#Rhys did put guards around the

[thecatsaesthetics]

Ianthe and Tamlin are the reason Elain and Nesta were turned into fae. If people claim Feyre is the reason they should go back and reread, because Ianthe already planned to use her sisters against her from the second she appeared on page.

Ianthe and Tamlin both wanted to control Feyre’s behavior and Ianthe choose to use the people Feyre loved the most.

This fandom really loves to ignore what Tamlin and Ianthe did at the end of ACOMAF and how badly they both betrayed Feyre’s trust.

[thelov3lybookworm]

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

[solbaby7]

Put On A Show

pairing: Rhysand x reader

warnings: smut, exhibitionism, explicit language, some light degradation, i couldn’t help myself guys sorry

Summary: Rhysand brings you along as a plus one to a celebration at the Court of Nightmares and you put on a special show for your High Lord

—

High Lord of the Court of Nightmares.

Lord of Night.

Death Incarnate.

There’s no place for the teasing smiles, the playful jokes or restrained power here. All the things of Rhysand that you’d grown accustomed to was swapped out for that arrogant smirk, the pristine elegance of his attire that exuded centuries of wealth but beyond all of that; his most noticeable accessory was the ebbing darkness that seemed to loom around him. “I’m sorry for how I talk to you down there. I can’t—they can’t see me that way.”

“I promise I won’t take it personally,” You’d told him, meaning it no matter how high your brows shot up when he’d sheepishly handed over your outfit for the night.

If you could call it that.

It was basically see though, soft fabric just barely covering your breasts, criss-crossing at the stomach before settling into a skirt that barely covered your backside when you walked. Rhys had insisted on a little precaution, waving a hand and covering you in tattoos so dark it looked like the night sky was plucked from above and stamped into your skin. The intricate designs didn’t move when you touched them but anytime you’d accidentally brushed into Azriel or bumped shoulders with Mor, the ink smeared. “You marking me or something?”

It was meant as a joke but he’s serious when he answers. “Yes.”

Your roll falls into place when you’re winnowed to the front entrance of the Hewn City and instantly you understand why none of the Inner Circle came here much. The air smelled of mischief; chaos bled from the windows and greed reared its head when the High Lord sauntered through the front doors like he owned the place—he did.

The shift in the room happens quickly, guards dressed to the tee in heavy armor and swords sharp enough to disembowel with one sickening swing; men who’d fought in great battles and devastating wars, bowing to their knees at the sight of him.

This version of Rhysand eats it up, chin high and nose higher as he looked down on each and every person in attendance. Gone was the male with great dreams of peace and prosperity; dreams of a place where people of all types called home without fear of it being ripped from them at any moment.

This version of Rhysand was the fear.

He was the darkness that lurked around at night, waiting and watching patiently for his victims to slip up so he could reach out and capture them in his dark web. “All of this, for me?” The High Lords voice clears across the room easily with everyone so silent, heads bowed and the few who’d bravely raised their eyes to feast on a slice of your skin was met with the silent threat of death by the shadowsinger that followed your flank. “I’m flattered.”

The High Lord sits comfortably in his thrown, legs spread wide and arms lazily spread out on the sides. For the first time since you’d gotten here, he looks at you, beckoning you forward with a cocky little jerk of his head and only when you stand before him does he allow the others to rise. “You sit.” He tells you though, gesturing proudly to the spot on his lap and you resist the urge to see other people’s reactions when you obey.

Despite the dark ambiance, something about the unsettling atmosphere intrigued you; eyes catching over carefully carved dragons with wings that seemed never-ending as it curved around the walls, the crown moulding and ceiling like it was preparing to take flight and burst through the roof. The citizens of the Hewn City, you find are equally as unsettling; groups of people coming up to bow and greet their High Lord, shamelessly taking in the ample curves left on display by your flimsy attire. “Pretty, isn’t she?” The Lord of Darkness questions after a moment, violet eyes fixed on the curve of your spine before settling on the armored male to the left.

The male swallows thickly, his gulp audible when he nods just barely. “Yes, High Lord.”

Rhys hummed in agreement, the back of his hand beginning to trace the curve of your shoulder when you hear some muffled voice coughing out “whore”. The touch leaves and that ebbing darkness grows again, robbing the man who’d dare utter the syllables of his breath. The man’s hands reach for his throat, eyes wide as his mouth gapes open and closed like a fish plucked out of the water and you don’t place your hand on the High Lords chest until the man’s face is a unusual shade of blue. “Aw, let him go. He’s just mad you’ve got me all to yourself,” You lean in closer, voice sultry and a little bored when you settle deeper into his chest. “Poor bastard probably doesn’t even know what to do with his equipment under all that armor.”

Another best of time passes before you hear the desperate gasp behind you and the feeling that washes over you when seeing the part of Rhysand he kept hidden—the all powerful Lord of Destruction ready to ruin anyone in his way.

Lust.

The man is forgotten, carried away by his friends and briefly you notice Cassian and Mor drifting off into the crowd. Azriel remains close by, a healthy enough distance away for you to feel confident enough to grind down on the thick thigh between your legs.

“You should stop that,” The words rumble against your bare back a half a minute later, hands dripping tight at your hips to still the movements. “Unless you plan on giving them a show.”

A brow raises and your neck craned to look Rhysand in the eye, the smirk pulling on your mouth matching the same one he’d seen every time he stepped foot in this city of violence and deviant morals. “Would that please you, Lord of Darkness?”

Rhysand goes still and for a moment you expect him to deny you, hands bracing yourself to get off and apologize when his grip keeps you in place. You can’t look away when he drags your hips on his thigh the same way you had before, inky pupils devouring violet irises when you let out a breathy moan.

It captures attention and you notice Azriel step a little closer—for further protection or to watch you can’t tell and you don’t care to figure it out when a shudder runs up your spine at the delicious drag hard muscles against your clothed cunt.

Your body burns with want when your High Lord grabs a handful of your ass, forcing you to ride his thigh faster, moans spilling out like summons to the dark creatures that lurked about the Court of Nightmares. “You look so pretty like this,” His voice is gruff, raspy and he’s quick to call upon dark power, a cool sensation spreading over your skin where it touched.

“Fuck,” The curse drags on your tongue, eyes clamping shut when your orgasm washes over you, no longer caring about the eyes that burned holes into your body. No doubt every fae or creature alike could smell the scent of your arousal permeating the air but where embarrassment was supposed be was relief.

The bulge in the High Lords pants is evident, a hand sneaking down to cup it through the expensive fabric. “You think the citizens of the Hewn City want to watch their High Lord fuck his girl?”

The sound of a button popping open, a zipper sliding down and a hand settles around your throat. “Deliciously filthy thing, you are.” The top of your dress falls apart and you’re certain Azriel can see everything when Rhysand fished his cock free. “Let’s find out.”

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Nine

Summary: Y/n is desperate to try and get home, willing to face near death again to try if she must. Azriel is not willing to let her risk herself, and fortunately neither is the rest of his family.

Warnings: she’s a little angsty

Series Masterlist

-Part Nine-

“You’re not trying it again,” Azriel snarls, arms crossed over his chest, “We don’t even know what went wrong in the first place, you could’ve died.”

Y/n sighs, rubbing her temples, they’d been at this for hours now, surrounded by the inner court. So far, no one seemed to be on her side, least of all Azriel. As soon as the words had left her mouth he’d been seething, that quiet calm mask replaced by burning rage.

“Give me the book of breathings and I’ll figure it out,” Y/n snaps back, bearing all of her teeth at him, “I must have misread something. Maybe the ancient busy body will have answers for me.”

“You’re not going anywhere near that book!”

“Az, chill out,” Cassian says, gripping his brother’s arm, “Let’s all calm down and think for a damn moment.”

Y/n slumps into her seat, glaring at Azriel as he paces on the other side of the table, the only thing keeping them from lunging at each other and tearing out each other’s throat. He glares right back, shadows whipping around him like they might grab her and strap her to the very seat she sits on to keep her from trying the spell again.

“Azriel’s right,” Feyre sighs, “That book was holding you hostage, and the book of breathings has done the same to me, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt again, or worse.”

“I’m not a child in need of your protection,” Y/n says, ice cold and guarded.

“No,” Amren says then, “But you are stranded and in need of our help. We will not risk ourselves because you want to foolishly run head first to your death.”

“Y/n, it’s in your best interest to take it slow, and let us help you,” Rhys chimes in, “I felt something when you opened that portal, something dark, powerful. There’s something out there, and whatever it is took an interest in out dear Y/n here.”

Y/n’s shoulder lock up, and Azriel’s glare turns to ice, “You already knew that didn’t you?”

“What was it?” Nesta leans on the table, steely eyes staring directly into Y/n’s soul.

“I don’t know,” she says, holding that piercing gaze, not backing down an inch, “I heard something, when I was trapped. Something cold and wicked.”

“What did it say?” Azriel demands, stepping closer to the table that separates them, multiple times in the last hour she’d been half tempted to leap across that table and fight it out with teeth, fists, and daggers, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes, and she can see the exact moment it crawls beneath his skin, he looks half tempted to strangle her, “It’s kind of hard to talk when you’re to busy shoving your tongue down my throat.”

“I’m sorry,” Mor says, looking at Az with wide eyes, “What?”

“Listen, princess.” Azriel leans on the table, ignoring Mor, ignoring the rest of his family who look between the two with varying degrees of alarm, “I don’t give a shit about this whole, I’m tougher than the world act, you’re scared and I know it, I can fucking see it, so go ahead and tell me what the fuck it said.”

She practically hisses at him, leaning forward in her seat, arm in casual reach of the blade at her thigh, “You don’t fucking know me, shadowsinger.”

“That’s enough,” Feyre snaps, “if you two can’t be civil together one of you can get out.”

Azriel looks ready to argue but one sharp glare from his high lady has him backing down. He turns on his heal, taking three long strides away from the table, putting distance between them like it would cool the raging flames in their eyes.

“What did you hear?” Feyre asks calmly, that air of dominance in her voice, High Lady, a queen in her own right.

Y/n holds her head high, meeting Feyre’s eyes, she may not be a queen but one day she would be, and she would bow to no one, “It told me to pay the price, gods killer’s kin.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Cassian asks, “Why can’t these things just say what they mean?”

“When my mother banished the gods to that hell realm to die,” Y/n says, “It would seem not all of them did. And whoever survived is demanding the price my mother was supposed to give.”

“And what price is that?” Azriel’s voice is deadly soft.

She could feel the anger radiating off of him, not necessarily at her, not necessarily not at her. He was angry that she’d nearly died, that she was willing to do it again if it meant going home. He was angry at her for being so damn stubborn that she wouldn’t listen, that she wouldn’t let him play protective fae male. She was angry to, so gods damned angry at the Wyrd for handing her this fate. For bringing her here in the first place, for putting her in their lives, in his, only to take her away again.

“My life.”

Azriel felt the words echo through him, bouncing around in his skull, each syllable cracking another piece of him until he was on the verge of shattering. My life, my life, my life, her life, her life, her life, her, her, her. Sharp stabbing pain in his chest like each word was a ash arrow through his sternum and directly into the heart beneath.

“No.”

“You don’t-“

“No,” he growls again, gaze matching Y/n’s, fire and ice pushing and pushing against each other to create a storm.

“We don’t know what this thing is,” Rhys interjects, “If it’s an actual god like thing, one of Quinlann’s Asteri, or something else entirely. Amren will search that dreadful book for answers about the gate. You two, will sit and calm the fuck down, and the rest of us will get back to work.”

The High Lord’s voice held an air of finality, no room to argue, even Y/n slumped in her seat, letting some of the cold fire go out. Amren is up and out the door as soon as Rhys stands, grumbling something beneath her breath about ungrateful little girls that has Y/n glaring between her shoulders like she was imagining that dagger strapped to her thigh buried between them.

“It will be alright, Y/n” Feyre lays a gentle hand on the female’s shoulder, “We will get you home, and if this god wants a fight, we will give it one.”

Azriel notes the shattered and broken look in Y/n’s eyes as she nods at his High Lady. He is so busy examining each of her motions that he doesn’t notice his family file out, doesn’t notice the concerned eyes and subtle glances between him and the female before him. She won’t look at him, he can tell she is actively trying not to meet his gaze. Fine, if she wanted to play the silent game, he’d play it and he’d win. They were going to have this out one way or another.

He sits across from her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes searching her face for any motion, but she sits still, that absolute fae stillness that looks like she isn’t even breathing. If it wasn’t for the steady beat of her heart in his ears he would think she wasn’t.

They sat there in silence, neither willing to be the one to break first. She stares at the wall beyond him, he stares at her face.

The tension in the room is suffocating, Azriel’s shadows are the only movement, the only sound, whispering in his ears, she’s upset, help her, comfort her. He wants to scream, to tell them to mind their own business.

He knows she’s upset, he knows and there’s a part of him that wants to take her into his arms and hold her, to tell her it’s alright and that he’d help her figure it out, but there’s an even bigger part of him that wants to keep yelling, to grab her and shake her till she stops and actually listens to him. He wishes he was like Rhys, that he could go into her mind and show her what she had looked like, trapped in that spell, he wishes he could show her the terror in his heart. How could she be so gods damned stubborn that she would even think to try it again, to put herself through that again, to put him through it again. Because if she did it, he would be right there beside her, and he would burn all over again to keep her safe.

Both of them were to stubborn to break first, they sat there for nearly an hour before Azriel stood, that far away look in his eyes that meant Rhys was talking to him in his head. He didn’t say anything to Y/n, only sending her a warning look before stalking out the doors and jumping from the balcony. She was half tempted to follow, to take her talons directly into his back, to get the fight she’d been itching to have with him. Instead she sat there, staring at that same blank space on the wall, mind spiraling down and down into that dark portal that ate up the Walking Dead book.

She wishes she still had it, that she could figure out how it all went wrong. She was so sure she’d copied those marks perfectly, spelling out the name of her home meticulously. Orynth, Terrasen, she’d learned how to write out the name in the Wyrd marks as a child, she knew it like the back of her hand. It should’ve worked, the gate should’ve worked.

When it had opened, she swore she could feel home on the other side, lands of pine and snow, the smell of the kings flame blooming across the mountains. It was right there, just beyond her reach, and that was when she’d felt it, when there had been something else, something dark that took her mind and whispered those words. Which god had survived, which one now demanded her death, she wasn’t sure. Quite frankly she didn’t want to know.

Whoever it was, they were angry, angry at her mother for what she had done, for the deaths of the other gods, and for that, they would take the one thing her mother cherished beyond anything else, Y/n. They would take her, using the power in her blood to make the lock that would bring them home, squeezing every last drop of life from her till there was nothing left.

Azriel knew he was going to walk into the River house and be bombarded, the question was, who would get to him first.

“Who needs a babysitter now?”

He glares at his brother, “Shut up, Cassian.”

“No, no, I’m going to enjoy this,” Cass grins at him, “I’m surprised you actually came down here, with way you two were staring each other down I was sure there would be some rough-“

Azriel sends him a warning snarl, “Watch it.”

Cassian only grins wider, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve never seen someone get under you skin like that. I’m surprised it took this long for, how’d did she put it? For your tongue to end up down her throat.”

Azriel was seconds away from sending his fist into his brothers face when Rhys opens his office door, “I’m surprised you’re not in a bed right now.”

Cassian’s roaring laughter fills the hall way and Azriel doesn’t hold back the fist he sends straight into Cassian’s stomach. His brother breathlessly laughs, even as he doubles over. Rhys’s eyes sparkle in amusement and Azriel sends him a look that dares him to say anything else.

“Why did you call me down?”

The High Lords humor vanishes just like that, it’s enough to even sober up Cassian, “Amren found something.”

No, no, no, no, “What is it?”

“The book of breathings was very talkative, it kept telling her that the storyteller should have heeded its warnings,” Rhys sighs, leaning against the door way, “With enough snarling Amren was able to wring a solid answer out of it.”

Azriel felt like throwing up as he asked, “What did it say?”

Rhys gives him a look, one that seems pleading, “That the Wyrd brought her here for a reason, as a gift to her, and it was angry at her for not accepting it.”

Cassian sighs, “What does that mean. What gift?”

There’s a moment where Azriel thinks Rhys won’t answer. Whatever it was, Az isn’t completely sure he wants to know. Whatever that wretched book had to say, it couldn’t be good.

“Fate brought Y/n here as a gift to her,” Rhys says again, taking a deep steadying breath, “Brought her here as a gift to her and her mate.”

Everything went quiet, the air, the best of his heart, quiet. No sound, no breaths, nothing. Just that word, mate, her mate.

“Az.”

He didn’t know who said it, Rhys, Cassian, his shadows, he didn’t know, he couldn’t hear beyond the echo of the word, mate, mate, mate, mate.

“Who?” He chokes on it, drowns in it, mate, mate, mate, “Who is it?”

He could feel it, like a tendril of shadow that reaches far far above the city, to the red cliffs, to the house carved into it’s side.

Rhys gives him a pitying look, “Brother, who do you thi-“

A soft tug, on that shadow, so faint it feels like it slips between his fingers.

“Who?” He pleads, breaking beneath it, mate, mate, mate, “Please.”

He collapses beneath the weight, knees digging into the soft plush rug beneath him. His brothers don’t move, they let him get crushed beneath the word.

“The book said it was a gift,” his brother whispers, “a gift to the storyteller and the shadowsinger.”

Mate, mate, mate, mate. That tendril of shadow firmly in his grasp, and on the other side, sits a storm of ice and fire. His mate, sits on the other side, high above him in the House of Wind, mate, mate, mate, mate, mate.

She is his mate.

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[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All To Well Chapter 1 Part 1)

Cassian X OC (Rhys' Sister), Eris VanserraX OC Rhys' Sister (Eventually)

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, dub con, whipping, poisoning, murder (I think this covers it if I missed something please let me know). Longing for loved ones, while in captivity.

A/N: This was going to be extremely long if I didn't break this up in two parts and I really wanted to get something out to you since I had been teasing this so much!

Word Count: 4.1K

All Too Well Masterlist ACOTAR MasterList

Romeo Save Me

“Hello Beautiful,” Amarantha cooed, circling around Rhysand's baby sister, Estella. The raven haired female held her chin high. “Rhysand, you didn't tell me you had a sister.” Estella's eyes glanced over to her brother. If he was panicked he didn't show it.  Amarantha tsked, “Naughty boy, no matter she'll make a fine addition to the court.” Amarantha purred as her eyes grazed the black gown the Princess of the Night Court wore. The silver chains connected the two pieces of fabric at her hips revealing her toned, tanned legs, the neckline dipping to expose her stomach. A tiara of black and purple gems placed upon her head. An outfit she wore in the Court of Nightmares.

Did you know about this? Estella questioned her brother in the part of his mind he kept open for her.

If I did do you think I would have brought you here. Cassian begged me not to. I should have listened.

Amarantha snapped her fingers and the young princess felt hands grip her arms tightly, as fear flooded her system as the dreaded footfalls of the attor came into her line of sight.

Rhys…

I'm here, Little Star.

Estella glanced at the Attor's talon like hand. Faebane. Estella pressed her lips in a tight line, Rhys I'm scared.

She glanced over at his face and found no emotion there, the tick of his jaw the only indication that he was worried. Stay calm. I'm here, Stella. Just breathe.

Before Estella could take in a breath the Attor pinched her nose and instantly she began to struggle in the guards arms. The Attor's smile was sinister and would be the center of the young heir’s nightmare's to come. “Come now, Princess, open for me.

Estella, refused to open her mouth, her piercing blue eyes met the Attor's in pure defiance. Breaking eye contact she looked back to her brother to find Amarantha had wrapped her arms around Rhys pressing his back to her front as if it were a lover's embrace. “Come dear, don't be stubborn, or I may have to punish my new treat here.” She dragged a manicured finger down her brother's exposed chest and Estella maintained eye contact with the self proclaimed High Queen, as she nibbled his ear. To Rhysand's credit he didn't react to her advances he just stared at his Little Star.

Estella's lungs began to burn and her vision began to blacken around the edges and she opened her mouth to take her breath. Wasting no time the Attor poured the liquid down her throat, still pinching her nose as she had no choice but to swallow.

“Wonderful, guards take her away.” Estella watched as she planted a kiss on his cheek another tick in his jaw as they began to haul her away. “Don't worry Rhysand, We'll make sure she is comfortable and well taken care of.”

Before she let the panic settle in her bones she reached out to Rhysand once more; Rhys we need to put up the wards. Keep Velaris safe. Keep him safe. We have to do it before the faebane takes effect.

On my count Rhys voice echoed through there she could feel the beginning of the Faebane taking effect.

1…2…3…

Estella threw out her power to siphon the wards, draining to the dregs and she could hear the pounding of her shields. A familiar presence in the back of her mind.

Cassian she spoke in his mind.

Stella sweetheart, what's going on? His voice sounded distant in her mind as the poison was taking hold and she was being hoisted away.

It'll be okay. I'll be okay. Watch over Velaris for me won't you, General?”  The young heir could feel her power suppressing itself. As if her power was trying to combat the drug coursing through her veins.

No I'm coming to get you his voice roared through Estella's mind though it sounded as though he was talking to her underwater. She fought back tears that were stinging in her eyes.

I love you, Cassie. Then she felt the connection being severed and she allowed herself a few tears escape her eyes as she was ripped away from her home, her family, her lover.

We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

“I don’t want to train.” Estella whined dragging her feet as Rhys held a firm grip on her hand as they approached the camp.

Frustration bubbling over Rhys turned around and gently cupped her cheeks. “My Little Star, I love you, I promised Father, Mother, and Astrea that I would protect you.” Estella fought her flinch at the mentioned, of their dead family members. Rhys tenderly brushed a strand of hair that fell loos from her plait and tucked it behind her pointed ear. “I almost lost you once. I won't let it happen again. Could you please try training with my friends? If you don't like it, then I'll leave it alone. I just need you to try.”

Estella quirked a brow as she stared into his pleading violet eyes. With a roll of her eyes and dramatic sigh she replied, “Promise?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Promise.”

With a slight tilt of her head, Rhys led her to the two Illyrian warriors that were standing at the center of the fighting ring. The young heir had yet to meet her brother's friends but had heard stories about his “brothers.” The two were giants compared to her, both warriors wore seven siphons a piece. The shorthaired one with blue siphons, Estella had seen in passing in Velaris before her brother became High Lord, his shadows were hard to ignore. She had never uttered a word to the Shadowsinger but heard his name whispered by the maids in their home: Azriel.

The warrior with the red siphons had his hair up in a bun, his wings rustled as the wind kissed them. His hazel eyes met her pale blue eyes and gave her a toothy grin that caused her heart to quicken. “Finally nice to formally meet the Princess of Velaris.” His deep voice seeped into her bones and warmth pooled in her belly.

Estella then scrunched her nose, “Don't call me that.”

The long-haired Illyrian smirked stalking forward, causing Estella to crane her neck to hold his pointed gaze. “What would you have me call you, Sweetheart.” Heat warmed her cheeks at the pet name.

“I'll call you a dead male, if you keep staring at my sister like that, you prick.” Azriel snorted at Rhys' response. “Stella, the shameless flirt in front of you is Cassian. The stoic one fighting his laughter is Azriel. I'm sure you've seen him around. Gentlemen, this is Stella.”

Cassian's leather clad hand picked up Estella’s and brought her knuckles to his lips, “A pleasure, Sweetheart, if you're ever tired of big brother Rhysie, come find me and we can play.” Rhys growled, as Cassian gave the young female a wink. She gave him a smile in return, then averted her gaze to focus on anything else.

Maybe training wouldn't be so bad after all.

I Got Tired of Waiting

A hand grazed Estella's waist. Sipping from her goblet staring at the High Queen, wearing the Night Court tiara that she ripped from the Princess' head when they first arrived 49 years ago. A male from the summer court pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Warm my bed tonight, Angelfish.” His breath was sour, and Estella took a sharp breath as his hand gripped her barely covered ass.

She turned into his touch, breaking her gaze from the queen who was kissing her brother's neck. Placing her hand on the male's bare tanned chest, “It would be my honor.” She gave her best seductive grin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Bile rose in her throat, a feeling she had grown accustomed to since being there.

The male gripped her ass tighter, “I will retrieve you from your cell when I'm ready for you.” He whispered on her lips as if he was her lover. Another wave of nausea burned her esophagus as he pressed his lips to hers once more. A warm memory of kind Hazel eyes, calloused hands with red siphons atop them, and soft plush lips caressing hers bubbled to the surface. Estella forced the memory back down as the male swatted her bare flesh and walked away.

“Stella dear,” Amarantha's drawl felt like a snake slithering up Estella's spine. The young female met the Queen's gaze, her brother by her side his face a mask of cool indifference. “Come here.” Gritting her teeth the heir of the Night Court approached the dais her chin jutted out, the tiara on her head gleaming with the colors of her court. Trying to keep a semblance of dignity, though Amarantha's insistence that the top that only covered her breast and the gossamer skirt that barely covered her ass made her feel less than.

With the snap of the queen's fingers a male approached with a female their hands linked. Estella bowed, aware that her skirt was revealing more than she wished to the fae behind her. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Rise, dear, I have a gift for you.” Estella rose and the couple with their hands linked together smiled in her direction.

Breathe, Little Star Rhys' voice filler her head, Inhale she breathed in, Exhale she released the breath.

“This couple,” Amarantha's voice bellowed out, “Wishes for someone to join them in their bed this evening. You will go and they will do as they please with you.”

Shock flooded her system, so that was what her role was to be concubine…Cassian's face came to the surface and guilt laced her whole body. He will understand, Stella. We are not in a position to fight this.

Bullshit. The princess shook her head, “I will not, your majesty.” She held her head high. I cannot betray him like this, I will not. I'm sorry, Rhys.

Estella! Rhys scolded

Amarantha sneered, “I don't recall it being a request.”

Estella straightened her spine, “I don't care,” she retorted defiantly. “I will not lay down in someone's bed for their amusement.”

Amarantha rose from her throne her dark crimson skirts draping to the floor similar to blood dripping down a body. The Queen approached and Estella refused to cower. Amarantha approached her mouth upturned into a saccharine grin that appeared the most sinister. “Are you defying my direct orders, Princess?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very Well, Rhysand, bring me the Ash whip.” Color drained from Estella’s face. Her brother approached whip in hand and his mouth formed into a tight line. “Thank you, now you will give her 10 lashes for her disobedience.” The siblings heads whipped to the evil witch next to them. “Is that going to be a problem, Rhysand. I figured she would learn her lesson best if it was given to her by someone she cares for. Wouldn't you agree?”

Estella then met Rhysand's eyes, “I do, Your Majesty.” Turn around and close your eyes, Little Star. She did as Rhys told her and the crack of the whip wrung out in the entire hall. With each sting of whip against her skin, and whimper that slipped from her mouth, Rhys’ voice rang in her mind.

I'm Sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

By the end Amarantha had ripped the crown from atop of her head, and the couple had carried her to their room and in spite of her bleeding back, had taken her, over and over again, until she passed out from the pain, where hazel eyes and dark long hair greeted her.

Romeo Take Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Estella sat up as the male swiped lazy circles around her stomach, “Would you like some tea?” She asked placing her hand on top of his stalling the movements.

The male hummed his eyes glazed from his orgasm. “That would be wonderful, Angelfish.” He gave a lazy smile that the young female returned and rose to gather her clothes and began preparing him a cup of tea. “Amarantha is generous to share you.” He praddled on as Estella placed the kettle over the flame, grabbing her tea mixture she made a few weeks prior. “I know she has her own whore that warms her bed.” Estella clenched her teeth as he kept talking, “Only to give the court his sister. Truly a gift.”

Estella closed her eyes as she schooled her voice in a calm manor, “I am happy to serve  my queen and my court in whatever way is needed.” The words fell to ash on her tongue and tears burned her eyes as the kettle sung to life.  Grabbing the kettle she brought it over to the cup with the tea mixture in it. Pouring the hot water and letting the tea steep for 2 minutes, Estella brought the tea to the male, “Here you go, Darling,” She purred. She slipped into his mind easily his mental shield down, Drink all of it for me. The male did as he was told and she cooed in his ear, “Good boy.” She ran her fingers through his light brown curls as his eyes began to droop.

A half hour went by, and Estella leaned over the male’s face, and found that his breathing had ceased and she could no longer hear his heartbeat. She patted his cheek, “This has been fun, Angelfish.” She got dressed and snuck out of his room and ran right into a finely dressed chest. She looked up and inwardly groaned, “Eris.” Estella tried to step around the Heir of the Autumn court when he stepped in front of her.

He smirked his russet eyes that glimmered with mischief, “Hello, Estella. Tell me how my Little Viper is, today?”

She glared at him, “I thought I told you not to call me that, Princeling.”

Eris grinned, “Well I can’t help myself. Tell me who was your victim today.”

Estella sighed, “No one of importance.”

Eris eyes darkened his fist clenched for a moment, “I highly doubt that.”  

The princess of Night lowered her head slightly, “If I’m not back in my cell, I could be subject to a lashing so if you don’t mind, your highness.”

Eris slid out of her way, “Have a good night, My little Viper.” Estella shivered but moved past the red-haired Prince, without another word. winding the halls to her cell. Not noticing the Autumn prince sneaking into the room she came out of.

She arrived in her cell, and she found Rhysand standing in the middle of it. “Hey, you.” she said as she stepped onto the threshold of her prison.

“Hey, Little Star. How are you faring?” Rhys looked her up and down, assessing for injuries.

“Fine as always brother,” She got jittery and despite needing to put on appearances she hugged him. He wrapped her arms around her tightly. “I’m exhausted Rhys.” She whispered into his chest.

He pressed his hand to the back of her head and rocked her, “I know. I’m so sorry. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret trying to get you home. Or never bringing you to the Hewn City that day.” He whispered into her hair.

I miss them, Rhys. I miss him.

I know you do. I miss them too. “Tomorrow is Calanmai. Amarantha has granted me to leave.” Estella pulled away from her brother to stare at him and he read her face and shook his head speaking into her own, I can’t risk you being hurt because I attempted to escape. I won’t do it. It’s bad enough I have had to hurt you.

I don’t blame you; you know. She whispered in her mind.

I do…She makes me fuck her with your crown on...

Estella stilled at the brashness of his words, “Rhys...”

He hushed her as he kept her in his arms, “It’s okay.”

Will you stay with me tonight?

I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Rhysie, please. Estella smiled slightly as he sighed.

I can’t deny you anything. Brat.

Rhys led her to the pile of hay in the corner of the cell and laid her down. The princess pressed her cheek against his heartbeat and Rhys began to rub her back. The two siblings sat in silence for a few moments. “Can you play the music for me, Rhys?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Sure thing. Close your eyes.”

Estella closed her eyes, “I love you.”  Music began to play inside her mind, the musicians at the rainbow began to build their symphony and tears welled in her eyes.

Rhys’ voice was strained as he responded, “I love you too. Sleep. I will be here in the morning.”

Estella was beginning to be pulled into slumber when she mumbled, “No one likes a liar, Rhys.” And she fell unconscious to the sounds of her brother chuckling.

Beggin You Please Don’t Go

“You are not leaving this bed!” Cassian pulled her waist dragging her back closer to him the warmth of his bare tattooed chest seeping into her bones. “I don’t need to leave for Windhaven until tomorrow. It’s cruel that Rhys would prevent you from spending the rest of today with me.” He kissed her cheek hips moving down the slope of her neck. “I want to be with my girl.”

Estella giggled as he nibbled her neck, his hands clinging to her waist tightly as if the General of the Night Court Armies were afraid, she would slip from his fingers. “Cass, I need to make an appearance in Hewn City. Apparently, Rhys has been getting shit for it from Keir.”

Cassian turned her to face him. He caressed her cheek gently, “I could care less about Keir. I hate it when you’re there when I can’t be.”

“Because you’re an overprotective bat?” Estella quirked a brow and smirked that the general pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled and kissed her nose, “No, you brat. I just don’t want to be separated from you. Especially when you’re in a place with cruel males that look at you like you’re their next meal.”

She looked laughed, “So an overprotective bat.”

Cassian’s grin was laced with mischief, “Overprotective bat?” He began to tickle the young raven-haired female. Her laughs filled their shared space, “I’ll show you an overprotective bat.” He pinned her back to the mattress and continued her assault on her waist, his fingers tickling her to the point of tears sliding down her eyes. He began pepper kisses over her face picking up her tears.

“Cassian, I yield.” Estella panted and she tapped her hand on his forearm. He stopped and leaned down pressing his forehead to hers. “I yield.” She whispered.

“I can’t help being protective you know.” He whispered in return. There was a long-delayed pause, his eyes growing distant.

Estella growled, “Had I known you wanted Rhys’ attention so bad I would have shifted into him.” Cassian shook his head and flicked her nose and she smiled, “What did he say?”

Cassian sighed as he pressed his lips to hers, “That I can beat the shit out of him when you both come home.”

Estella’s brow furrowed, “I never wanted you two to be at odds, Cass.”

Cassian smiled and interlaced his large hand over hers, “Sweetheart, we have been friends for centuries, he’s stuck with me.” He kissed her nose once more, “Just like you are.” He grinned and she found herself smiling too. “I love that smile of yours.”

She tilted her head, “What else do you love about me?”

Cassian kissed her forehead, “I love your eyes,” He kissed her cheek and Estella closed her eyes. “Your lips.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Your kindness,” He pecked her jaw line, “Your compassion.” His lips moved to her neck, “Your bravery,” moved to the collarbone. “You, Sweetheart. I love you.”

The princess opened her eyes, “I love you too, Cassian.”

And I love you two, as well, but Cassian please get off my sister we must leave soon. Rhys’s voice filled our minds and the two of us laughed as Cassian placed another kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be home before you’re able to miss me, General.” Estella whispered.

Cassian sighed and placed his head in the crook of her neck. “I always miss you, Stella.”

You Were Everything to Me

The human girl was hanging against the wall, her fear flooding her scent. This was the human girl that Rhys had found in Tamlin’s court. Estella had a hard time breathing. As the Attor unleashed another attack on the girl. Rhysand was standing by Amarantha, his face emotionless, and Estella wanted to scream to lash out, to save this girl from the torment. She wrapped her arms around herself, as the screams of the human girl rang out.

Estella released a whimper when a smooth warm hand gripped the female’s hip. The scent of Autumn leaves and cinnamon overtook her senses. His thumb rubbed a circle around her bare hip. “Come to my chambers tonight, Little Viper.” Eris breath grazed her pointed ear.

Estella gritted her teeth, fighting away the tears as the sound of the broken screams rang in her ears while the Attor continued his torment, “Why? Why do you insist on tormenting me, Eris? Mor wasn’t enough for you?”

Eris’ hand stilled, his nose grazed her skin, and her heart raced. “What do you know about that day, really, My Little Viper?” He held her close to him, “I expect you in my chambers when this is done, Estella. I mean, immediately after, no getting those cute little concoctions from your cell first. Or I may let our High Queen know about what you like to do to the males who request your services.” He gripped her hip tighter than her and smirked as a spark of arousal flooded her.  The feeling singed away when he removed his hand, and Estella reluctantly missed the comfort of his touch, as the human girl gave out a gurgled scream, causing the young female’s blood to run cold.

Hours of torment and Estella knew that those screams would haunt her forever. Her bare feet padded through the halls as an Autumn court sentinel led her to the Heir of Autumn’s chambers. When they reached the door Estella bowed her head, “Thank you.” She whispered and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Eris’s voice muffled. The raven-haired beauty stepped inside, the red gown with a blunging neckline swished at her feet. “Hello, Viper.”

“Prick.” She retorted; her sharp blue eyes met his copper liked ones. “Let’s get this over with.” She began to pull the straps of her gown down when Eris raised his hand.

“I have no interest in sleeping with you Viper.” Eris rose from his chair; his orange vest lay over top his white tunic hugging his frame. His tanned pants tucked into his brown boots that looked as though they were recently shined. His red hair pulled halfway, and Estella couldn’t deny that he was the most beautiful man she had ever encountered, but he was a wild card and lethal and made Estella’s heartbeat erratically when he closed the distance between them. “I would like to keep my life intact thank you.”

Estella swallowed and her voice low, “Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

Eris didn’t answer, instead his hands gripped hers and he pulled her into an embrace. The female blinked as Eris gripped her tightly. The kind gesture so foreign to her from anyone other than her brother in 50 years and the emotions erupted in her. She gripped the back of his vest and buried her face in his chest and erupted into sobs. Estella had no idea why he was doing this, or how he knew she needed this, but for this moment she allowed herself the comfort of letting out a half a century worth of feelings into his chest. As Eris rested his head atop hers, hand stroking her dark hair. His other hand rubbing her back almost soothingly.

After a few moments Eris picked her upholding her knees and her back and walked her over to the bed and he leaned against the headboard as the Princess of the Night Court sobbed into the chest of the Prince of the Autumn Court. The latter whispered soothing words in her ear and warmed his hands as an extra comfort for the Princess until exhaustion took over and the viper fell asleep in the arms of the fox.

Part 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357

[nikethestatue]

Elriel's Bond

“Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten.

I twisted—only to have the king’s guards grab me from behind. Rhys was instantly there, but Azriel shouted, back arching as the king’s poison worked its way in.

So I just saw this and as I read it, I jumped up and needed to run here to type this our.

“Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten.

The 'prettier one' is Elain. But who shouts, when she is being taken away and possibly murdered? Azriel.

And who's 'forgotten'? Mor.

The scene is centered around those 3 people, with Feyre observing it.

(Afterwards, she specifically observes Cassian and his reaction to Nesta being thrown in, pairing off those two in her mind).

However, in this scene, we have Elain, we have Azriel and we have Mor--Mor, who is viewed as the biggest obstacle to Elriel, because of Azriel's supposed feelings for her.

Let's recall another scene, where another person was shot with Faeabane: as Feyre tends to the severely wounded Rhysand (whom she found because she was driven insane by her bond, urging her to go after him and putting her into a frenzy), she starts speaking about her sisters. And what does she say? "And I think Elain would like it too. Only she would cling to Azriel for some peace and quiet."

And then she thinks in her head:  I smiled at the though- at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped loving Mor." 

Let's jump back to the Hybern scene again:

“Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten.

Azriel, who is shot with Faebane, screams when Elain is put into the Cauldron. Mor already forgotten--is this the most glaring way of SJM hinting at the monumental change that's occurred with Azriel and his feelings towards Mor?

Let's read the whole sentence, without Feyre's part in there:

“Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten. But Azriel shouted, back arching as the king’s poison worked its way in.

The King says put Elain into the Cauldron and what's interesting is that the poison of Faebane is called 'the king's poison'.

What if at that point, Azriel shouted because he felt the severing of his bond to Elain? Or out of FEAR that the bond would be nullified or damaged or broken?

'The king's poison' was coursing through Azriel, but the king also threw Elain into the Cauldron--and faebane is a substance that neutralizes and suppresses Fae powers.

Could Azriel's cry be about the muting of his bond with Elain?

Just like with his other two brothers, who all fell in love with human women and were mated to human women, Azriel could've felt the pull of the bond with Elain even when she was human. However, when she was being Made, her was also shot full of Faebane (unlike Cassian for example, who was simply gravely wounded while Nesta was being made).

Could that have contributed to Azriel 'losing' the sensation of the bond to Elain and the Cauldron opportunistically crafting a weaker bond for Elain with Lucien? A bond that was thrown at Lucien (his words) the moment Elain emerged from the Cauldron.

The bond snapped for Lucien, but it did not snap for Elain. Elain's continued indifference towards Lucien could potentially be explained by the fact that she is already bound to Azriel (even if she doesn't know it) and therefore, she simply cannot feel anything for Lucien. Her heart, her soul, and her mind are already occupied by someone else. Lucien doesn't belong.

So, in conclusion, in two sentences, SJM showed us a few glaringly important things: (Interestingly) Elain's beauty outshines them all (which I think will come in handy later). Mor is forgotten. The King's poison is inside Azriel, and on the king's orders Elain is tossed into the Cauldron. Azriel cries out as he watches it, as the poison works itself in, (potentially damaging their bond).

The plot thickens.

[thestrangeblob]

a little list of canon evidence supporting most elriel theories <3

1. elain and the possibility of her training to be a spy

Elain pushed, “We keep it secret—we send the servants away. (...) No one will know.”

My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.

She (feyre) nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s (elain) got you beat for secret-keeping."

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood the gift he possessed.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.” She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

2. elain wearing azriel's color (cobalt blue)

Elain rasped, “Nice to meet you,” before hustling after her, the silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor. ... She’d (elain) covered her nightgown with a silk shawl of palest blue, her fingers grappling into the fabric as she held herself. ... Elain seemed to realize it, too. She peered down at herself, at the simple blue gown she wore.  ... But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, ... “Is your father healing?” I added the cobalt of Azriel’s Siphons to the orange and mixed until a rich brown appeared. ... Azriel’s Siphons flashed, a sprawling shield of cobalt locking over Rhysand’s, his breathing just as heavy as my mate’s ... Az held Cassian’s stare for a moment, cobalt Siphons flickering, and then nodded.

3. elain's mating bond to lucien might be wrong

when elain was turned and mated:

Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel’s chest. The ash bolt was coated in bloodbane that the King of Hybern claimed flowed where he willed it. ... “Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten. I twisted—only to have the king’s guards grab me from behind. Rhys was instantly there, but Azriel shouted, back arching as the king’s poison worked its way in. (I didn't leave out any lines between these two paragraphs... so why did the poison sink deeper into az when the king says to put elain into the cauldron???)

azriel's mate behaviour to elain:

Azriel smiled faintly. ‘Would you like me to show you the garden?’ But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. ... Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports ... The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still.” ... ‘Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.’ ‘I can help her,’ said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.” ... The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate. The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.” She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.” (what we see azriel do time and again) “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need ...” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” ... “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

the description of feysand:

But the bond, the bridge between us... it was a howling void.

the description of elriel:

The only bridge of connection ... that knife.

the description of elucien:

“It felt ... strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

finally:

‘There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly sometimes the bond is nothing more than some…preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that.’”

4. azriel's shadows DO like elain:

In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More ... human than I had ever seen him. ... “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. ... Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. ... But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see…He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her. 

5. elriel's aesthetic as light and dark

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection ... that knife.

if y'all want any more cold hard canon to back up any other elriel theories/arguments/takes comment it on this post and I'll add it to the list LMAO

good day and good night y'all stay safe our there<33

[readychilledwine]

hiii can i request cassian with single mom reader? she’s his mate, but she has a child from a previous relationship vibes

Girl Dad Cass is back. ❤️ just in a different situation.

To Have and To Hold

Summary - Cassian and reader are finally saying their vows after a few years of courting, but there's other vows Cassian finds just as important.

Warning - fluff? Cassian being mushy?

A/n - I wanted to leave the reader and her daughter as undescriptive as possible. I really need to try a boy dad cassian, but he just screams girl dad energy. Ps- peep the cute divider from @firefly-graphics tons of cute options

Cassian had seen the two of plenty of times. You two were constantly walking around the Rainbow, or in book stores, or shopping.

He never saw a male with you, though, and if his wife and daughter were as pretty as you two, you would have never been unaccompanied. He arrived to Feyre's studio one day to pick Nyx up from class. The little heir was playing with your daughter, beaming so brightly about being around another little one his age. He couldn't stop his curious nature and asked. He found out from Feyre who you were, that your daughter had no father, just a coward of a male who had packed up and ran as soon as he found out protection failed.

That is when you started noticing Cassian around Velaris more. He'd start coming to the bakery you and your daughter loved. Hed be at the children's book reading done by Gwyn at the library her and her mate had opened. He'd be helping Feyre with her art classes.

One day, you were running late picking up your daughter from her art classes. You were at a shift at one of the many pleasure halls and had to help the other bar mistress break up a nasty fight between a male you'd later learn was Azriel and an idiot who'd made a comment about forcing you into his bed. A few stitches gently put into the illyrian males cheek later, and you finally arrived with him at your side. Your daughter and Cassian were deep into a conversation. Her little hands and arms were moving so quickly as you figured out slowly that they were discussing the possibility of Helion and the Day Court hiding unicorns. 

That was the beginning of this beautiful journey. She had begged Cassian to join you two for dinner and snacks that next day, and you couldn't say no to her bright eyes and wide smile, writing your address on a piece of parchment and handing it to the Illyrian male. You joked now that Cassian courted her first. He took her flying long before he ever took you, took her out for ice cream once a week, took her to little dinners and play dates with Nyx. He began joining you two for meals twice a week. Sometimes a breakfast before flying her to school lessons. Sometimes a surprise picnic lunch on a weekend. 

It took a full 3 months of this for your guard to drop. He finally asked you out when it did. "Just the two of us," he had said, and with childcare already planned out by him, you said yes. He had thought of everything. Arriving with Azriel early so your daughter could be taken to the Riverhouse, bringing you beautiful flowers from the garden planted by the High Lady's sister, and even a pick up time for your daughter that night. 

That became the new routine. Once a week, Cassian would take you out, then your daughter would get her Cassian night the next evening. A year later, he had moved you two into the House of Wind where he ensured your daughter had a playroom filled with toys, another little study room with books for her lessons, and her own bedroom with a big girl bed and fluffy pink sheets.

She fell for Cassian as hard as you had. And now, 3 years later, that all felt like a fading memory as Feyre and Gywn helped you lace up the pretty off white gown you were about to marry him in. A soft knock had the three of you turning towards the door as Rhys strolled in, picking at his black suit with a soft smile. 

"I was sent to find the little princess. Is she ready?" As if your daughter knew she was being summoned, she ran into the room, throwing herself into Rhys open arms as he lifted her. She looked so beautiful and grown in her soft white dress that glittered like fresh snow, her long hair curled and pinned with a flower crown and gems. "Cassian just wants a few moments with her before the big ceremony. Is that okay?" You rose a brow but nodded. "Let's go see Cass, princess."

You looked at Gwyn and then Feyre, both of them had small smiles on their faces. "I cannot hide this from you," Feyre finally said. "Come on, but we have to be very quiet." The two of them walked you to a little area that had been set up without your knowledge. A floral archway with purple wisteria hanging from it came into view, and centered under that archway, glowing up the dying light of the setting sun, was your daughter, both of her little hands swallowed by Cassian's large ones.

He was on his knees in front of her, sitting back on his calves. A priestess stood near them, speaking to them about the importance of family, regardless of it being by blood, how it is always the male of the house's duty to protect those he loves, and how it is a father's duty to ensure his daughter is taught how a male should treat her. "Cassian, is there anything you'd like to say to (daughter's name)?"

Cassian cleared his throat and nodded. "I want you to know I'm not just marrying your momma today because I love her. I'm marrying her because I love you. I love your little nose," he placed a gentle kiss on her nose.  "I love your giggle," he tickled her sides making her bell-like laugher sing into the air. "I love our adventures, I love playing your knight in shining armor saving you from the dragon's keep or storming castles in your honor. I love bragging about you to my family constantly."

He paused and wiped a tear from her cheeks. "I know I'm not your dad, babygirl, but I want you to know I'll always love you like you're mine. I'll protect you with my life. I'll love you until my heart stops, and even then, I will love you when I find you in the next world and lifetime." A little I love you interrupted his speech, making Cassian's voice break for the next question. "Is it okay if I start calling you my daughter?"  You watched as her curls bounced with how aggressively she was nodding. You watched as she threw herself into Cassian's arms, and he lifted her, holding her against his chest before letting the priestess know they were ready.

Feyre quickly winnowed you back to the dressing room, fixing the makeup the tears you didn't know you were crying ruined. Rhys returned to the room, seconds later, "I hate to ruin you having a flower girl, but she refuses to leave Cassian's side. We are all ready if you are." He offered Feyre his arm and the two left to take their places as witnesses. 

Gwyn left with a soft kiss placed on top of your head, "Azriel and I will be the cute ones right next to where you and Cass will be standing!"

You paused at the doors to the ceremony chamber. Taking a few stilling breaths, you nodded for the doors to be opened, and you began the walk. The room was beautiful. Strings of fae lights echoed the stars. Candles adding to the illumination of the room, setting a soft warm glow to everything. You couldn't look at anything but Cassian in stunned silence, though. His jaw and face had fallen in shock, tears forming in his eyes. Your face mirrored his and tears started to genuinely fall. 

The scent of it hit Rhysand first. He started laughing silently. It made sense now. All of this made sense now. He told Azriel to take your daughter and he did instantly. 

Cassian moved to you, crushing you to his chest as soon as you were within reach. "Mate," he whispered softly. "I can't believe you're my mate."

"Cassian, babe, we're making a scene."

"It's our wedding. We can make as big of a scene as we want." You two didn't notice your daughter wiggling out of Azriel's arms until both of you were being pulled to the priestess by her little hands. 

"Hurry up and make him my daddy." She demanded before returning to Azriel with her arms up. "Tisk tisk momma." She looked at you, blinking her eyes as she stomped her foot like sass had become her first language.

You held your arms up in defeat. "Alright alright. So demanding," you turned to the High Priestess. "Could you marry me to this male so he can be my daughter's daddy?"

Cassian's eyes were watering again. He sniffled lightly before turning to Azriel to take your daughter back and holding her tight against his side. "General, are you ready?" He nodded, kissing her temple as she leaned into his shoulder. "We are gathered here tonight to watch the union of two souls," the words faded as soon as Cassian took your hand in his, you were focused solely on him, on that new string sparkling between you two, and the happy tears your daughter was crying as she held her dad. 

You wiped one of her tears gently with your free hand after the ceremony when the three of you were alone under that floral arch where he had made his vows to her. "Are you happy, babygirl?"

Cassian still held her tight, refusing to yield her to anyone since she had called him daddy. "Why wouldn't I be? I have my mommy, my daddy, and there's cake."

"Mmmm there is cake." Cassian agreed. "Specifically your favorite chocolate cake with a layer of fudge. Too bad Uncle Az is going to eat it all before you get to." She didn't realize the glint in his eyes was playful, that he was teasing her. 

"Siege the castle, daddy. Bring me my cake."

Cassian seemed to relish the word as it continued to fall from her mouth. Settling her on his back as she pointed to the room, a loud reception party was taking place in. "As my princess wishes." He took off running through the open doors and straight to the cake table Azriel and Rhys were currently admiring. The winged males jumped back, hands held up as your daughter demanded they handed over their plates of cake and sweets.

You looked up to the stars in their all knowing and twinkling glory and two simple words fell from your lips, "Thank you."

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 5

This is a short but not so sweet chapter. I’m sorry in advance for what I’m about to do <3

Warnings: so much angst, mild torture and violence, injury to characters (let me know if I missed anything)

This is the first chapter I’ll put a big spoiler warning on, it follows the events at the end of A Court of Mist and Fury. I would HIGHLY suggest not reading this if you haven’t finished that book.

WC:4.5k

Previous Parts: [Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

It all went wrong so quickly. So quickly, I knew there was never any chance it would have gone right. We woke before the sun had risen. My mind instantly screamed to leave the moment I saw the bone white castle in front of us. But instead, we followed Feyre. Deeper and deeper into the castle.The cauldron urging her to find it. 

Cassian followed nearly a flight ahead of us, clearing the few guards with ease. If only I knew why it had been so easy. 

And then I saw it. It filled the room with something so dark, I didn’t have a name for it. 

“Hurry.” Was all Mor said as Feyre approached it almost timidly. 

“Listen.” Azriel whispered. I felt it then. I thought it had been my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. But as I took a deep breath, it seemed to be coming from the cauldron itself. Feyre walked towards it, eyes clouded and unfocused. Mor cried Feyre’s name as the other female reached into her cloak, hands grabbing onto the pieces of the book. I realized seconds too late as did Mor. Feyre laid the pieces atop one another. The world did not explode around us. A good omen, or simply holding its breath for something worse. I did not know. I watched as Feyre’s lips formed words I could not hear. Then the small trail of red streaked down her face. Azriel’s hands reached out so fast I almost missed it until I sensed the new addition in the room. Jurian. I took a step back, closing the distance between Mor and Cassian. Azriel retreated back a few paces as well. Putting himself between Feyre and the resurrected human. Rhys was instantly at her side. Hissing words at Jurian. The male only seemed to brush them off. I tugged on the sleeve of Cassian’s leather. A silent plea for us to run the hell away. The fog would not roll from my fingers. Frozen behind some new, unknown force. But I stayed silent, not taking my eyes off of my family as they spoke with Jurian. 

“I was sent to distract you-” The joy in those few words was enough to send my mind into a panic. I surged forward to pull them back to the stairs. “You won’t leave this castle alive.” 

Jurian tilted his head as he eyed up Rhys, my proximity to him.

“Do you know what it was like? To be forced to watch everything, to be alive in that ring. Not able to sleep or breathe, or feel.” 

“It must not have been so bad if you joined her master.” 

Rhys’ response seemed to be sucked from his chest. And I followed his eyeline and felt the air leave my lungs. The familiar face of the King of Hybern soaking us all in. 

“I’m almost disappointed you didn’t see the trap, it was oh so…easy.” 

The king of Hybern spoke, distracting all of us just long enough that no one could stop Jurian as he drove an ash arrow through Azriel’s chest. A twisted, gnarled scream ripped through my chest as I saw Azriel fall to his knees. His precious wings drooped to the ground. I scrambled over to his side before a pair of invisible hands wrapped around me, pinning me in place. A cry left my lips as I saw Rhys and Cassian struggle to haul Azriel to his feet.As the force released me, Mor’s support at my side was the sole reason I was standing. 

We marched up the stairs behind the King of Hybern. Soft sobs racked through my whole body as Mor all but carried me up the steps. My eyes did not leave Azriel’s frame. Holding my breath at every passing second, waiting for the moment Hybern would release the poison into his heart. We didn’t stop moving until we entered the throne room

The throne room ripped me from my body, catapulting me back into that vile place under the mountain. Except it was not Amarantha that was waiting for us. It was something more horrifying altogether as I watched Lucien and Tamlin step out of the shadows. 

My legs finally gave out. Mor’s hand wrapping under my arm to stop my knees from colliding with the hard marble floor. Feyre was shaking her head from side to side, like she could shake the sight from her memory. “Tamlin…” I started to take a step before a force pushed me onto my back. A snarl ripped from Cassian's chest as I yelped. My breath getting knocked out of me in a loud whoosh. I could only sit and watch as Tamlin’s green eyes swept greedily over Feyre’s figure, taking in the Illyrian leathers she was dressed in. It seemed it was only Lucien’s hand on Tamlin’s shoulder that stopped him from lunging at her. 

“What have you done?” Her voice a cold whisper. 

“It was easy really. I return you to your rightful place, and Tamlin, in exchange, would allow my shoulders to pass through his court and use it as a base when we brought down that stupid wall.” Pure panic flowed through me as I fought against Hyben’s power to try to get to Feyre, to put myself between Feyre and the High Lord of the Spring Court. I could only manage to sit up with my hands resting beside me. 

“Tamlin…please.” I panted at the effort it took to speak the words. “Don’t do this.” I searched for any other options. “Take me instead. Leave her here.” Despite the arrow through his chest, Azriel growled lowly at my words. For the first time since we arrived, Tamlin looked at me. 

“That’s what you think this is all about?” He gave a single sharp chuckle. “This isn’t about revenge for you leaving me. This is only about returning what was stolen from me.” Feyre tensed as he said her name, a command to obey in his tone. Lucien’s metal eye was whirling around in his head as he spoke Tamlin’s name. A hint of doubt and fear in his voice. A tone I had never heard from the red haired male. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion around me. My mind desperately trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to rip out that arrow from Azriel’s chest, how to get Tamlin as far away from my family as I possibly could. 

“The last part of my plan is simple. Break the bond between you two.” He pointed a bony finger to my brother then Feyre. I felt every muscle in Rhy’s body tense beside me. To his credit, he didn’t lunge at the king. The whole room took a collective breath. 

“No.” Feyre’s voice broke around the single word. I could hear the way her heart broke in that single syllable. 

“Please.” I said around a sob. 

Hybern turned his cold eyes to me. “How else is Tamlin supposed to have his bride? He can’t have Feyre dear running off to a different court every month. We saw what happened last time.” 

“I told you not to come for me that I lef-”

“We all saw that you weren’t okay. He took advantage of that, turned you against your home, against me. He stole you from me. 

“She was going to die in that house.” Anger flared through me for the first time since we arrived. 

“Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.” He spit at me, not taking his eyes off of Feyre. 

“Don’t you dare-” 

“I’ll come with you.” I swore I felt my heart stop beating. “If you leave them alone. Let them go.” 

“You’d let them- Feyre, they’re monsters.” Tamlin almost pleaded. His voice sickly sweet. Despite his words, he crept closer to Feyre, hand outstretched. He lunged at the spot where Feyre had been standing not a second before. She was now standing across the room. I felt no satisfaction in the way Rhys’ fist made contact with Tamlin’s face, knocking the male off of his feet. Feyre was at Rhys’ side in an instant. The unmistakable combined scent filling the air. Tamlin went deathly still. A look I had never seen crossed the High Lords face as Hybern confirmed what he had already realized. 

“I’m sorry.” her tone honest. 

More soldiers filled the room and I lost the last bit of control I had as I saw the color drain even further from Azriel’s face. 

“You fucking traitor. Do you know what he is going to do with that cauldron, do to all of us?” I could not stop the tears that tracked down my face. 

“There are many, many things I’m going to do with it.” He snapped and the Cauldron appeared in the room. “Starting with this.” Fire flickered in Feyre’s psalm at the sight.

“There she is. Made from all seven courts. Did you really plan to destroy the cauldron? You could rule the world with that book by your side.” He noted her silence, tilting his head with a sickening smile. “You’ll tell me soon enough. Your master made a bargain and you don’t want to know what happens to those who break their word” 

“If you take me from my mate, from my home. I will find a way to destroy you. You, your whole fucking court and everything you love.” 

“Feyre, please. Just come with us.” Lucien begged Feyre. The king’s laugh echoed through the throne room. 

“That won’t be necessary. Because you will find it in your best interest to behave, Feyre Archeron.” The four queens filled into the room but their guards did not stop as they hauled into two small figures. I heard the cry that left Feyre as we all saw the faces of her sisters and thrown at the feet of the King of Hybern. 

Feyre did not move, she wasn’t breathing. She could only stare blankly at her sisters. Elain who was sobbing even through the gag in her mouth and Nesta who yowled like a rabid animal. “If you touch them I will end you all.”

“Do you hear that,” The king of Hybern purred to the queens. “Slaughtering and destroying, that’s all they are capable of. Ending life. While I plan to give it. Now will you let me show you what the cauldron can do?”

“Please. I’m proof, Jurian is proof. I’ll give you whatever you want, just leave them out of it.” Feyre pleaded, the King just gave her a wicked smile. 

“Just show us.” A bored drone from the eldest queen. 

“Don’t look so down, Feyre. Isn’t this what you told our dear friend Ianthe about. How you would miss your sisters terribly. Now you don’t have to. Now you three can stay young together.” 

“Don’t pl-” 

A force knocked the wind out of Feyre.

“Bring them here.”

And then the room exploded. Feyre exploded around us. It felt like drowning and burning and when you come in on a cold day to a hot fire. My skin buzzed. Under that magic, a scream, Cassian’s scream pierced through me. I felt the force of it knock me off my feet once more. And then it was gone. And Azriel was crouched over me. Mor around Cassian. Cassian. One look at his wings and I felt like I was going to be sick. The room broke into chaos. Mor and Rhys both lunged for the king. Tamlin going for Feyre. And I could do nothing more than cling to the male next to me. Azriel let out a cry of pain as Mor pulled out a dagger from her belt. I froze. Mor looked back to him and let her knife fall to the floor. Mor stumbled to Azriel’s other side. 

“Start with the pretty one first.” Feyre only moved an inch before Azriel was writhing in my hold. My hand went to wipe away the strands of hair that stuck to his face. 

“You’ll be okay. It’s okay.” I whispered against his forehead. I could feel his sweat against my skin and my stomach rolled. I closed my eyes tight, praying to whatever god was still listening that this was all going to be a dream. Azriel’s hand resting on mine made me open my eyes, tears streaming down my face at the streaks of blood his hand left on mine. 

This was no dream and I could do nothing but watch as the guards struggled with Elain, pulling her up to the mouth of the cauldron. Nesta looked like she wished nothing more than to rip everyone's throat out with her bare hands. More guards joined her side to hold her back. 

“Stop this. We didn’t agree to this.” Tamlin called out, an unfamiliar horror etched into his face. Jaw and shoulders tight. When the guards continued dragging Elain to the cauldron, Tamlin pounced. Even I cried out as he was slammed to the ground by that invisible force. He strained but did not rise. 

With a blood curdling scream that drowned out Feyre’s last plea, we watched Elain get thrown into the almost black water of the cauldron. Seconds passed like hours, she hadn’t resurfaced after a few moments and both Feyre and Nesta were holding their breath. Eyes locked on the horror in front of them. Suddenly, the cauldron tipped over and Elain’s limp body tumbled to the floor. Feyre let out a sob as Elain gasped for air. I was ashamed of the relief that flowed through me. Her skin had a slight shimmer to it, ears already elongating. It worked. 

Elain was already shivering, her nightgown soaked through. 

“So it works?” One of the queens spoke, if I had been able to move I would have punched her in her perfect face. 

“The next one if you please.” Hybern spoke to the guards holding Nesta. In all my years, I had never seen someone fight as hard as Nesta did in those moments. She almost slipped out of the guards hold three times before they managed to get her to the edge of the cauldron. Before she could be dunked, I watched as she pointed a long finger at Hybern. A curse, a promise that he will pay for this moment until he stopped breathing. Nesta spent longer under than Elain did, each second passing by slower than the next. Feyre vomited as the time passed. Rhys scrambled to her side.  Nesta was dumped onto the floor beside her sister. Just like her sister, she was faintly glowing. But there was something different, unsettling. I couldn’t place my finger on it but Nesta felt like she was more than fae as she clutched her sister. 

Nesta shoved Lucien off, shoved the cloak he had wrapped around her shivering body and replaced it with her arms. Sobbing her sister's name into her hair. She rocked her like a babe. 

Between my own sobs I almost missed it. That one whispered sentence from Lucien. Mate. I never hated him more than I did right at this moment. I let my mind fill with what I would do to the both of them when we left this room. Imagined the blood was not Azriel’s but Tamlin’s or Lucien’s. That it was them screaming and not my family as it was torn apart in front of me. 

Feyre collapsed to the ground so suddenly it pulled me from my violent thoughts. Light so blinding I buried my head into Azriel’s shoulder. My hand blindly reached to cover his eyes. I sensed the light fading and peaked my head up enough to see Feyre on the ground, clutching and tearing at her head. Then she looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. She pushed Rhys away from her and scrambled towards Tamlin. This has to be a sick dream. 

“What did you do to me?” Feyre cried out, clinging to Tamlin like he wasn’t the reason we were in this mess. 

“How’d you do it Feyre?” Rhys’ voice wrapped around the words like a siren song. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening around me until Mor gasped. 

“What did you do to that girl?” 

“Break the bond.” Feyre sniffled. Crawling a pace towards the king of Hybern. The small flicker of her eyes back to Rhys made it come crashing down on me. She was not leaving with us. She was going to go with Tamlin. I watched as the scene unfolded around me. I cried harder. Azriel’s hand tightened on my own. They would pay for all of this, one day. I would make sure of that myself. They were-

Rhys’ scream made every hair on my body stand up. Feyre’s own screamed wove in with his and I covered my ear not pressed into Azriel’s chest with my free hand. Unable to hear the sounds around me any longer. I rocked back and forth, desperately trying to calm down. But the sobs continued as the screams did. I couldn’t take this. Hearing my family's agony was going to kill me, I was certain. Then it all went quiet. A haunting quiet that left my ears ringing. 

Tamlin ripped off the glove on Feyre’s left hand and found nothing but perfectly smooth skin. I clutched onto my brother's jacket as he crawled over to us. He wrapped his arms around our group as best as he could. 

“You’re free to go, Rhysand. His poison is gone. Shame about the wings.” He taunted my brother. I grabbed at his jacket so hard my hands shook. Fiery pain at the small motion. I turned my eyes to Feyre, to this brave and beautiful girl who once again had sacrificed everything for the people I loved. I let my thank you echo in my head, roaring in the mess that was left. It was in that split second that Mor winnowed next to the huddled newly-fae females. And winnowed away. Rhys winnowing us at the same moment. 

I couldn’t breathe. So afraid to even move. I laid on the floor until Rhys pulled me up to my feet, my unsteady legs nearly buckling under me. My eyes looked around, not believing what they saw. The warm wood of the walls in our townhome. Rhys’ arms wrapped around me, pull.ing me tight against him. My arms hung limply at my side. I felt like I was floating away, like it had been me that was pulled into that inky black water and sent adrift. 

“Stay with me.” Rhys whispered into my hair. I fought through the haze in my head and eyes, clawing my way back into the very real room I was now standing in. My muscles locked tight, an ice cold feeling traveling down my spine. A cry left my lips and I pulled myself out of my brother's arms. Caring about nothing else but Azriel suddenly. 

I crouched over him, pulling his head into my lap. The ash arrow still sticking out of him

 “I’m sorry.” I whispered as I ripped the arrow out of his chest. “Where is Majda?” I hissed to my brother. His face was pale. 

“She’s on her way, he’ll be o-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence Rhys.” Azriel was getting paler by the second. Eyes fully closed. I leaned my forehead against his. “Please. Please, I can’t lose you.” I whispered, not caring if the others heard. I was shaking all over but I couldn’t let go of him. 

Amren walked into the room, freezing as her eyes swept over all of us. 

“Where is she?” Her quicksilver eyes flaring with something dangerous. Rhys didn’t respond, when none of us did, she simply asked again. That fire behind her eyes growing ever brighter. 

“It was a trap. Tamlin sold out his court for Hybern’s use and Ianthe sold out Feyre’s sisters. He wanted to prove…prove the cauldron could make people immortal. Make them fae. We could do nothing. We were out of options.” Mor responded. Voice heavy with the words, like she was speaking with a mouth full of rocks. 

“Rhysand” Amren started. Blind rage flared through me at the accusation in those words, 

“She knew we couldn’t do anything. She pretended like I had made her do it all, leaving spring, staying here, the bond. She said she would go with them if they stopped. So we walked out of there freely because she stayed behind.”

“The bond?” 

“Hybern broke it.” I croaked. The words like sandpaper in my throat. 

“That’s impossible. That magic simply does not exist.”

“No it doesn’t.” Rhys spoke clearly. My eyes darted to his. That pain was real, the heartbreak for his mate could not be faked. But it was not because of the bond breaking. Because if it could not be broken then Feyre…

“Go get her. Now.” Amren hissed at my brother. 

“No.” The room trembled under the weight of a high lord’s command. Even Amren balked at him. “She is a spy, with a tie to me. So she will stay in Spring where she will see Hyberns’ soldiers, learn their plans. And so will we.”

“She isn’t a spy.

“No. She’s my mate. And she is the High Lady of the Night Court. 

“What?” Amren and Mor spoke at the same time. 

“If they removed her other glove, they would have seen the mark from last night, the ink swirled around her wrist from when I swore her in as my High Lady. My equal in every way that matters.” 

I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to break more tonight. Hearing the sure way Rhys spoke, the decision they had made in a split second together. He would never have allowed this on his own, but Feyre. The cunning girl came up with this in seconds. When Azriel’s life was hanging by a thread. She knew she would have to return to that vile place to save my family, her family. I sobbed, already tired of the sound. But for the first time tonight, there was a shard of hope poking at the edges of all the pain. Worming it’s way to the surface. But I felt it, that itch under my skin. The warm thoughts were already being dragged under by the simmering rage I felt. The rage that was echoed in my brother. The stiffness in his shoulders, his hands clenched white knuckles by his sides. The muscles in his jaw jumped slightly, eyes far away as he drifted far away for a second. Only a second before I felt the room tremble again. A deep sigh in the ground beneath us. My skin crawled in response. That surge that threatened to swallow us both whole and take the house with it.

I unwrapped myself from Azriel’s side, standing on sure legs this time. And crossed the room to my brother. I held out an expectant hand. He only stared for a few moments before he grabbed it. Winnowing us out of the house. I exploded the moment Rhys appeared back in the world. Inky blackness thick enough to hold poured out from me in waves. This was not sadness, no, it was pure rage. Rage at a male who thought he owned Feyre, could own anyone. He might hide behind polished clothing and excuses of good intentions but I could see him for the monster he truly was. Rhys stayed by my side as I fell apart. And when I saw that last cloud of black ink fade into nothing, Rhys collapsed with the force of an earthquake. The ground splitting around us. Cracks formed so deep they seemed to never end. He let out a roar that sent animals and birds running away from us. I didn’t try to comfort him. I had no words that could fix this, nothing that would bring Feyre back to us. So I sat and watched as his heart poured out from him in the only way he could. Screams broke off into sobs and that was my undoing. I sank down next to him, wrapping my arms so tightly around him I was worried if he could even breathe. Worried he wouldn’t push me away if he couldn’t.

“We’ll get her back.” I spoke against his answering swirl of darkness. “We got her out once. We can do it again. We Will do it again.” I pulled back enough to see his face. 

“And we will plan, and we will fight. And you will eat. You will breathe. And you will live knowing we will get her back. And I will live knowing that I am going to help you end them all for what they put our family through.” My own power trickled out. Nothing more than vapor before it faded away. And this time I felt it. That final death knell of the powers I had clung to so dearly. 

“And once she’s back. We go to war.” I whispered, a stray tear rolling down my face as I pushed the hope of ever using my powers again far away. There was no forgiveness in my heart. Swept away when I saw the pain in Feyre’s face. No. I did not forgive Tamlin for what had happened today. And as I tried to forget the screams as they danced around my head. I know, deep down, I never would. 

Next part: Chapter 6

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand x reader: the afterglow

set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!

under the cut bc its over 1K!

tw: a bit of anxiety

-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 

-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 

-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 

-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 

-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 

-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 

-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?

“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 

“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 

“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“

“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 

You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 

“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 

He scoffed, “better be!” 

“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 

“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 

“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 

“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 

Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 

“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 

“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 

You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 

Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 

-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 

-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 

-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 

“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 

“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 

“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 

Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 

Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 

“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 

“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 

“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 

“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 

You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 

Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 

She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 

Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 

“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”

“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 

That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 

-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 

They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 

Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 

“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”

“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 

Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 

His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 

“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  

The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 

“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 

“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”

“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 

“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 

“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 

“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”

“Agreed.” He said. 

“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 

“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 

“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 

You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”

“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 

“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”

Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”

“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 

You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 

“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 

“And?” You asked. 

“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”

And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 

You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 

How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 

When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”

The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 

You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 

You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.

[yiiyiiwrites]

| If I must be your ruin |

Summary: before the buildings ruin, Cassian knew that your love would fall the same but he was willing to fight that fate with his mate. (Some dad Cassian and uncle Azriel/Rhys too)

Cassian x summer court reader (forbidden romance) [acotar masterlist]

Before under the mountain:

Sneaking Cassian into the summer court because you prefer your silk sheets and comfy bed.

Cassian loves waking up to you in his arms, the salty breeze filtering through the open window. Veiled curtains fluttering around the bed frame, dangling shells clinking together and creating a song he hopes he never forgets.

Takes a while for both of you to take the relationship serious as you’re both forbidden from stepping in each other’s courts.

Swimming together during the full moon, taking a small boat out into the summer sea and diving from the deck.

That one time Cassian got caught and you had to flirt with the guards so that he could escape. You never heard the end of it, but it did lead to great make up sex. He teases you for it all the time.

Your older brothers don’t like Cassian because of what he did.

“It was one building! It was ugly anyways, did us all a favour.”

You’re also part of the reason for the buildings ruin, but Cassian has never mentioned it.

“I would tear down buildings for you.”

Meeting on the boundary of summer and winter, Cassian can’t step over the invisible court line. (After being caught previously it’s too risky for him and you).

So you launch into his arms not caring at the abrupt temperature change. He opens his jacket and pulls you into a crushing hug to keep you warm.

Slipping a shell in his pocket, so that he’s reminded of a piece of you when he puts his hands in there to warm up in the cold. (He doesn’t tell you that he got a seamstress to sew a shell into the lining of his pocket so that you’re always with him).

Sending Cassian a blood ruby when he’s angered you. He ends up with a collection of different cut red gems, that you both laugh about now. You only get more angry if he forgets the reason of why you sent them.

You made him a necklace with discarded fishing netting and a shard of sea glass you found washed ashore.

“If I must be your ruin,” Cassian said, hooking his finger under your chin and raising your gaze to his. “Then I will also be your salvation.”

Secret wedding, where he creates you a ring out of the first blood ruby you sent him (the only reason you sent it was because it was the exact same shade as his siphons, he got in a lot of trouble with Rhys too).

Your mating ceremony is halfway between both of your courts in dawn. Only you and cassian with a priestess that is your closet friend.

Your dress pearlescent silk, fluttering layers in the morning breeze. Pearls weaved into the waves of your hair.

“In this life and the next, my love.”

After under the mountain:

You’ve never seen Cassian under the mountain and that you are glad of.

The only thing you have of Cassian’s is a dagger, blood ruby set in the scabbard. Your ring is hidden away in the Dawn court with your priestess friend.

You’re convinced that Rhysand can scent his friend merged with yours. He even studied the dagger, but did not push any further.

It wasn’t your mate that ended up being your ruin, it was the things you had to do in order to survive.

Fifty years of yearning and you meet him back in dawn. Granted it took you a couple of years of freedom till you reached out to him. Closed yourself up in summer to try and rid yourself of the trauma.

Cassian bought you a small estate that looks out to the sea in the dawn court. Your shells and rubies decorating the driftwood mantelpiece.

Your mate is hesitant the first few visits as if he’s worried about scaring a wild animal. As if you’re made of glass.

You seek refuge in the dawn court and wait for your mates visits. The first person he brings to your shared home is Feyre. He knows that she’ll be the most understanding and will treat you with kindness.

The nightmares are few and far between when Cassian is there to hold you.

The sound of the sea crashing along the shore soothes your mind and helps you stay grounded. Your mate knows you too well.

When you do eventually get invited to Velaris, you’re surprised to see the small shells scattered around his bedroom. The ribbon from your mating ceremony in the drawer beside his bed.

The different ornate chests full of rubies tucked away at the back of his wardrobe.

Your family:

When you have children they are named after precious stones. The first a daughter Ruby, as fiery as the threat of summer and has drawn blood from her father (accidentally).

Ruby is a forced to be reckoned with when she gets older. “Well it’s not that bad, dad totalled a whole building,” Ruby smirked, eyes sliding to Feyre who bit back a laugh. “Who told you that?!” It’s turns out Rhys was the one that let that slip.

Ruby has no interest in fighting in the mountains, thinks her father and Azriel are brutes (but loves them anyways). She does however want to join the Valkyries. Very fond of Nesta and loves romance books too. Debates with Cassian on how they can help Illyrian women.

Cassian teaching Ruby to fly, she’s reluctant to learn but he takes a more softer approach and asks feyre to help out too.

Obsessed with Pegasus in the day court that she begs you to take her there whenever you have diplomatic work.

Asks Rhys to put in a good word with Helion so that she can study in the day courts library. Ruby sends Cassian war books that she’s read and add sticky tabs for parts she thinks her dad will like. Sends you precious stones with a note. “Whatever you do, do not call any of my future siblings after this one.”

A son Jett, who is so protective of his siblings and his mother when you fall pregnant with a third one. He doesn’t give too much away, his stony face unmoving as if he’s spent too much time with uncle Azriel enjoying the quiet (which he doesn’t get at home thanks to ruby).

Jett’s the only one that wants to train in the Illyrian mountains like his father and uncles. Grew up playing with a wooden sword before he even learnt to fight.

Cassian doesn’t let Jett go to the Illyrian mountains till he’s trained to a high standard. Knows his son will be a target for people to prove they are better than him. So wants to give him a fighting chance before he’s left to his own devices.

Play fights with Rhys as a kid and gets in a good few swipes before you and Feyre are telling them both to calm down.

Jett asking Cassian to tell him of his adventures putting away monsters in the prison before bed.

Azriel is the one to teach Jett to fly, Cassian too nervous as he falls each time. Jett can’t do it with too many distractions, values silence and figuring it out himself instead of people telling him what to do. He ends up going out alone and mastering it himself…which earns him a scolding from you and Cassian.

Pearl, she loves the ocean that her first steps were paddling in the shallow waves at the beach. Free spirited and loves to fish with Feyre and Rhys. Whether it be looking for shells or sea glass or searching for a crab in the rock pools.

Pearl is the only one without wings, you tell her it’s so that she can swim and follow the mermaids in the ocean. She’s a spitting image of you as a child and it’s like you’re meeting yourself again for the first time.

Pearl has no spatial awareness when it comes to wings. She’s always getting swatted by her siblings wings and she likes to play a game where she hides behind Cassian’s wings, all that can be heard is her giggles.

Azriel took Pearl flying because he didn’t want her to miss out when her siblings were learning to fly (he may have dropped her few times as he mentioned how many times Jett fell whilst learning…he always caught her maybe even dropped her again just to hear her little giggles).

His girls braiding his hair and adding little shells and strands of string. Cassian definitely learns how to do their hair too. He even massages your hair before he braids yours too and the girls whine asking him to do that to them as they undo the ribbon holding their braids.

You live in Dawn during winter and spring, as you can’t handle the cold weather. Summer and autumn in Velaris, a top floor apartment in the art district overlooking a lake. It’s smaller than your home in dawn, but you spend more time outside on the rooftop patio than inside.

Your children visiting your brothers in Summer during the hottest time of the year so that they can see where you grew up.

Ruby rejects her mate, an Illyrian brute that doesn’t value her intellect or cares for her opinion. She falls in love with a scholar from the day court and lives out the rest of her life there. She doesn’t visit you and cassian for a few years thinking that you are not happy with the rejection as she knows that mates are sacred. But you make it known that her happiness is all that matters.

Jett’s mate, a peregryne in the aerial legion. They meet across the battle field during war and spend years trying to find each other. Nothing but letters going back and forth whilst they fulfil their respective duties.

Pearl meets her mate in the Summer court. A way finder, he was pulling a fishing net up in the middle of the sea when he saw Pearl swimming by.

Hope you liked….I thought about this way too much after thinking of it ages ago :)

[thelovelyfawnsworld]

it has come to our attention that elain archeron had never said the shadowsinger’s name in the four books they’ve known each other. we conclude that the first time she utters his name would be a monumental moment like nessian’s. however, i like to imagine how she would say it, when she would say it, and what situation they’d be in when she says it. so hear is my imagination (head canon) for the scene:

(stay with me on this)

Cassian and Azriel were meant to depart tonight for their mission but Rhysand had asked Elain to use her power to see the future. The whole Inner Circle was there in the study, Elain sat in the middle while all of them surround her. Feyre had been worried what the repercussions will be after she uses her power to see Koschei’s schemes, after all, the last time she had used her power, she got abducted by Hybern.

Rhysand had promised her that he will never let anything happen to Elain. He’d make Mor stand guard next to Elain all time afterwards to make sure her safety is not compromised. But Nesta and Feyre also volunteered to look after her.

Elain looked around the study. Rhysand was standing in front of her, his hands inside his pockets. Feyre sat beside her mate while Mor stood behind the couch. Amren was leaning against the shelves while Nesta was standing just behind Rhys, her arms crossed against her chest, eyes laser focused on Elain while her mate stands behind her, hands rubbing Nesta’s shoulders. Cassian was trying to ease Nesta’s worry but it did not ebb away.

Finally, Elain’s eyes land on the male at the window, looking out with his arms crossed against his chest, blue siphons gleaming. He had not said a word since Rhysand asked Elain for help. He never voiced his opinion or concern and just kept far away from her. He had been like that for months now, always kept his distance, always kept his eyes away from her.

He had told her that what they almost shared that fateful night was a mistake. But with his actions, it would have been better if he had told her that it was her mistake. Told her he does not feel the same. Instead, he’d let her feel this torturous distance between them.

She turns to Rhysand who’s been waiting for her to start. Waiting for her to be ready. So she closed her eyes and finally unlocked the iron fortress in her mind, let those vines of sleeping flowers finally bloom. When she opened her eyes back up, her eyes were glazed over. it had turned into a milky color before it glowed, and then, Elain was out of this world.

Azriel finally turned to look at her. He had been clenching his jaw the entire time to stop himself from yelling at Rhysand, for putting Elain in danger. He wanted to take her away, to keep her safe, but he also knew that Elain had been training so hard these days and her sisters, even Mor, would not let anything happen to her. But still, it pained him that he had to depart tonight without ensuring that Koschei would never reach her like the Cauldron and Hybern did. It pained him to keep distance between them. It pained him to see her wistful glances across the room. It pained him as much as it pained her.

Elain felt herself fall, saw mist cover everything, the wind blew away the clouds of smoke and then she saw it. She saw flashes of future. She saw him being captured, saw blue siphons flicker before it turned dull, saw a chain locking on a tan neck, saw wings turned into ribbons, saw lashes against tattooed back, saw hazel eyes dilate before it glazed over. She saw his chest rise and fall for the last time. Koschei had won.

Feyre stood from her seat and Nesta rushed over to Elain when their sister started whimpering like a tortured animal. Nesta knelt in front of her most beloved sister, holding her hands on Elain’s lap as she shakes her.

“No, no, no,” Elain’s whimpers started as a whisper before it grew louder. Fat tears started falling from those glowing eyes, her chest started rising and falling in rapid succession. It looked like she was facing a nightmare she could not escape. Azriel had already taken a step forward before he could stop himself. He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to stay rooted to where he is.

Feyre stood behind Nesta, worry washing over her face, “Rhysand, what is happening?” Her voice shakes.

“Elain, what do you see? Tell us what you see.”

“Stop this. Get her out of the hell hole she went in!” Nesta snarled at Rhysand.

“Azriel,” Elain breathed before she released a sharp cry. It had shaken Azriel to the core when she said his name. It called something in him before he felt himself break at her sharp cry. It felt like a goddess had let out the sound that shook the very ground of Prythian. She wailed like she was grieving something greater than life. She wailed even as she sat ramrod on the chair, her eyes wet and glowing. Amren, Mor, and Cassian rushed towards Elain, completely covering the seer from Azriel.

“Elain! Come back. You need to come back. You need to get out of there!” Nesta yelled desperately, shaking her sister over and over again.

“Azriel,” Elain had gasped after she closed her eyes and opened them again so forcefully. Her brown eyes dilated, the whites in them turned bloodshot. She let the faces around her attack her.

“What did you see, Elain?” Rhysand had asked calmly.

“You’ll never make Elain do that again!” Nesta had said after she felt relief wash over her when Elain opened her eyes.

Her eyes searches wildly for that face. When she could not see him, she called out his name in a trembling panicking voice.

“Azriel,” she called out, not caring about the people around her. Not caring of what they think, not caring if they finally find out that she harbors feelings, forbidden feelings, for the shadowsinger. She needed him desperately. She needed to set her eyes on him, see that he is alright, feel that he is alright.

“Elain, tell us what you saw,” Amren commanded.

“Where is Azriel?” She turned to the small female, “I need Azriel!” She yelled, her tears continuously flowing down her devastatingly beautiful face.

“I’m here,” the shadowsinger had said, their friends turned to him before they parted when he finally started approaching her.

“What do you need, Elain?” He asked her as he passed Rhysand who had those violet eyes pinned on him. But his hazel eyes were on her and suddenly, he didn’t care. The world may burn and collapse, he’d never take his eyes off from the most beautiful face he’s ever seen in his entire immortal life.

He kneeled before her, just beside Nesta who was slowly standing back up. Elain threw herself at him, her slender arms circling around his neck. She buried her face at his shoulder, her arms tightening even more. His wings instinctively going around them, as if its sole purpose was to protect this female.

“Don’t leave, please. You cannot go,” She cried on his shoulder.

“Elain, Cassian needs him on this mission,” Rhysand tried to tell her softly.

Elain had raised her head enough to yell at the High Lord in front of her, “Send another Illyrian warrior. Send Mor, send Amren. I do not care!” She snarls like an animal ready to protect what it deemed its most prized possession.

“Elain…” Feyre said her name, not to reprimand her but to show her concern.

“Koschei won. He captured Azriel. And nothing… nothing you can do will save him.” Elain’s soft voice had said those words like a curse, an omen that needed to be heard.

[thatacotargirl]

The Daughter of Day (2)

Welcome back to The Daughter of Day, a series exploring a new Court and a triad, because why not!

I hope you enjoy chapter 2 🌟

This story is set after A Court of Silver Flames.

My inbox remains open for oneshot/imagine requests.

Taglist: @fightmedraco @lilah-asteria @acourtofsmutandstarlight

A Reader x Feysand Fanfiction

Reader's POV

It had been over a week since my father had sent a request to Rhysand asking to host me as a visitor in Velaris, and we still hadn't received a reply. I knew it might take a while, with Rhysand being a High Lord and no doubt as busy as my father was most days, but I couldn't help the heavy feeling in my heart that I might be refused and I'd have to carry on living in Day. It wasn't that I disliked my home court - it had beauty to rival even the most glowing stars in the sky - but it was suffocating being trapped in the palace. Every morning I woke with no plans other than to walk the castle walls, hiding from the palace guards who would no doubt scoop me up and take me back to the safe confines of my bedroom if they found me. Every night, I'd fall asleep hoping my dreams would whisk me away to adventure, fun, freedom. Then, I'd wake up, and I'd do it all again.

Rhysand's POV

Rhys sat in his office sifting through endless piles of paperwork with a sigh. Azriel sat to his left, writing furiously into a notebook, his tongue sticking out slightly with concentration. Rhys chuckled inwardly, and rose from the desk, pacing around the office with his pen tapping against his thigh. He was feeling restless and couldn't quite put a pin on why. He was more than satisfied with his life as it was - he had a beautiful mate, a perfect son, a loving family, war had been won, and life was rebuilding. He had defied all odds and had come out stronger, despite the trauma that lingered below the surface. But, in spite of that, he felt like a part of him was missing. Like he had completed the puzzle that was him, his life, but there was one piece that he had overlooked and left the puzzle incomplete.

Shaking his head, he grabbed a handful of letters from the desk and began slotting through them, tossing the occasional one into the trashcan by his desk. Suddenly, one gold envelope caught his eye. He placed the pile back on the desk to hold the envelope with both hands, feeling the power of its author within. That heat, that sun, that all glowing all consuming power could belong to one High Lord, and one High Lord only - Helion. Rhys carefully opened the letter and reviewed its contents.

Dearest Rhysand, It was a pleasure to be hosted by yourself and your wonderful family this week; and the Day Court remains a staunch ally to you and your Court. I write on matters unrelated to alliance. My daughter, y/n, is finding herself lost amongst Day Court. I admit that I may have 'coddled' her, as one might say, but I did so for fear of her life and safety, and out of love. However, she now wishes to experience a world outside of my shining walls. Would you be so gracious as to allow y/n to visit Velaris for a period of time? I ask this as your ally, and friend, as I trust that y/n will be safe with you in your City of Starlight. Yours truly, Helion.

Rhysand was surprised at the request. Helion had kept his daughter hidden in the confines of the Day Court palace for 25 years, and was now allowing her to not only leave the palace, but leave the Court entirely? He shook his head, almost inclined to deny the request. He could not be responsible for y/n's safety, even if Velaris had the lowest crime rate of all Prythian. If something were to happen to y/n within his court, it could result in war and bloodshed. He took up his pen to write his reply, denying the request, but felt himself hesitate.

Rhys knew better than many what it felt like to be trapped. To feel as though your life wasn't your own to live because you were being held against your will, not able to spread your wings and explore, live, enjoy what this world had to offer. He sat as his hands touched the paper and he found his fingers moving on their own accord.

Dear Helion, The Night Court would be delighted to host y/n. She may stay at our River House for as long as she wishes. Please do send word of when we can expect her arrival and we will ensure that a room is prepared. Regards, Rhysand.

Reader's POV

With a sigh, you put away the book that was resting on your lap and head towards your bedroom. The book was a romance, one you had read so many times over that you were sure you could re-write it verbatim, where the protagonist pursues revenge against those who wronged him to win back his one true love. Whilst romance books were your guilty pleasure, a part of you would always feel sad that perhaps you might not get to experience romance like those you read. Although, maybe nobody did, and that's why the books were so popular - everyone pined to be desired in a way that could only be conveyed on the pages of a story, and not in real life.

As you rounded the corridor and headed towards your bedroom door, you were intercepted.

"Y/n, my darling! I have news from the Night Court".

Your head shot up to meet your father's eyes, your own no doubt full of hope.

"Rhysand has offered for you to stay at the River House in Velaris".

You felt your heart jump with joy and excitement. It was finally happening.

"When can I go?", you asked eagerly, already mentally packing your bags with your favourite dresses and shoes.

"Whenever you wish, my sunshine. I will gladly take you myself".

After giving your father a quick hug, you ran full pelt into your bedroom and grabbed a bag from the back of your closet. After packing a small bag of personal items, you gazed around the drawers and closets at your clothes and halted. The beautiful golden sundresses, flowing skirts and cropped t'shirts were perfect for Day Court, but you were almost certain that you might freeze in the Night Court, not to mention that you would stick out like a sore thumb. Feeling a presence enter your bedroom, you turn to see your father make his way to the edge of your bed.

"I will provide Rhysand with a stipend to cover the expenses of you living with them, and some extra to get yourself some more appropriate clothing", he winked. You smiled at him, grateful that your father somehow always knew what you were thinking without you needing to say it. You walk over to him and reach out to take his hand.

"Thank you, for everything", you say, as he pulls you in for a hug.

"Anything for you, my sunshine".

A moment passes and you find yourself wallowed by feelings of guilt. Guilt for wanting to leave the haven that he built for you. Guilt for wanting to explore without him. You were his only child, his pride and joy, and here you were wanting to leave the nest - and leave him behind in it. Sensing your change in emotions, Helion pulls back from the hug to stare sincerely at your face.

"You make me proud everyday, y/n. You have grown into a beautiful, wise, and kind young woman and I am so proud that you are my daughter. I want you to live the life you've always dreamed of, even if that means it isn't here with me. And, no matter what, I will always be here for you when you decide to return".

You can feel the tears falling steadily down your face as you silently sob. Even though this is what you wanted more than anything else in the world, it didn't make it hurt any less.

"Come, let's go now". Helion offers you his hand and you gladly accept it, picking up the one bag that you had decided to bring with you. With one last look at your bedroom, you offer your father a silent nod, and close your eyes as you feel his power surround you both and winnow you away from the Day Court. Away from home.

You arrive with a thump at the steps of the River House you had visited a few weeks prior, and Helion reached up to knock on the giant door. Waiting, you turn to eye to streets around you, watching the citizens of Velaris go about their days chatting happily and laughing. It was dusk by the time you had arrived, and people were bustling their way down towards the main town in search of food and entertainment for the evening.

The door opened and you turned back to see Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court, standing before you. Her sister, Elain, stood at her side. Both women were smiling.

"Y/n! Welcome back to Velaris! Come in, come in", Feyre gestures to the house, moving out of the doorframe. You move to enter, but stop when you realise your father isn't following.

"This is where I leave you, sunshine. But know I am always here if you need me, and I will come and visit you in a few weeks to see how you are getting on". You can see through the smile on his face right to the sadness in his eyes.

You feel the tears pricking your own eyes but you desperately fight them back, not wanting to cry in front of Feyre and Elain. You lunge forward into your father's arms and hold him, squeezing as tightly as you possibly can, before giving him a salute and walking into the River House. You didn't trust your words not to give away the tears or beg for him to take you back to the comforts of Day; but it seems that nothing slipped past Feyre, as she reached out to pull you into a hug of her own, Elain quietly closing the door behind you.

"I know how hard it can be to make that first step to independence, y/n, you don't have to fight your emotions for our sakes", she offered, stroking your hair and letting your cry quietly on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so happy to be here, it's just harder than I expected".

You felt a hand rub your back and turned to see Elain, a sincere and kind smile on her face. You offered her a watery smile back.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up and then we can have dinner?" she asked, peeling you away from Feyre and guiding you up the stairs. You could hear commotion behind the various doors of the River House but Elain quickly led you to a door at the end of the hall. She opened it and you gasped, surprised to see that the room inside was decorated in the finest Day Court gold you had seen. You turned to Elain as she smiled.

"We figured it would be hard, leaving home for the first time, so we wanted to do something to help you settle. Helion sent us some furniture from your home and we added the rest, I hope it's ok?".

You nodded, completely speechless. Elain walked past you into the adjoining bathroom and began running you a bath as you emptied the contents of your bag. You placed the items around the room; the make-up on the vanity table, the books on your bedside, and the soft yellow blanket you'd had since you were a baby across the end of your new bed. You carried your few toiletries to the bathroom as Elain closed off the water, the smell of jasmine and honey wafting through the air.

"I hope you don't mind, I used my own bath oils as we didn't know what scent you'd like, but we have plans to go into Velaris tomorrow to buy you everything you need".

"We?", you asked.

"You, me, Feyre, and Mor!", she exclaimed excitedly. Her warming and happy energy made you want to smile.

"That sounds wonderful", you grinned back at her, "I haven't met Mor yet, she wasn't able to make the meeting when I was here last".

"You'll meet her tonight, she's coming to dinner. She's Rhys' cousin and lives not too far from here. She's also convinced everyone to go to Rita's tonight, but you don't have to join if you'd prefer to get some rest and settle in here".

"Rita's?"

"It's kind of like a club, Feyre and Mor love to go and dance, and Cassian usually causes some mayhem there. I don't often go but Feyre asked me to this time, she even went out of her way to get Amren to babysit Nyx instead of me!" Elain chuckled to herself. "I think it might be in case you wanted to come, they have a habit of drinking themselves into a bit of a stupor and might be a bit overwhelming to handle on your own".

"Nyx?", you asked, trying to remember the names of everyone you had heard of in the Night Court.

"Feyre and Rhysand's son", she paused, seeing the surprise on your face. "You know, maybe you should join us tonight if you're feeling up to it, you have quite a lot to catch up on!"

You couldn't help but return Elain's smile. Perhaps this would be a good way to get to know everyone and break the ice. "Sure, I'd like to join".

"Great! I'll let Feyre know and have her find some options for you to wear tonight. Speaking of, I'll go and find you some things to wear for dinner too - back in a moment" she smiled, and left the bathroom.

You undressed and climbed into the bath, big enough to fit at least another 4 of you in it, and sank down into the water, letting yourself soak away the emotions of the day. You couldn't help the smile that adorned your face, in spite of your lingering guilt and sadness at leaving your court behind. You had received such a warm welcome in Velaris and-

You heard a crash outside the landing, someone shouting and swearing, and a whole host of laughter as something transpired down the hall from your bedroom. You recognised the echo of Feyre's laugh and Elain's giggles, as a male - Cassian, perhaps? - swore like a sailor. You could pick out a few words; paint, prank, and glue.

You laughed and sank deeper into the water, regrouping your mind. It had been a busy enough day as it was, and it looked like it was only going to get busier still.

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts

Part 2

Alright here you go guys!

POV: You find out Azriels your mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

It was a warm summer day when he realized he loved her. They were walking out along the Sidra taking in the day to day lives of the merchants. They got the day off from Rhys as he was spending a long time needed day with Fayre, no court or camp work to be done or thought of. You and him had Nyx for the day as Cassian had claimed that he and Nesta needed the day together and with Elain in the Spring Court with Lucian you two were the last options, not that he didn’t like the idea of spending the day with you but curious as to what mischievous acts you and Nyx would get up to.

You and Nyx had walked up to a musician that spent part of his day playing along the Sidra. At first you both were just enjoying the music but then you started dancing. Azriel stood off to the side but you and Nyx started dancing and laughing with nothing but the biggest smiles on your faces. At the sight Azriel started to relax a bit and felt a smile fighting to make an appearance on his countenance. He knew the horrors you grew up with, you got to keep your freedom of flying, thank the Cauldron, but that didn’t mean your father hurt you in other ways.

As he was watching you he felt that snap, the one he had been begging to feel since he was young and dealing with his own tourture that his family dealt him. He looked to you for any ounce of a reaction that you felt the same but there you were still laughing and dancing with his nephew. He pulled at the bond and your face changed for a moment but never strayed from the boy in front of you. At that moment he knew that he needed to put a sheild around that bond because no matter how strong he was there was no way he would have the discipline to not pull on it again, not until you felt it too in your own time. So immediately he but up that cold indifferent shield around the bond begging the cauldron that you would feel the same about him sooner rather than later.

For the next few months Azriel kept everything the same between the two of you, training in the morning for at least two hours by your own asking and determination to the post training flights. You both were drained but that didn’t stop you from leaping from the top of the house of wind to go fly for an hour. Azriel never knew why you did, maybe because it reminded you of the freedom you now have with your life, regardless he always joined you.

There were a few days you didn’t train as long or take your flight to clear your mind, and on those days Azriel would find you in the back corner of the library, the first few times lead by his shadows but soon enough he knew the way to you like you know the scars on the back of his hands.

“So what’s the reading material tonight, another recommendation from Nesta” he quipped as he approached you. There was no smile on his face, his own way to try and keep you from seeing his true feelings for you.

“Possibly, and if that’s the case maybe I should go find some unsuspecting male at Ritas to help me reenact some of these moments.” You replied without looking up from your book.

Many times Azriel would come in and ask you similar questions and you wanted to see if you could get a rise out of him. Apparently tonight you did because he walked right over to the stand that held the whiskey and glass and helped himself to a glass full.

As the silence expanded between the two of you there was a slight discomfort, which wasn’t normal for you. “Gonna share or keep it all to yourself?” You asked looking up from your book.

At your words he visually relaxed, poured himself a second glass and you your first.

“I thought you’d sit over there brooding this whole time” you responded to him handing you the glass. He sat next to you on the small loveseat that was located in this corner and stayed silent. That was the last night he visited you in the library.

Azriel knew that he was creating a distance between the two of you for a while but he couldn’t stop himself, until he knew that you also felt that bond he was gonna keep to himself. He couldn’t stand to break you heart or the heartbreak he would encounter himself if you didn’t feel the same and rejected him. His shadows would still follow you or bring you comfort, if they were going on their own accord or he was sending them, he didn’t know anymore.

Not too long after Azriel stopped hanging out with you Rhys had asked for a formal meeting with the whole inner circle. It was there that he learned that the uprisings he had been watching the last few months were getting more out of hand and these camp leaders needed to be reminded who the real leader was. Azriel was instructed to go to the camp you grew up in and even though it wasn’t Windhaven, it was a close second. During the meeting he felt a slight twinge, he didn’t dare look at you because he needed to make sure it was the bond and not something from his shadows.

He left immediately after the meeting because if he took a moment to look at you his whole facade would fall and the anger he felt towards your father would be even stronger.

When he walked into his room to gather his belongings he found Mor sitting in one of the chairs across from the fireplace.

“When are you going to tell her and stop putting the poor girl through so much torture?” She asked without looking from the fire.

Azriel was surprised by the brashness from Mor concerning you. After he felt the bond snap he felt that she was the only one to trust with the information of you being his mate.

“I told you I’m waiting until she feels the pull herself. I don’t want to freak her out before she’s ready. Now if you don’t mind I need to go beat the life out of her father.” He said with a scowl.

“Do you really think-“

“No I’m not thinking, that’s what she does to me and all I know is that I finally have the opportunity to bring pain tenfold of what he dealt to her back to him and that’s what I’ll do.” And like that he left.

When he returned from the camp he lifted the shield around the bond to see if maybe you felt it but there was nothing there. So, as he and Cassian passed you in the dining room he didn’t let his gaze fall to you but, he did dispatch a shadow to you, just to make sure you were ok. That’s what he told himself.

Then there was a day it all changed. He stopped is lonely training sessions and joined everyone else in hopes of seeing you but you weren’t there.

“Has y/n been coming at a different time to train alone?” He asked Cassian

“No, she hasn’t been around for a few days, I tried to check in on her but apparently she’s gone. Rhys said some sort of secret mission. I thought you would now about Mr.Shadowsiger.” Cassian responded. Azriels world turned on its axis. You were gone and no one told him.

He left the house of wind and went right to the river house where he knew Rhys would be in his office, he needed answers.

“Where have you sent her and why wasn’t I made aware of it?” Azriel basically yelled as he threw the office door open and practically off of its hinges.

“She said she needed to get away so I sent her away” Rhys said, face full of nutrality. Azriel knew he wouldn’t get anything out of his brother but he needed to try.

“Please tell me where you sent her before I send my shadows to her, I need to know she’s safe bec-“

“Because she’s your mate” Rhys finished for him.

Azriel was ready to beat his brothers face in because somehow he knew but kept it from him and still sent you away. Seeing the anger and worry on his brothers face Rhys tried to calm him down but the worry seeped from his being, and off his shadows went.

When Rhys saw the shadows disappear from his brothers form he reached out to you and although he was meat with a wall at first he knew a shadow had found you because he was able to easily break through your walls and all he could say was “I’m so sorry”

Tag list: @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @mp-littlebit

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Tartera lived in the mountains surrounding Velaris. 

Not unlike Hewn City, a whole world carved from the mountain. Hollowed out, held together by magic. Though, they had done it first. 

There were legends of her kind, of the first Tartera fairies being carved from stone itself. Maybe that was why they felt so at ease in the mountain. 

Oriana easily admitted that while she could withstand fire like every Tartera, she did like the sun and the fresh air. 

Cyrus hated going into the mountain. Probably not helped by the fact that he hated the fire as well. 

Still, once a year, for their grandmother’s birthday, they went into the mountain, Oriana holding a ball of fire in her palm as they made their way through the entrance, greeting the guards and then walking deeper into the mountain. 

It should just be around midday. Lunch promised to be a less formal affair than dinner ever had been, and her grandmother would probably be holding court like she usually did. 

Oriana had never actually asked how old her grandmother was. A few millennials maybe?

Her mother was close to 800 years old, after all, her oldest sister was around 600. 

Oriana was the youngest just over 200 years of age. 

But Cyra, Custodian of the Mountain…well, she was older than all of them. 

She could tell stories about things that hadn’t happened in centuries, about people long dead, a time before the great war…

Cyra had lived through it all. 

Still, their grandmother wasn’t the first member of their family that they met. That honour belonged to her brother Samson, a guard member that protected the mountain from…well, anybody that thought that they should get a cut out of the precious metals and gems they mined eyes day. They didn’t have many, enchantments and wards kept out…most if not all. 

He greeted them with a nod, a dark red cloak wrapped around broad shoulders, fastened with the traditional brooch, which made it obvious to what creed he belonged. 

“Cyrus, Oriana,” he rumbled, always a man of few words. 

“Samson,” she responded, having absolutely no qualms about coming up to him and hugging him, even when he never quite hugged her back. He never told her to stop either. And she knew he would do that if it really bothered him. “How has it been?”

“Not much has changed since last year,” he responded. “Titania was wondering when you two would finally arrive.”

Of course, their oldest sister would wonder. She was the first daughter of the first daughter after all. 

It marked her as 2nd in command to the mountains and their realm, if one could call it like that. 

They lived under the command of the Night Court but within the mountain, the word of her Grandmother was law. 

The word of Adara was law. The word of Titania was law. Then Althea, Titania's eldest daughter… 

Then Enya, their middle sister. 

It had never needed to go further down the line than that. 

Which was good for Oriana, because then it would have been her word that would be listened to, and nobody wanted that. 

She would make a really bad Custodian of the Mountain. Oriana wasn’t prideful enough to admit that. 

She much preferred the art of making jewellery over the art of ruling. Oriana would leave the ruling to her grandmother and mother and sister and niece. 

Oriana would stay in the forge. 

Still, she was the third daughter of the first daughter. If they kept to something as human as a title…well, then she would probably be something akin to a princess. 

A runaway princess. Who didn’t particularly like the title either. 

In the mountain, she was chattel of a sort. 

Not high enough in the line of succession to have any right to reign. But high enough that she had been used to broker an alliance between her family and Wynstan’s. Giving them a tertiary claim to her grandmother’s council table and cementing her mother’s claim to the headship of the mountain. 

“Well, here we are,” Cyrus responded with a sigh... “Just when we said we would come.” Samson just shrugged, all of them well used to their eldest sisters’ moods, and followed along with him to the Great Hall. 

Oriana pulled back her shoulders, patting down her unruly curls that escaped the bun she had urged it into that morning and then walked into the Great Hall behind her brothers. 

Their entrance was marked with the quietening of conversation until it finally ceased completely. Her fist clenched at that, but she said nothing, the smile on her face set in place, her shoulders back, every step measured. 

She wore one of her more traditional gowns, something that Enya had made for her years ago because she didn’t want to listen to her mother’s comments that she would make with near certainty if Oriana wore anything that wasn’t obviously Tartera in its origins. This was. This had her sister all over it. 

Complete with the belt comprised of chains and charms, that Oriana had made herself, every single one carrying her maker’s mark. 

She wore her creed openly, there for everybody to see. 

People stared. Of course, they did. 

Decades ago, the sight of Oriana had been common among the Great Hall, among the other fairies living in the mountain. 

She had worked here, lived along them. There had been no reason to think of her as anything but Tartera, even with her pointy ears. 

She had kept most of her abilities quiet, no fire dancing at her fingertips unless she was in the forge…no flames flicking through her eyes.  Then Wynstan…had happened, and her magic had been in a state of flux. She was quite certain that people had been terrified of her. 

Now…Now, with her only being here so rarely…well, Oriana was legend and myth. 

Oriana Fireborn, Third Daughter of the First Daughter. 

It was whispered behind her back. 

She wondered what some of them would think if they knew about what lay beneath the skirts swishing around her ankles. 

What she wasn’t wearing openly was the harness that kept the two knives Azriel had given her strapped to her thighs.  But it was still there, easily able to be accessed, thanks to the slits in the side seams of her skirt.

She highly doubted that she would even need them, but she was also quite sure that the only reason he hadn’t told her to wear them, was because he didn’t think she was going to agree to it. 

Jokes on him. She definitely agreed. 

Granted, the only person she had ever really thought about stabbing in the mountain was no other than Wynstan’s older brother Titus, but that could change.

And if the knives weren’t enough….well, she had Azriel’s shadows wrapped around her wrist, twisting themselves through her bracelet stacks, until it seemed like they were polished onyx and part of them. 

Her grandmother was holding court at the High Table. Even as tiny as her grandmother was, she still somehow seemed larger than life to Oriana. And the curtsy came to her like a second nature. 

“Oriana.” She was home. Old, wrinkled hands gently patted her cheek. “Let me look at you, little flame.”

She leaned into her grandmother’s touch, let the glamour that she kept around her eyes fall and her grandmother stared into the flames of her eyes, flicking merrily. 

Somehow her grandmother just seemed to know things. She stared at Oriana and a pleased smile appeared on her face. She wondered if her grandmother somehow knew about Azriel. 

“Happy Birthday,” Oriana said quietly. 

Her grandmother hummed. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told Oriana pointedly. 

Cyrus took her place as she rose gracefully and stepped to the side, dipping into a shallower curtsy as she reached her mother. 

When she was younger, Oriana had wanted to be like her mother. Otherworldly beautiful, bleeding elegance with every step. 

The one thing she had inherited from her was her height. Gracefulness had been something hard-won and definitely not inbred for her. 

And finally, Oriana had realised that while she could put on a mask of something similar to her mother if the situation called for it, she had absolutely no want whatsoever to spend every hour and every day like that. 

She was fine with that. 

“Mama,” she greeted her and her mother mustered her. She had the sudden want to twitch under her gaze and pat down her hair, but she didn’t. She wasn’t a youngling any longer. She was over two centuries old. Her mother should be well used to Oriana showing up, smudged with soot and still neck deep in the theory behind one of her enchantments. 

That was what she excelled in. 

“You are looking…well,” her mother finally said quietly. “Are you ready to come back to life with us properly?”

Of course. 

Regardless of how long Oriana stayed living in Velaris, regardless of how well she did there…her mother could still not understand it. 

Of course not. 

To her mother, every position within the mountain was higher than anything Oriana could reach outside of it. 

Within the mountain she had been one of the best, respected and even feared…Outside Oriana played at being a simple shopkeeper as far as her mother was concerned. 

“Not on a bet,” Oriana responded drily. “I quite like my life in Velaris.”

Her mother just sighed. 

“You were always odd,” came the voice of her oldest sister to her side and Oriana smiled at her. 

“Titania,” she greeted her. 

“Not bored yet of making nothing but earrings and bracelets?” Her sister asked, as always prodding and probing to find a chip in her armour. The problem was only that Oriana knew Titania’s playbook by heart. 

“It’s quite relaxing,” she responded evenly. “I think I of all people deserve that after what happened.”

Her sister softened. 

Regardless of how prickly Titania could be, there were a few things Oriana could count on. Titania would prickle and prod, but nobody else was allowed to do that same, or hell would rain onto them. 

And Titania adored her husband and daughter more than life itself. 

“I’ll never understand you,” Titania muttered under her breath, making Oriana laugh softly.

That was just the opening said husband and daughter needed to slide into the conversation, with Anthea happily coming bouncing right up and hugging her tightly. She had only celebrated her 20th birthday months ago, a child her sister had longed for desperately for decades until they had finally gotten her.

“Aunt Oriana!” Anthea sing songed. “So do I get a gift?” she asked her and Oriana couldn’t help but snort in amusement. 

“You aren’t the one whose birthday it is,” she pointed out reasonably. Anthea pouted. 

Oriana sighed, slipping off one of the many bracelets she wore. The one that she had made with Anthea in mind, a white opal inset. 

She held it out to her eldest niece, who snatched it up. 

“I am your favourite,” she singsonged. “Thank you!”

Toron, Anthea’s father, snorted in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Oriana’s hair. She glared at her brother-in-law. He gave her a bright grin in response. 

“You are all ridiculous,” Enya said, crossing her arms. The middle sister. “At least you are wearing a proper dress. I was terrified that the High Fae Fashion may have started to drag on you.” 

“I like my gowns. Especially this one. You made it after all,” Oriana agreed peacefully, taking a seat between Toron and Enya. 

“And what did you bring back for me?” Toron asked her. 

“You are too old for gifts,” she hit back with a roll of her eyes, amused beside herself.  

“700 years isn’t old,” he disagreed with a pout. 

“True, you are nearly a spring chicken,” Enya sniped under her breath. 

“Where’s Kiran?” she wondered, eyes searching around the room. 

“Where do you think he possibly could be?” Enya snorted in amusement. Right. Stupid question. Probably somewhere deep inside his forge. 

“How’s the leg holding up?” Oriana asked Toron and he shrugged. She looked down under the table as he pulled up his pants leg, showing the gold and silver prosthetic leg. He had lost his leg in the same accident that had killed Oriana’s father. 

The prosthetic leg had been made by himself, enchanted by Oriana and fitted by Enya, a healer by Creed. 

It worked a treat for him, still, it had taken decades to perfect it and Oriana still worried that it was going to stop working one day and she couldn’t fix it. 

She fixed everything. 

“All good,” he promised her. “Though I figured since you were here, you were going to take it apart once again.”

“Don’t think I have the time for it, I am not planning to stay longer than 3 days,” she admitted. “But I’ll check up on it.”

“Oh?” Toron asked, so much said in such a small noise. 

“I have things to take care of back in Velaris,” she admitted before she finally got to actually eat some of the food that was waiting for her. 

She slipped right back into the midst of her family. Now that she wasn’t with them year-round, she could appreciate them a whole lot more. Crazy, how that sounded. 

Still, she listened to the newest gossip that Enya provided and followed along with her sister as Enya dragged her to her room to get ready for the evening ball. 

“What have you done to your poor hair?” Enya asked her, pulling a grimace as she picked out the few dozen of hairpins that Oriana used on a normal day to keep her hair contained. 

It was long and thick and curly, and it never seemed to quite do what she wanted. So up into a bun it went, so that it wasnÄt going to interfere with her work. 

“Nothing?” Oriana asked and Enya growled at her. She knew better than to say anything when her sister got like that, dousing her hair in some kind of potion or other. 

She held her tongue, even when she worried about going bald. 

Still, whatever Enya did to her hair, for once managed to make it look…well, manageable. The curls were shiny and defined, and it was soft to the touch, falling to her waist in onyx black ringlets. 

“I’ll get you a bottle,” Enya muttered under her breath. “I can’t look at you when you look like that.” 

Oriana bit back the amusement. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t care how she looked. She was big enough to own too many dresses and way too much jewellery. But she was far removed from her older sisters, for whom all of that was a secondary calling of sports. 

If Enya wasn’t busy stitching up flesh, she was stitching up dresses. 

Still, Oriana sat through Enya’s primping and prodding with no protests, because that was how Enya showed her love. 

Oriana just snuck her jewellery in response. 

“You have a gown?” she asked Oriana, who just stared at her. 

“You mean a gown that you aren’t going to let me wear anyway?” she responded drily and Enya huffed. 

Oriana bit back a smile.

Enya did let her choose her own jewellery, let her pin back one side of her hair with a couple of pins decorated with white opals, her grandmother’s favourite stones. 

And then Enya brought out the dress. 

Marigold yellow layers upon layers of nearly shine through silk, so thin that everything could ruin it…so thin that it would be seethrough if there wasn’t so much of it. 

That together with a yellow-gold gem-studded belt that she had made for Enya years ago, so wide that it would cover much of her midsection. 

“I think it will look beautiful,” Enya told her, brokering no argument, already starting to unlace the back of her dress for her. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Oriana agreed as she pulled her dress over her head. 

For a moment, Enya was quiet. 

“Oriana.”

“Yes?”

“Any particular reason why in the world you have knives strapped to your thighs.”

Oriana would make a truly horrible spy, because she totally forgot that she had them. 

She had been so busy with…practically everything else that the knives that had been a comforting weight just hours prior had been promptly forgotten. 

Somehow she thought that Azriel would look at her with this face somewhere between amusement and tragic despair. 

“Call it protection?” Oriana suggested and Enya just glared at her. 

“Can you even use them?” her sister asked her. “Maybe we should have Samson show you how to do it. Before you accidentally stab yourself.”

“I can use them,” Oriana defended herself. “He taught me how to use them.”

“Samson?” Enya wondered. 

She bit her lip. 

“No,” she admitted. “My mate.”

Enya just stared at her. 

“Cyrus knows. Now you.”

And then there was only a soft shocked sound before Enya enveloped her into a tight hug. “Oh, Oriana. I am so pleased for you,” her sister whispered. 

Oriana knew that she meant it. 

Enya maybe didn’t want a mate for herself, but that didn’t stop her from being supportive of her.  

“When did it happen?” Enya asked her as she let her go, picking up the dress and helping Oriana pull it over her head. 

“A few weeks ago,” Oriana said softly. “I was just walking the streets…and there he was. I stumbled right into him.”

Enya would listen to all the details that Cyrus really couldn’t care less about. 

“So he's High Fae?” Enya asked her. 

“No,” Oriana answered. “Illyrian.”

“Illyrian,” Enya repeated, her eyes widening nearly comically. “He has wings .”

Oriana couldn’t hold back the laugh at that, because she had half expected that reaction though probably not for the reasons that one might think. 

“Oh yes, he has,” she agreed. Beautiful Wings at that. All of him was beautiful.  

“He can fly ,” Enya said wondrously and Oriana nodded. 

“He even took me flying with him,” she teased her sister. 

“I am so jealous,” Enya said with a sigh. “Does he have a brother I can borrow or something? Just for the flying?”

 “I’ll ask him,” Oriana volunteered and Enya just sighed once again, before shrewd eyes finally stared at the at the necklace that was still around her throat. 

“What about…” Enya started and Oriana interrupted her. 

“I am taking it off.”

At least she hoped she would. 

Oriana had a plan. 

She just hoped it would work. 

“You are?” Enya asked her, sounding surprised. 

Oriana just nodded. “Tonight.”

The faster she got it down, the quicker she was free of Wynstan and everything that marriage represented to her. 

And she didn’t want to wear the necklace anymore. 

She had taken notes after notes on it, written down the runic array she had used, and taken it apart…she would be able to replicate the protection she had on it. She was sure of that. 

Now she just needed to break it. 

“Why tonight?” Enya asked her quietly.

Of course, her sister was going to pick up on that. 

“Because nobody is going to be in the fire chamber when they are busy dancing,” Oriana answered honestly. 

“You want it to melt off you,” her sister responded, her voice flat. 

Oriana just shrugged. 

“I’ll sacrifice it. Return it to the mother,” she said softly. “It seems fair.”

And if the normal fire wouldn’t suffice…well, then she hoped that the eternal flame would be willing to lend a hand. 

“Why now?” 

“I waited for a century. I am not willing to wait any longer. ”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Her grandmother’s birthday celebration started with dinner and continued with dancing. 

Even Kiran came out of the forge at that, drinking too much sweet wine and having a grand old tie. 

And Oriana…well, she was happy that she got to dance. Even when the thoughts were crossing her mind of what she would be doing soon. As soon as the celebrations had started, when everybody was busy dancing…well. 

But right now she was enjoying herself. Right now, she was taking the opportunity to soak up the atmosphere and laugh when Toron twirled her around the floor. 

Or at least that had been the plan. 

But everybody knew what was said about best laid plans. 

She was twirled around by her brother, and then she suddenly wasn’t anymore, because the partners changed…and while it should have been Toron…well, Titus decided he should cut in. 

Which was just what Oriana needed. Not. 

Her former brother-in-law. He reminded her of Wynstan, a few inches taller, but the same dark hair, the same proud nose…

She could see her husband in his features, and somehow that was a specific kind of torture. 

“Oriana,” he greeted her, his voice cutting, even with just the simple word. 

“Titus,” she responded, forcing a smile on her face that hopefully looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. 

She was quite sure that she was failing. 

She tried to ignore the way his eyes trailed over her body, tried to ignore how the necklace heated in warning, and swallowed against it. 

She didn’t like this. Not at all. 

“You are still wearing it,” he said, his voice near mocking. 

“I am,” she agreed serenely. She was still wearing it. 

“You have been wearing it longer than the marriage was ever valid.” True. She was. “How does it feel to wear it when you are the one who killed it?”

Right.”

“How am I supposed to have killed him when it was his experiment?” she asked. 

She told herself that a lot over the years. It had been his experiment. He had been the one who had started it. 

She had just been…she had come in after it had already started. 

For years that’s what she had clung to. She had told herself that it was an accident. That Wynstan just hadn’t been careful enough. That it was a tragic accident and that if he had just been more careful, then it wouldn’t have needed to go down like that. 

And then…then she remembered every minute detail of what had gone down that day. 

 And she remembered…she remembered…she remembered how it should have killed her not him. How it had been supposed to kill her, not him. 

And how her own magic had responded, turning the flames away from herself and against him. 

His accident turned attempted murder, turned self-defence, turned…burning him to a crisp with all the might of magical fire that she had never pulled out of herself before…and hopefully never would again. 

“He made the mistake that cost his life. I was just caught in the crossfire.”

She said the words that she didn’t believe. The official version that people believed. 

“And you believe that?”” Titus hissed to her. 

She ignored that, ignored the stabbing pain somewhere in her chest region. It didn’t matter. 

“I believe that there is nothing I could have done differently,” she finally said, as she stepped back, as she finally could snatch back her hand from his grasp and get the hell away from him. 

She just knew that her eyes must be flaring, no longer the pitch black that she kept carefully pulled over them so that they didn’t terrify everybody that she met. 

The flames within her were flaring, licking out. 

Sometimes she could nearly feel it, the fire that she kept tightly leashed inside herself. 

Oh well, why not throw in some emotional turmoil when she was already at it? 

She shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Sneaking out of the Grand Hall was easy, faeries too busy with the celebration to give her more than a second look. And even if they did, all they expected was for her to be tired and walk to her room and be done with it. 

She wasn’t. 

A part of her calmed as she walked further into the mountain. Down and down and down, right there into the middle, where the fire chamber resided. 

A circular room, deep into the mountains. And if one looked up when they stood inside it, one would be able to glimpse the night sky through the near tunnel-like opening at the top. 

The ground and walls were smooth through millennia of use, black and sooty. 

Opened the door, walked into the room, and closed it again. 

She was home. 

Regardless of where she lived, in the mountain or in Velaris, in her tiny apartment…there was one place that was always going to be her true home. 

And that were the flames flickering before her. 

Maybe it was because she had been born into their embrace. Maybe it was because like called to like and the fire within her recognised its kin. 

Maybe it was just her mind making it all up. 

But as she stood there, before the first ring of fire…she relaxed. 

It was the work of minutes as she pulled her dress over her head and left it carefully folded laying on one of the ledges in the wall, pulling off every bit of jewellery that she wore, the knives Azriel had given her…all of it. 

Until she was left in her wedding necklace and nothing else. 

She prodded off the shadow of her wrist. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she promised them quietly when they seemed to cling to her. 

Mistress, what are you doing? they asked her, their many voices intertwined in one. 

“I am going to take off my necklace,” she explained. “And for that, I need to walk into the fire. I don’t want you to get hurt in the flames. They won’t do anything to me, but I don’t know how they’ll react to you.”

They listened to her, but they still seemed anxious as they skittered away. 

It was going to be fine. 

She had thought about it. Nothing should happen. The fire should melt off the necklace, the enchantment would break, and all would be well. 

Oriana stared into the shadows for just a moment, feeling deep inside herself for that glowing string of fate, tied around her rib. She pushed all the love she had for Azriel into it. 

And then she turned and walked into the fire. 

At first, nothing happened. 

The first circle wasn’t even knee high as she breached it, but it immediately roared to life as she stepped through the boundary. 

Nearly playfully, the flames flicked along her skin, their heat a balm to her that not a lot of things would be able to replicate. 

She stood there for just a moment, waiting for the necklace to heat up, for the metal to grow molten and bendy. 

The outermost ring was the one they used for their ceremonies. The flames had been used to close the necklace in the first place. As a child, she had been passed through them at the blessing ceremony that came after her birth. She had walked through them when she had bled for the first time and became a woman in the eyes of her people. 

And she had been born into these flames like not many were. Her mother had chosen to give birth here, after a difficult pregnancy, hoping that this would mean that her child would be blessed. 

Oriana often wondered if that was the reason why her powers were as strong as they were. 

The flames that had seen her first minutes on the earth spilt upwards. 

But still, the necklace didn’t budge. 

She reached up, feeling the necklace heat up against her skin and she hissed as she felt that the fire was magical in nature. 

She didn’t have much time. 

Normal fire couldn’t hurt her, could hurt no Tartera. But Magical Fire was another question entirely. 

She had no other choice. 

She had hoped that the first ring would be enough, but she should have known that it wasn’t. 

She pushed herself through the next ring, and could nearly feel how that fucking necklace was already lashing out at her, her own magic turning against herself. 

Oriana had been so fucking stupid and now she was paying the prize for it. 

The heat kicked up so high that it was nearly making her nauseous 

Still nothing. 

Magic swirled around her as she clenched her teeth, as she tried to ignore the heat and the pain and the fear that wanted to grip her as she breached the third circle. 

This was too much. She shouldn’t have done this. She knew that. 

The heat was too much, the magic growing stronger in every consecutive circle. 

One didn’t simply walk through these circles. 

They protected the eternal flame within them and they were going to kill her if they judged her purpose to be anything but pure. 

And to be honest, it wasn’t pure.  It was desperate. 

I am sorry. I am sorry, she chanted desperately in her mind, hoping that this would be enough. Just the third circle. That needed to be enough. 

I can’t wear it anymore. I was stupid, but I just wanted to be free. When I made it, I just wanted to protect myself. I just didn’t want to be in the same situation again. I didn’t want to be bartered off. I just wanted to be safe…

She felt more than heard the magical crack. 

she forced her eyes open, even when the heat and pain of the necklace burning against her throat, seemingly making it impossible to breathe forced her against the stone floor, the fires of the third circle still burning around her. 

The Eternal Flame lit before her, in the very centre of the rings. 

Every Year, when it was time, the oldest of their people sacrificed themselves for its continued revival. Walked through the rings and never came back. 

The flame brought them into their afterlife, and in return, the magic of the donors wrapped itself around the mountain and the Tartera. 

Purely Magical. Eternally old. 

If Oriana petitioned it and it found her lacking, it would kill her. Or it would kill her anyway. 

Sometimes, very rarely. The Eternal Flame gifted a piece of itself to make it possible to forge something from it. 

Never enough for more than a single thing. Never given to anybody more than once. 

And now…now there she was, on her knees in front of it, and the necklace was going to kill her soon if she didn’t…

I want to be with my mate. 

I just want to be with him. 

Please. Please. Please. 

Please take it from me so I can be free. Please. I just want to be with him. I just want to love him. To cherish him. To protect him. 

She had been born into these flames. 

And so she reached out to them. 

They rushed up and up and up, the heat too much. 

They enveloped her once again like a favoured child. 

She gasped, tipping forwards, feeling the heat rush through her, feeling the magic of it punching through her, painless and quickly, her own enchantments not a single match to the powers of eternity. 

It pushed through every cell of her being, her own power feeling like kindling for it. 

And still…she wasn’t scared. 

The eternal flame was nothing more than gentle lickings of warmth against her skin, a roaring inferno to anybody else, white and blue as it took from her and melted away her necklace like it had never been there. 

She swore she could feel amusement coming from it as it cradled her close. 

“You are all my children after all, Little Flame.” the flame whispered to her and Oriana wished she could respond, but she couldn’t. “Love him. Cherish him. Protect him.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[danikamariewrites]

could i request one with rhys x reader with him being a MASSIVE simp for reader, like rhys is in a meeting at the NC and he is so irritated. Reader comes in bc she’s needy and doesn’t care ab the others there she needs rhys. his eyes soften when he sees her enter the meetingroom, she sits on his cock and rhys is irritated that the others are looking/stopped talking and says

”what are you looking at, keep going😒”

Meetings With You (SMUT)

Rhys x reader

A/n: this is my favorite “trope” anon so thank you for requesting it bc I haven’t thought of it yet and now I’m disappointed in myself🫣 like as soon as I saw this request I had to write it

Warnings: smut, daddy kink

Rhys was perpetually bored. This meeting was going on for far too long. Kier was clearly dragging things out hoping to get what he wanted. Or hoping that Rhys would get bored of him and compromise. He didn’t like staying in the manor at the Court of Nightmares for long. Especially when you were with him. Rhys never wanted to put you harms way.

Truthfully, he wanted to be with you right now. The last time he saw you was early this morning when he kissed you goodbye as you slept. Rhys would’ve brought you to this meeting but he knows how much you hate being around Kier and he’d never make you uncomfortable.

The room finally fell into a lull as everyone collected their thoughts and whispered amongst each other. Rhys was about to lean over to whisper something to Azriel when a knock sounded at the office door. He rolled his eyes, flicking his wrist to let the door slowly creak open.

When you see everyone sitting around the meeting table you drop your head a little and start to fidget with your fingers. You look at Rhys through your lashes, all the stress seemed to,have left his body the second he laid eyes on you. You were so cute when you got all shy and quiet. “Sorry,” you mumble, “I’ll just go.”

Before you could leave Rhys was up and cleared the room in a few strides, gently taking your hands and kissing across your knuckles. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling.” He purred with a small smile. “What can I do for you?” You scanned the room behind him, catching Kier roll his eyes at the back of Rhys’ head. “Hey,” his smooth voice echoed in your head. Your gaze snapping back to him. “Don’t worry about them. They don’t matter. You matter. Now, what did you need me for princess?”

“Just missed you. And wanted to be with you.” You gave him a small smile that he returned. “Would you like to sit with me? It shouldn’t be much longer anyways.” You nod and Rhys leads you over to his seat. He pulls you onto his lap wrapping an arm around. Rhys traces circles on your lower back with his fingers while you rest your head on his shoulder, making yourself comfortable.

You can feel eyes on you. You move slightly to look around but Rhys keeps you held firmly to his body. “Let’s continue shall we. And don’t stare gentlemen, it’s rude.” Dark power flickers in his eyes as the males quickly turn the attention to anywhere but you. Kier and one of the governors begin bickering and you feel Rhys tense under you.

You start tracing patterns on his chest, moving your eyes to gaze up at him. “I lied earlier.” You whisper in his mind. Those stunning violet eyes flicker down to you, then back up. “About what princess?” “I didn’t just want to sit with you. I need you. Need you inside me.” Your needy tone catches Rhys off guard, letting it show in his face.

He quickly throws a shield up to mask your scents as you move to straddle him, burying your face in his neck to leave small seductive kisses, and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Please daddy, want your cock so bad.” Rhys bites his lip to hold back his moan. You feel the bulge in his pants rub against your thigh. “Fuck princess. I’ll give you what you want but you have to stay still.” You nod against his neck.

Rhys reaches his hands down to undo his pants, freeing his cock. He pushes your skirt up your thighs so you can sink down on him easily. “No panties? My naughty princess.” A tiny moan slips through your lips as you fully sit on Rhys’ cock. You hear the conversation stop for a second and then continue as if nothing interrupted the males political discussion.

“What are your thoughts High Lord?” One of the governors asks Rhys. You don’t even hear his answer. You’re too engrossed in the pleasure of him just being inside you. Of being able to wrap yourself around him. You mindlessly start to grind your hips down on him. Rhys grips the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white. He bucks his hips into yours, signaling you to stop.

But you feel like testing the waters today. So you lean back a little. Bringing your palms to cup the back of his neck, moving your hips at an agonizing pace. Even lifting a little off his cock. Rhys scoops you back to his chest, you felt his chest vibrate from the growl he let out.

Rhys decided if you weren’t going to play fair neither would he. He lifts you by the back of your thighs so you’re just barley kneeling. Rhys starts to quickly fuck into you. He can tell your holding back your moans and he doesn’t like that. “C’mon princess, let them know how good daddy is making you feel.” A loud moan escapes you.

You can once again feel everyone’s eyes on you. “Is there anything?” Rhys snaps, “or can you leave us?” One of the braver advisors cleared his throat, “Y-yes my lord. Err, the-the-“ “Spit it out.” He yells, pulling you back down to sit on him again.

You let out a satisfied hum. The only thing on your mind is how good Rhys feels buried inside you. You can feel your juices dripping down your thigh, making a mess on his pants. Fuck, you just wanted him to throw you on the table and never stop thrusting into you. You press your face deeper into his neck as the conversation drones on. Rhys’ scent making you feel relaxed and feral for him at the same time. He strokes the back of your head as it to say ‘soon princess’.

“Is that truly all? Or do you have more pointless agendas to bother me with today Kier?” Chairs scrape against the floor signaling the meeting was finally over. They filed out, Cassian and Azriel leaving last. Rhys stood and laid you out on the long table. His cock still inside you. “Now where we’re we princess?” His signature feline grin gracing his lips.