down my back every time they struck.

"I was whipped in the square two months ago," I said softly.

Tears welled in Feyre's eyes, then she stood behind me to get a better look. My eyes met Azriel's. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't decipher. He looked away first, opened his wings slightly, then closed them again.

"Can you guys really fly?" the question burst out of me, and then I felt a blush flood my cheeks as Azriel returned his gaze to me. He looked a little surprised, but he answered.

"Yes."

I gasped and my stomach lurched at the sound of his voice. It was deep - and like the most velvety silk. I closed my eyes in embarrassment, thinking how much I wanted to hear him as he lay on top of me and pressed me into the mattress. As he kisses every inch of my body. And while he's inside me and our sweaty bodies press together. As if they weren't my own thoughts, but I was so embarrassed that I stepped away from Feyre and after wishing them a good night, I hurried to my room.

I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, a pair of golden brown eyes looked back at me. Distraught, I kicked off the covers and decided to go down to the kitchen and steal some sweets. Chocolate cake has always helped me think.

The wooden floor creaked under my feet as I stepped into the kitchen and took a slice of cake. When I turned around I gave a soft cry. Azriel was sitting at the table with a surprised look on his face, as if he hadn't expected me to suddenly appear in the kitchen.

I can understand that, it's two in the morning, I thought to myself as I glanced at the clock.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I took a seat opposite him. His eyes followed my every move.

"I'm just going to go over the letter one more time to make sure everything is in there," he cleared his throat.

I took a bite of cake just as Azriel dropped the paper on the table and rubbed his eyes.

He's tired.

With a sudden idea, I jumped up and took another fork from the drawer and handed it to him. He stared at me, startled, and finally took it from me carefully. Our fingers touched, and it was as if a spark had passed between us. I had noticed the scars on his hands at dinner, but up close they looked even more brutal.

I pushed the bowl towards him to take a bite.

"Chocolate cake always makes you feel better."

He carefully stuck a piece on his fork and popped it in his mouth.

"Thank you," he said softly, his golden brown eyes shining like stars. We ate in peaceful silence for a few minutes, then he broke the silence. "Whoever did that to your back is a monster. You have nothing to be ashamed of but him."

The fork fell from my hand in dismay, dropping loudly on the table. My throat tightened, but I tried to swallow the lump that had formed in it.

"I know," I whispered, and then before I could stop myself, I started to tell the story. "It wasn't me who was going to be flogged, it was Nesta. I merely took over for her because I knew she would never be able to live with her back looking like that." I pointed to my back, feeling my face burn.

Azriel put his hand on the table and leaned closer to me. His scent crept into my nostrils, making me dizzy and alive at the same time. My heart began to beat faster and I was sure he knew what he had triggered in me. I closed my eyes in shame and tried to control my emotions.

"You're very brave," he said. "And self-sacrificing. It seems to run in your family."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled, but he just shook his head.

"Nothing."

When our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat, the way he looked at me. His eyes were now like curdled caramel and something sparkled in them. I felt an irresistible urge to lean closer to him and wrap my arms around his muscular shoulders and kiss him, pushing my way into his hair. To sit on his lap and feel his body swelling with strength beneath me.

His shadows were swaying, just like Azriel's breath, and before I could catch my breath, I was up on the chair, reaching over and grabbing his top to pull him to me.

I kissed him.

As soon as I felt his soft lips on mine, I felt an even more intense heat that was now almost unbearable. Azriel froze for a moment, but then groaned and deepened the kiss. His mouth pressed fiercely to mine, then he put one hand on the back of my head and, still kissing me, rose to pull me over to him and sit me on his lap. I felt my heart skip a beat as his tongue slid into my mouth and gently intertwined with mine. Azriel grabbed my thigh and pushed me hard against his lap as I moaned into his mouth and grabbed his hair firmly.

"Your sister would kill me if she knew what we are doing" he panted as he pulled away for a second to let us both catch our breath. His eyes were misty with lust and I was pretty sure I looked the same way.

"Probably, but who cares?" I asked, but I was halfway through mumbling the words into his mouth, because in the meantime our mouths were twisting together again. Azriel's deep, hoarse chuckle rippled through my body and I smiled. He took my face in his hands and kissed me more slowly now, more gently. It was sweet, a kiss I'll never forget until the day I die.

I bit gently into his bottom lip before he groaned and slipped his hand under my top, onto my naked back. I tensed as he stroked my scars, but he just murmured reassuringly.

"You're beautiful," he whispered and kissed my neck, right where my pulse was pounding. "Never be ashamed of them. Think of them as a painting that shows what you've survived."

I nodded, teary-eyed, and stroked his soft curls. His pouty lips curled into a warm smile and he was about to say something, when a voice came from somewhere deep inside the house.

"Azriel, time to patrol."

Azriel didn't take his eyes off me for a moment, he just pressed a kiss to my lips without a sound.

"We'll finish this one day, Y/N," he said, then pulled me off his lap. With trembling legs, I watched as he strode towards the door, but before he turned around. His eyes, glowing with desire, promised much, which made my stomach turn and I could have sworn something seemed to caress my cheek. "Maybe not when I return, but sometime in the future and I'll show you how beautiful every inch of you is."

With that promise he left.

[azsazz]

Flame and Ash

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are the fourth Archeron sister (between Elain and Feyre). When Elain had been thrust into the cauldron it was fear that consumed her, Nesta was fueled with anger, but you, you were filled with pure hatred. 

Warnings: Smut smut smut. A Court of Mist and Fury spoilers.

Word Count: 4,634

_________________________________________

Everything you are raged in a pit of fire.

You were filled with pure anger. You’d always been a hot-headed child, blazing passion buzzed underneath your skin like electricity ever since you could remember. 

Your mother had told you once that you were irate when you came out of her, a scowl on your face and quiet as a mouse. She swore she saw the darkness in you and she had shoved you out of her arms the instant you turned that flaming gaze upon her. She had wanted nothing to do with you, so you wanted nothing to do with her.

You hated your father too, because he hadn’t done a thing for years, when you and your sisters were on the edge of starvation, only to finally find purpose once your riches were restored. A true coward, he had been. Would always be in your eyes.

Your temper held hot throughout your childhood. Your sense of trust was skewed – by what you didn’t know – and you didn’t have any friends. You didn’t need them, as you preferred to spend time with yourself, making up your own worlds in your head, exploring the woods near your home, and when your family had given up, your mother gone and your father hurt, you had gone hunting with Feyre. 

Older than her by ten months, you were nearly twins. She was pretty much the only one you could stand within your family. Her cold, stubborn personality rivaling yours like fire and ice. You both longed for something different, fueled by starvation and fear and hatred. 

But she had left you. 

Stolen away by a beast in the night and there was nothing you could do. You tried, tried to follow her but she had stopped you, told you to take care of the family. To take care of yourself.

And now she was back. A beautiful high fae standing in front of you. Her piercing eyes pleaded you to let her inside. She at least looked sorry as you stared at her, eyes lit with the fury of a thousand suns. 

When Feyre had come to your home she was different. You could tell by the way she held herself, chin high and she stood as if she were an heir to something greater than the broken family you had become. Her features elongated, sharper somehow, and you had sworn you saw a point where the rounds of her ears should’ve been before Nesta swooped you away from her. 

You should have taken me with you, her head bowed in shame as if she could hear you.

The males she was with must have noticed the look on your face, standing stiffly, keeping a cautious eye on you throughout the meal. You sat stock straight in your seat, seething, refusing to utter a single word. You had felt something crawling through your mind, but you had let your fiery hot flames lick against that scratch, and it had retreated just as fast. You glowered at Feyre’s mate, who’s brows furrowed slightly as he studied you.

The one with the blue stones encapsulated in his armor sat next to you, an ever watching eye. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, those massive wings failing to fit properly against the tall back of the seat. You watched, amused only slightly. He was silent like you, and devastatingly handsome, though you showed no blatant interest in him nor the conversation happening around you. 

They were seeking the help of you and your siblings. You nearly let out a harsh laugh at the silly request. Why did powerful high fae need the help of you and your mortal sisters?

They babied Elain when her words trembled, plastering reassuring smiles on their faces when they spoke, voices gentle as if they would scare off the terrified doe.

When the Warlord exploded, mouthing off to Nesta about how the lot of you did nothing while Feyre was the one who stepped up, your cheeks burned hot with rage. She had failed to mention that you were out there with her? That she was the key to your family's survival? Cruel, wicked sister. Your resolve cracked just a bit, clenching both your jaw and the fork in your hand at the admission, your glare cutting into the side of your sister's head, who refused to look your way. 

The bob of her throat as she swallowed was her tell. 

The male next to you, Azriel, tightened his own grip on the knife in his hand. You marked that as well. 

It had been the decision of the oldest in the end, not to remove yourselves from your home in favor of the sister that had left. Elain was engaged and you were…whatever it was you were doing alone all of the time. You grit your teeth. Everything was always about Elain.

You and Feyre both knew that. 

The glance the two of you shared, remembering the days where you’d be hunting, grumbling about your sisters came flashing into your mind. She gave you a knowing smile when your eyes lightened a bit. 

She had tried to seek you out after dinner was cleaned up. Nesta had ordered you and Elain to your rooms while she showed the high fae to their own. The eldest stopped the two of you from speaking quickly. 

As you were returning to your room from the library down the hall, a stack of novels next on your list piled high in your arms, you met the hazel eyes of the warrior, his face illuminated by his cobalt siphons. You kept walking. 

—-------

The next time you saw Feyre was when you were taken. Bound and gagged like your two sisters, shoved harshly into the ground by the soldiers who had dragged you in here.

This was some new form of hell. The King that the High Lord had warned you of, the Wolf that had taken your sister from you, her mate, they were all here. You couldn’t help but notice the limp body of the Spymaster, something twisting in your gut as you took in the dark pool of blood he was lying face-down in.

You hadn’t gone a day without thinking of him since they had come around to ask for you and your sister's help. The straight planes of his face, sharp cheekbones and perfect nose, how his fighting leathers caressed every bulge of muscle. Those brutally scarred hands. You had imagined what those fingers would feel like against your bare skin more times than you could count. He had completely captured your attention against your will.

You burned for him. 

When Elain had been dragged into the Cauldron she had been scared. Blatant fear as the icy cold water dragged her in. Her mouth opened in a gasp and the liquid rushed in, choking her. Her terror increased tenfold the longer she was held under. And in return, she had been gifted the power of sight. She could look into the future, the fear of knowing what no one else would until it was almost too late.

Nesta was all anger. She had taken what she wanted from the damned thing, a finger sticking up in defiance as she was plunged under, willing the powers of the cauldron into her as much as she could. If she couldn’t save Elain from this fate, she would sure as hell would try for you. Terrifying was the only way you could describe your eldest sister when she had fallen from the bath, her eyes white hot with rage and gone the moment next. You shuddered at the look.

The guards grabbed you but you did not scream, did not fight. It was futile, with how easily they had dragged your sisters in. You held your chin high instead, the piercing cries of your kin echoing off of the stone walls, much too loud for your ears. If this was how you were to greet death, in a cauldron filled with darkness, you welcomed it. Instead you burned inside for the excruciating end you knew you deserved.

Once your head had sunken under the water you exploded. Every ounce of hatred you had stored up rushed out of you. You thought about your neglectful mother, your useless father, everything and everyone who had wronged you. Feyre when she left. Elain and Nesta, who did nothing when all was said and done. You wanted to fight them all. You loathed the things they did. They were your family by blood only. 

You were under so long your lungs burned, a welcome feeling you grasped onto, your body tensing as it convulsed for air. There was no oxygen here, only darkness licking hot against your lungs, a warmth you had not known you were missing. You yearned for this feeling your entire mortal life, and you were now finally alive.

Unaware of what the others were seeing, a cauldron of ink boiling into white waters, smoke rising. It burned so hot the blackness of its iron outside glowed red. You were under too long for any human to survive, and even when the King of Hybern himself ordered his guards to remove you from the water, one touch from the cauldrons liquids had them screaming in pain, their hands blistering from the scalding water.

You clamped onto the side of the tub, sucking in a harsh breath of air when your head broke the surface, and you were alight with flames. An inferno of blue and white fire, licking up and down your skin, lighting the room. The others could barely stand to look at you, you burned so bright. A shocked gasp was the only noise you made as you studied your hands, lit like matches and burning out just as quick. 

Your nightgown was ash, floating in the blackened water you were still half submerged in. The soldiers didn’t dare make a move to remove you from the cauldron, so you stepped out of it yourself, hands covering as much of yourself as you could. 

At least the fae males had the decency to avert their eyes. 

It was the long red haired male – Elains…mate – that had shrugged off his coat and offered it to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and quickly moving himself a distance away. You swore you could hear the Shadowsinger growl, but when you looked over to the injured male, his eyes were closed, face contorted in pain as he held his leaking wound. 

In the end it was the High Lord of the Night Court's cousin who winnowed you and your sisters away, wrapping the three of you tightly in her arms. The swirling mist stifled you like a suffocating flame. You struggled for air once more, and in an instant you were in the middle of someone’s warm home, legs shaky while your younger sister had been left with the wolf. 

Nesta screamed her head off and Elain sobbed. You however, were silent, half in shock, half in fear for the Shadowsinger who was nearly dead. His breath rasped harshly as the High Lord winnowed himself and his brothers back to his home. Cassian’s wings were shredded to bits and Azriel barely looked alive. Rhysand himself felt like half of his heart had been ripped out of his chest with his and Feyre’s bond broken. 

You observed as Mor winnowed in healers, one by one until there wasn’t any room around the Illyrians. You could hardly see as they worked on rebuilding the Warlords wings and used their healing magic on Azriel’s wounds. You curled into the coat around you, shaking, as everyone fought or cried or yelled while you sat frozen on the ground watching with terrified eyes.

He coughed harshly, turning his head and spitting up blood before taking his first full, unstrained gasp, the flame inside of you flickering back to life. His half-lidded eyes met yours for a moment, before they dragged down your body, baring his teeth as he noticed the tunic wrapped tightly around you. Your body was on fire as his gaze licked you up and down.

“Come with us,” a reassuring voice in your ear startles you. You look up to see a beautiful fae with a soft look on her face, “I’m Naula. My sister and I will help you get cleaned up.” She nods over her shoulder to where her identical twin is trying to collect Elain, but is met with a feisty Nesta standing in her way. You look back up at her with big eyes, gaze sweeping over the Shadowsinger’s exhausted face, before agreeing, taking her extended hand to help yourself up.

You didn’t see anyone except the twins for days. 

It was strange, being high-fae. You often stared into the mirror at yourself for hours of the night, examining the unnatural smooth skin and elongated features, unable to close your eyes without seeing the hurt Illyrian lying in his own pool of blood. Your eyes were bigger, brighter, more devastatingly beautiful than you’d ever thought you could be.

You could hardly stand it.

Cerridwen had shown you to the library and you had been back nearly everyday since. It was the most beautiful room you’d ever seen. So many books there were, and you took them, devouring one after another. 

You had run into Nesta once, as she had liked to read nearly as much as you did. It was the one thing you had in common with your older sister. You had stared each other down in the middle of the aisle, your next endeavor clutched in your hands. 

“That one is good,” she had said and stepped around you, continuing on her mission to find her next novel. 

You hardly ate, the fire that was a constant in your stomach made it hard for you to. You had been unable to yield the hot flame since you had been released from the cauldron. Not that you tried.

Staring into the hearth, your current read discarded to the side, tainted from Nesta’s recommendation.

You slipped off of your chair, scooting closer to the fire burning brightly inside the fireplace. You hesitated, hand raised in front of you, and sucking in a breath you stuck it into the hearth. 

A pang of fear spiked in your chest but you did not feel a thing. The flames licked up your arm, crawling higher and higher and you scrambled back, waving it frantically, trying to put out the fire. 

A scream crawled its way up your throat as the door burst open, Azriel standing tall in the doorway, a silhouette of darkness. 

His eyes widened, alarmed. His memory triggered, flashing back to when he was a young boy, exposed to the same hot flame as you were now, except it had marred his skin forever.

His shadows shoot towards you like torpedos, wrapping around your arm furiously and stifling the flames out. He was kneeling close to you in the next second.

“Are you okay?” his words rattled through you, clanging around your head loudly. 

You don’t think you’d ever been asked that question before.

It woke something in you. With that one sentence he had pulled a loose brick from the wall you had spent your entire life building and it had all come crumbling down in an instant. You choked out a wet laugh, studying your hands. They were flawless though they had been covered in flames a few moments before while his were…they were brutal. 

It wasn’t fair.

“You should go,” you murmured, voice thick with tears. You didn’t want him to see you when the dam broke, “Lest I burn you.”

“I would let you.”

Your head snapped up, wild eyes meeting his own. His face was stoic but you could feel through his cool facade. He was a mess inside, an utterly terrified feeling coiling in his gut, you could feel the twin emotion in your own. There was something else, something that warmed you, hotter and hotter the longer he stared at you, the soft light from the hearth highlighting your features just right. 

He would. He would let you burn him alive if it meant that you even laid a hand on him. He had avoided you as long as he could because he didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you and him to end up like Elain and Lucien. But when you sent that feeling of utter fear down the bond, his resolve broke. 

And all of a sudden it made sense. 

“What is that?” Your voice trembled at the feeling. You could feel it now, a hot string inside of you. You grasped onto it and gave a gentle tug, watching as he flinched. 

“We’re mates,” he admits, watching you cautiously.

You exhale at the admission, climbing to your knees to sit opposite him. “We are?”

You couldn’t believe it. How could you have gotten so lucky? You knew you had felt something when you had met his eyes after returning to Velaris. 

All the Spymaster could do was nod. 

You raised a hand, itching to reach out and touch his skin, but you hesitated. You were afraid you would burst into flame again. He saw the indecision on your face and quickly grabbed your wrist, gentle but firm. His heart raced as he pressed it against his own cheek, reveling in the feeling of your warm skin against his. 

You held your breath. Seeing the reassurance in his eyes you slowly stroked your thumb across his cheekbone, watching his lashes flutter for a moment with the motion. He watched you as your eyes scanned his features, drinking in the sight of him as you murmured, “My mate.”

He had to clamp his hands harshly on his thighs to keep from ravishing you.

Instead, he turned his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. Your content sigh and the fire in your eyes has him breaking.

He hauls you into his arms, ignoring the slight hurt in his chest from the wound that was nearly healed. That was the last thing on his mind right now. He lays you on the unmade bed, climbing over you and caging you in, kissing you, and stealing your breath away. His lips are soft at first, tasting, savoring, the taste of you buzzing beneath his skin. 

Your hands tangle in his hair while he traces his up your nightgown, reading your body like the good little spy he is, trying to find the spots that drive you crazy. He wants to learn them and memorize them all. 

His thumbs brush against your nipples and it causes your chest to rise up, press against his and the Spymaster does it again, this time earning a moan as a reward.

You snake one of your hands down his muscled torso, covered in the fighting gear you always saw him wearing, trying to tug his shirt up. Azriel pulls away, eyes alight with desire. He strips out of the garment and nods at you to do the same but you ignore him in favor of tracing the tattoos that litter his skin, the inky tendrils wrapped around his body like you’ll be in a few minutes. 

When you look back up at him your eyes are dark and you lick your lips. He looks like he can barely hold himself back, grazing his eyes down your body. Your thin nightgown does nothing to hide your hardened nipples and the curves of your waist, rucked up so the tiniest sliver of your panties show. 

Your smile is sultry when he finally meets your gaze again. You give him a soft nod and then he’s ripping apart the silky fabric, exposing you as you gasp, aroused. Azriel uses his fingers and lips to explore your chest, nipping and biting up, letting the noises you make map his way. 

His mouth presses firmly into yours once more and your hands find the snap of his pants, fumbling to unbutton the tricky leathers. You get them loosened eventually after a frustrated minute where you knew your hands had become a blaze again, his cool shadows sweeping across your skin to blow them out. Your cheeks burn red with embarrassment and desire.

A reassuring kiss is pressed to your lips before he steps back from the bed. His eyes stay locked on you as he strips from his pants, peeling them off of his muscular thighs. His underpants go next. Your mouth dries at the bare sight of him, gloriously naked. 

His cock is hard and aching, arching away from his stomach and you spread your legs to make room for him to settle between them. He kisses his way up your thighs and you gasp at the trails of wetness he leaves behind, his shadows breezing over them lightly causing you to shudder with arousal. He makes it up to your covered pussy, kisses you through the cloth, letting his tongue flick against the fabric, the warm wetness against your own leaves you panting.

He takes them off agonizingly slow, his blunt fingernails hooking around the sides of your underwear, digging into the sensitive skin of your thighs as he drags them down. You help him, impatient, kicking your legs out of them and he chuckles darkly, massaging your inner thighs before he’s spreading you open and getting his first taste. 

You moan loudly, unashamed as he devours you, lapping your heat with his hot tongue. He hums encouragement against your clit and the sensation has you feeling dizzy. He jackknifes his tongue into you, feeling your walls clench around the muscle. He’s achingly hard, the sounds you’re making and the taste of you nearly have him rutting into the bed, but he holds himself back. He wants to wait for you.  

“Please,” you beg when he stops, and Azriel loves it, the way your voice cracks as you plead, but he waits, hands firm on your hips to keep you from writhing like you want to. Your hands find his hair again and you push against his head, urging him back towards your pussy, needing so desperately to come.

“Do you want to come now or with me?” His voice is husky with arousal, eyes devouring every move you make.

“Why not both?” you whine, trying to buck your hips up.

A sinful smirk graces his lips as he comments, “Greedy.”

You don’t even have a chance to reply before he sticks a finger into you, drawing a long keening whimper from you. It’s bliss when he adds another and then his tongue into the mix. 

There’s fire burning in your belly but it’s not a real flame, it’s the desire for your mate, for how he’s making you feel, teetering so close to the edge. You hope he can feel it, feel how he’s driving you absolutely crazy with each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers. 

His rhythm picks up and it isn’t long before you’re arching off of the bed with a warning on your lips. He doesn’t stop, somehow he goes even faster and harder until you’re coming apart at the seams, tipping over the edge into pure bliss.

He kisses your sensitive clit before making his way slowly up to your lips, tasting every inch of your skin, giving you time to recover. His hand follows, skimming over your thigh, stomach, breast, to rest against your chest atop of your pounding heart. He’s thrumming with arousal and the rapid beating of your heart only adds to it, enjoying the feeling of how fantastic he’s making you feel. 

Azriel's lips meet yours, surprising a gasp out of you as you had your eyes closed, coming down from your high. Your lips turn frantic against him, you haven’t had enough even though you’ve just come but maybe it’s because his cock is rubbing against your pussy, continuing to tease you.

Your hands slip around his waist before he knows it, tugging hard so his hips cant into yours, his dick sliding harshly against your cunt, the both of you sharing twin groans. 

He obeys, pressing in slow and smooth. He moves his hips, testing just once because you feel tight, and he’s hot, and you feel amazing around him. He thrusts again, moving nice and slow.

“Gods,” you whine, feeling utterly full. Azriel ducks down to kiss your neck and you hook a leg over his waist, craning your head to the side to give him more room once he finds that spot. You whimper when he sucks a mark, the pleasant burn of his lips lighting your skin up. 

He feels so good with you wrapped around him, pulsing and hot, and he’s panting against the delicate skin of your neck. He moves in slow and steady strokes, striving to find that perfect angle, the one that will make you curse under your breath and clutch him tighter. 

“I kept dreaming of what you would taste like, sound like, look like,” he admits after a particularly harsh thrust that has your nails biting into his shoulders. His voice is strangled from holding himself from letting go and pounding into you. “It’s so much better than I imagined.” He presses his face into your neck, kissing there.

You moan at his words, hips responding to his own. Azriel reaches up to grab your hands, fingers tangling together. He pulls his face from your neck, admiring his work before looking down into your beautiful eyes.

“Me too,” you confess, breathless. You press up into him, kissing him feverishly. The Shadowsinger finally finds the right angle, knows this by the noise you make and your fingers tightening around him. He locks it away in his mind for next time. 

He starts to thrust with intent. He knows how dangerous fire can be, oh he knows all too well, as he flexes a scarred hand in the sheets. But he finds that he likes the feeling, the burning desire twisting in his gut at the sight of you, eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth slack with ecstasy, your nails scraping down his back. 

His shadows turned each and every one of your flames to ash. He could help you learn to control it tomorrow, but for now…he has some business that needs to finish.

The Shadowsinger jackknifes into you, and you’re begging. You don’t even know what you’re asking for but he does his best to give it to you, pressing into you like you were made for him. 

And you were.

He lets your hand go, reaching down and teasing your clit once more. You’re so wet for him, and he uses that to slick his way. 

His own orgasm is coiling in his stomach, so close. His thrusts are getting erratic and faster, his hand keeping pace on your bud. He wants to speak but he can’t, too full of the intimacy you’re sharing, so instead he leans his forehead against yours, pressing you further into the pillows.

You latch onto his lips, panting heavily and pleas of his name tumble from your mouth and his name must taste good, with the way you’re crying it before you’re orgasming, clenching around him while he fucks you through it and he’s pressing tight against you and coming with his own guttural moan.

You hold him close and he collapses on top of you, refusing to pull out of you so you can feel him throbbing inside of you. You exchange soft kisses between breaths, pushing his damp hair from his forehead. For once your eyes aren’t filled with fiery hatred, no, they are blazing with pure love.