#acotar drama

[copypastus]

Fandom is about smacking the dolls you like together like they're kissing coz it makes you happy, it's not that serious.

Reposting someone's work to ridicule it coz you don't agree with the pairing is bad etiquette.

@praetorqueenreyna silly hat Rhys inspired me @lorcandidlucienwill hope i can make you smile with this

[elrieltwit]

Wow, that post says so much about the person from a psychoanalytical standpoint. I would not be surprised if they have a narcissistic personality disorder diagnosis 💀

1. You bring up the fact that you can afford an LV Neverfull MM bag to flex your wealth when nobody asked? Clearly your self-esteem/sense of self seems closely related to and inflated by your socioeconomic status.

2. Mama, a Neverfull bag isn’t even a flex like you’re paying for canvas coated in PVC…it’s not even made of leather, nor is it well-constructed. If you’re willing to pay for an overpriced plastic bag just because it has the LV monogram on it and proudly rep that you got scammed, that’s your prerogative I guess 🤷‍♀️

3. Asking for someone’s personal information and selecting “an IELTS examination at the date of my choosing and I shall publish their results on the social media platform of my choice with added comments from me…I will make it all nice and legal with a contract and things…Want to play” was definitely not a “joke” given how grandiose your sense of self is.

By listing each of your ridiculous requests in the hopes of doxxing someone, you clearly show us how enjoyable it would be for you to be able to exert that level of control over someone. I’m 1000% sure you felt a rush of adrenaline while typing out and imagining this hypothetical scenario where you would get to humiliate someone so publicly. I know me and my Elriel sisters would pass that reading comprehension test with flying colors but that’s neither here nor there. We get it, you would love nothing more than to feed and bolster your sense of superiority.

No one is buying that any of the weird shit you said is a “joke.” Even if it was, it’s quite long-winded and very unfunny, so you might want to work on your material babes. Doing all that over ship wars is fucking mental.

​Why can’t we just stick to calling each other dumb with direct quotes from the text to prove it, like why does someone always have to take things too far and escalate to doxxing/threatening to dox??? Now THAT’S a funny joke 🤭

I'm sorry...what?

How is this acceptable?

Regardless of what characters you like, or what ships you prefer, if you promote this kind of behavior - YOU are the problem.

We are talking about fictional characters and threatening to doxx people over them, bringing shipping (which should be harmless) into a situation where it has real-life implications.

You want to doxx someone for what? To see them get hurt? Harassed? And you're doing this in a fandom full of women - many of which have found solace and escapism in these books where a woman escapes her abuser.

You are promoting this behavior?

As a fandom, honestly do better. Don't encourage this. Don't encourage toxicity.

[acotarxreader]

Mirror Part Two

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: High angst, drama, fluff, injury, Tamlin

Synopsis: After your abrupt exit from the night court you return to your worldly travels but the rising threat of war with Hybern has Rhysand seeking out his favourite weapon once again

Synopsis: You were gifted with the ability to mirror other fae's magic with a simple touch and your free spirit nature leads you to cross very close to the borders of a hidden city, where your future best friends and soulmate snatch you out of the sky to protect their border.

Inspired by Who's Afraid of Little Old Me & My Tears Ricochet by Taylor M.F Swift

A/N: Welcome to part two of this dramatic guy! Sorry for the lil wait! Let me know what you think friends!

I think I'm gonna write my first Eris fic hehe

Requests Open

Part 1

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The War with Hybern

You passed through the mist like the shadows of the night that swaddled you, deep south in Prythian, practically in the Mortal Realm. Spring Court had crumbled to the weeds and whims of the High Lady of Night, your mortal enemy that you never met. You drifted from the face of the earth like the ghost Rhysand’s neglect had turned you into, banished to exile from the world that broke your body before breaking your spirit. You adjusted to the loneliness with surprising ease, melting back into the solitary figure you were when taken from the skies above Velaris, your free spirit exchanged for a shattered one. The events of the budding war with Hybern came to your knowledge through the ever-winding grapevine of gossip and tales. The very escapades of your former family and its new members provided you with equal amounts of amusement and worry.

“Bad dog!” You flung your shoe playfully at the great towering beast at the entrance of the cave you were currently occupying, the green-eyed beast released a growl as he dropped the carcass of the freshly slaughtered deer on your doorstep, tracking blood all over the rock. 

“How I love your visits dear YN” He growled before tilting his head slightly and returning to the wild. You and Tamlin now had a shared interest in your hatred of the Night Court’s leadership, his welcome of your travels through the shell of his court for the first time in centuries gave you the flicker of a homily feeling you’d banished from your heart. You used the Spring Court as you had The Middle, as a base of operations before travelling to see every inch of the world you could. He offered to bring you to the countless run-ins he had had with the Court of Dreams as a new war with Hybern began to threaten the peace. You weren’t really sure if it was so much because of Rhysand that it was because of Azriel that you hadn’t returned, the shattered friendship too much to think of. You watched an onyx shadow leak from your knotted knuckles, the last trace of Azriel you had to hold on to. Your shadows pulled along the carcass of the animal, the sight turning something in your stomach. You shuddered slightly, a sense of alarm growing in you at something in your world being tampered with. 

You winnowed to the ruins of the Tamlin’s residence, the shell of once reviled power and grace much like the owner. Traipsing up the steps of the crumbling house, the sound of a male you hadn’t heard from in such a long time rocketed through your system. 

“Rhysand?” You heard your voice speak without making the conscious decision to, Tamlin lifted his head from his hands as he sat at the rotting table, Rhysand spinning with unusual unease at the sound of your voice. 

“YN-” He took a step towards you instinctively, you following your own intuition, stepping back from him. “-You’re here?��� “No need for the personal visit High Lord, if you wanted me dead you should have just said” 

“YN, I can’t believe you’re really here” He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised, his best had tracked your movements to the discarded court. 

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you. Why are you here?” You chewed out, the ghost of a smirk passing Tamlin's face. 

“Just visiting the High Lord of Spring” “Why? Need him as a weapon? Find value in him now you need him for war games?” Your icy words plummeted the temperature in the room, Rhysands wings slumping. 

“YN, don’t be like that”

“You can leave, Tamlin like many others, do not need you to faux interest in our lives for them to hold value” You circled around the table, running parallel to him across the dissolving oak to land next to Tamlin as he sat back in his chair, quietly smug.

“So, are you in love?” You laughed at his question, Tamlin matching the sound. 

“No, I think you took any ability for me to feel that from me” Rhysand searched your eyes for the way you used to look at him, for any semblance of the female who’d cleave the world apart for him, for any leverage he might still have with you. 

“You’ve made your request Rhysand, go” Tamlin found some ounce of long-dead confidence in him to shun the Lord of Night. 

“Hm” Was all he replied, moving to dissolve but stopping to witness a small shadow leak from your fist, a sign you had potentially seen Azriel recently, not the truth which was that you had kept the shadows with you since you fled, the last connection to a feeling of home. He nodded his head, a small laugh leaving him before vanishing. You pushed the back of Tamlin's chair to turn him to face you in his seat. 

“What request?” “Hybern is preparing to rage a war, he needs further assistance” He practically whispered before standing again and crossing the ruins of the dining room.

“So I was right, he did just want you as a weapon” “Actually-” his hand landed on the heavy door “-He wanted you” Tamlin melted into his beast form once again, leaving you to think through the words, your eyes looking down to the scars the last Lord of Night had left you. 

—--------------------------

You winnowed to a high mountain top you hadn’t graced in some time, your eyes looking upon your formerly beloved home of Velaris, the word home like acid in your throat. You looked towards the Town House, the once monument to your love, a mausoleum to it now. You sighed aloud before turning towards the House of Wind, something calling out to you through the night air, an idea growing in you. the sound of your feet hitting the stone gently filled the library. The dark shrouded you with unnatural warmth as you called quietly into the hollow pit for an old friend of yours. 

“Little mirror, you have returned” “Bry, don’t be coy with me” You could hear the creature of nightmares smile through the shadows.

“What do I owe this long overdue visit my little mirror?” You could feel its energy swirling around you but keeping enough distance so as not to risk you mirroring it. 

“Hybern is planning to attack and I wish to know what side of the aisle you find your wonderful self on” You had thought of your old friend as the perfect addition to a team you had no plan on being directly involved with.

“They have not yet asked my little mirror” The chill of its voice met your skin with a flush of contrasting warmth, inspecting you for any trace of harm.

“When they do, bargain for something of little matter to you that they can���t refuse and then once you have completed your task, go free” “Indeed-” he hummed at your self-assured tone “-why bother trying to help them little mirror?” “Let's say it’s out of habit” you laughed lightly, the wisps of dark air feeling as though a grin could be felt in them. You looked up to the mouth of the pit above you, the faint outlines of bookshelves shrouded in darkness haunting above.

“Ask for a window Bry, you deserve to see the world you will once again grace” Energy graced over your hand in thanks so easy for you to capture and yet it had no value to you T when compared to the sentiment of what you had at your finger tips. The sound of footsteps up above had you jolting slightly, retreating further into the dark so as not to be seen. 

“Be safe friend” You whispered softly before winnowing out of the depths. 

—-----------------------------------------

Shadows sank into the cobblestone as you manifested on the singing streets, your feet felt light along the heavy rock, practically levitating towards your old haunt. You stood at the gate of the Town House, the shadows of the residence dancing across the candlelight in the window, happy fae dancing in the streets as if not in the presence of the creature they turned you into. 

The Town House was decorated to within an inch of its life, banners and streamers flowing freely from every corner as music sang through the house to the garden where the majority of the party was revelling in the moonlight. You followed the radiate path to the garden you’d spent years cultivating, willingly ignoring the changes to decor made by the new Lady of Night. 

You watched the Inner Circle at the bottom of the garden, your former family rejoiced in celebration of the birthday of a fae you only knew through stories of the Hybern War. Nesta glowed in the moonlight. You looked among the now expanded Inner Circle, Azriel noticeably missing as you took another step down the path, Cassian swirled Nesta around, you smiled genuinely at the sight, so happy to see him happy. The smile faded as Rhysand did the same to Feyre before they walked hand in hand to the other side of the garden, your once favourite spot, the perfect view of the Sidra. 

You found your feet taking you in their direction, slightly secluded from the rest of the Inner Circle. The sound of your steps on the soft grass made a silent sound that sent shivers down Rhysand’s spine as he turned to see you standing on top of the slope, staring down at them. 

The music seemingly stopped dead, your appearance at the party stopping the revelry like a record scratch as you spoke-

“Doesn’t look much like a war is nigh right now, now does it?” You clasped your hands in front of you, eyes burning into the former love of your life. 

“YN-I-” “This is YN?” Feyre stepped from behind her mate, her beauty illuminating the path up to you and you hated her for it, you looked around at the world you believed she stole from you but realised as quickly it was Rhysand who had committed the theft.  Feyre moved to close the distance between you both, stepping from her mate's grasp to practically square off to you. You could feel the power radiating from her, so tempting to take but would replace the last scrap of Azriel you had access to. Still, you enjoyed the thought of rattling Rhysand.

“Ah, Feyre, Rhysand’s lovely High Lady of Night, I don’t think we’ve had the displeasure of formally meeting” You outstretched a hand, she instinctively went to take hold of it, and Rhysand immediately pulled her back.

“Don’t let her touch you!” He ordered, some fae looking in your direction at the disturbance to their antics. “Who’s afraid of little old me?” You laughed again, it reverberating off Feyre’s chest

“Don’t go near her” “Where is this hostility coming from Rhysand, I seem to remember it was you who made the first act of aggression” You lifted the small cuff of your sleeve, the hint of a small arrow-shaped scar still marking you centuries later. 

“Leave YN” “You sought me out, I’m returning the visit” Feyre’s head darted towards her mates at the revelation.

“Oh? He didn’t tell you? My my always one for secrets Rhysand” you tsked, circling them as Rhysand’s father once had done to you, a hunter and her prey. 

“YN, I’m am celebrating with my family, if you could extend some courtesy and-” “Courtesy!?-” You scoffed loudly “-You crossed out the good years with me, cursed me the moment I treated you with the same respect you’d given me for years, banished me to the same solitude you used me to escape from! So you don’t deserve courtesy! And now, even when you are mated to pure power, I can tell you wish I stayed, you curse my name wishing I stayed! Your favourite fucking weapon!” Years of repressed anger flooded from you to the space between you and the mates, Rhysands face greying as he clutched onto Feyre’s hand like you may steal her away forever. 

“I-I didn’t do anything to you YN, I just fell into this world, this was hard on everyone” Feyre rattled out, your heated gaze landing on one of the most powerful fae to grace Prythian. You took a deep breath in before speaking again-

“Oh boo freaking hoo-” "You found yourself laughing coldly “-Figure out the Hybern thing by yourselves, I’ve already had enough” You span on the ball of your foot, striding up the very path you had designed to get the best view of the garden. 

“And those new curtains look horrific!” You called back over your shoulder to the mates before reentering the house you wished to burn to the ground with your vitriol. 

-

You returned to the now suffocating air of the Velaris streets, feet bouncing off the cobble as you walked down the hill, your muscle memory bringing you down the way to one of your favourite spots in the city. The moment your mottled shaking hands met the cooling brick of the Sidra’s boundary wall, the tsunami of tears you fought every day since leaving flooded your atmosphere. 

“YN?” Azriel crossed the same bridge you said goodbye to him on those years before, the paper bags containing Mor’s favourite alcohol smashed to the stone floor. The stream of oak-coloured liquid flowed to your shoes. Shadows darted around you like dogs flocking to their owner after a long time apart. You laughed at the feeling of them swirling around you, lightly nipping at your face in their own form of pecks to the cheeks, banishing tears. You managed to open your eyes between their displays of affection to find Azriel standing with pure shock on his face, arms hanging by his sides and wings dipping to match. 

“Am I hallucinating?” “No Az-” You smiled wide through tear-stained cheeks “-I came back to take another strip off of your dear brother” You watched him pinch his arm to ensure he was truly awake. Azriel then flew at you in a similar fashion to his shadows, wrapping his arms around you to practically crack your bones. 

“Az-You’re-suffocating-me” You managed, laughing again once he gave enough of a release to allow your lungs to expand. 

“Why is it every time I find you on this bridge you’re crying?” He wiped a thumb across a stray tear, your crooked hands holding his to your face before they could move back away. 

“I love the drama” you laughed through fresh tears.

“Why are you back YNN?”

“Well, Rhysand came to visit me in Spring Court-” an almost growl left Azriel in response “-and he’s in need of his favourite weapon again” A definite growl left him this time, his hands dropping away from you as he turned to look back up the direction of the Town House.

“I told him to leave you alone, I didn’t track you down for you to be used as-” “You what?” He turned back to your slightly tilting head.

“Well…you went radio silent on me, I had to make sure you were okay-” a shadow clipped his ear somewhat sharply “-We, we had to make sure you were okay. You left us” The last three words tinged with undeniable heartbreak, heartbreak you had felt yourself. “Az, I had to leave”

“But you didn’t have to leave without me” an element of anger leached from him.

“Az” “No, you left! Rhysand might have broken your heart but you obliterated mine! Chipped away at it over centuries” A sharpness never reserved for you cut into your skin with similar pain to what Rhysand’s father had dealt you. 

“Azriel I’m sorr-” “-It broke me every time you chose him and all he did was tolerate you! Tolerate the love I so desperately wanted! And now I watch as he gives Feyre even a fraction of everything you deserved and I hate that I didn’t fight harder for you! I hate it! Hate how he  weaponised and ruined the love of my life!” His raised tone bounced off the flowing waters of the Sidra, the sound of his century's worth of repressed resentment tumbling out of him like the small waves hitting the boundary wall. 

“YOU SAID YOU WANTED ME TO BE HAPPY EVEN IF IT MEANT RUNNING AWAY FROM ALL THIS!” “BUT I THOUGHT YOU’D TAKE ME WITH YOU”

“I SHOULD HAVE! I FUCKING SHOULD HAVE!" You roared back, an onyx shadow of your own making curling around your vibrating fists, Azriel’s eyes shot towards them, his hand taking a gentle firm hold on your wrist before you could bolt out of his life again.

“You’re still mirroring me” he whispered so softly you thought you imagined it.

“Yeah… it was all I had left connecting me to you, to my home, to someone who would always do more than just tolerate my love” You returned the words with equal tenderness, eyes fixating on your shadows swirling into his, your eyes illuminating like they hadn’t since first landing on Azriel’s. His hand slipped from your wrist to your hand, chasms and fissures of equal cruelty knitting into one another so the skin may feel whole again.

“YN! You don’t get to leave like that!” Your heads moved in unison to look up towards an enraged Rhysand, you released Azriel’s hand on sight.

“You don’t control where I do and don’t go anymore Rhys” you chewed back.

“I am regretful for what happened and how it happened but don’t let the little incident that happened between us stop you from defending your people!”

“Little incident?” Your chilled laugh returned, a shiver running down Azriel at the sound. 

“YN, be sensible here” Rhysand has his arms out as though trying to corral an animal as he steps towards you, Azriel instinctively standing between the two of you. 

“YNN is entitled to spend the rest of her life how she wants to, she owes us nothing” His hardened stare cut through his brother, shadows swirling around his feet.

“Az, we need her power to-” “-We need her to be happy, Rhysand. That’s what we always should have needed of her, we owe her everything. You took no issue in me destroying those who destroyed me, she should be given that option, even now” Azriel spoke with clear conviction, the words causing Rhysand to purse his lips in thought. 

“If she doesn’t join then she will succeed in destroying us by not helping us” He looked around Azriel to you, your thoughts racing at the words. You stepped back from the two brothers, your shoes crushing the glass of the smashed bottles. 

“Follow your own past decisions Rhys and don’t follow me” You dissolved in front of the two as they began to argue once again. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------

That day you watched Tamlin ready what little forces he had, the thought of your former family defending your homeland without your intervention ultimately being your deciding factor to join. That and the thought of giving Rhysand any semblance of moral high ground. 

You transversed the battlefield in a shielded shadow, blasting the enemy as you flew alongside the Illyrian-winged warriors. A blood-curdling call of a female you didn’t know drew your attention downward as Cassian flew down past you towards her, too fueled with adrenaline to notice you follow closely as sudden strikes of pure cauldron power shot down and destroyed the warriors you had just flown alongside. You landed on the battlefield with such force it split the soil, Cassian’s head turning towards you rapidly locking eyes on you as you both found yourselves smiling at one another. 

“YN, you came!” “I miss you Cass, stay alive” You called back before bolting back into the now-cleared skies as more and more warriors rose to replace the fallen. From above, you covered Feyre unbeknownst to her, the collective goal having more importance in this moment. You watch as she reaches the cauldron with Amren allowing you to double back and continue your onslaught. Rhysand’s true beast form rises from the ground and you feel a bolt of fear at the pure sight of him. You swoop down to meet his side as he tears into the enemy, Helion dashing to join his side as he reforms himself into his beastly counterpart. 

“YN!!!” Rhysand roars down to you as you sprint around him, you leap on top of a razor-sharp talon as he shoots towards the sky, your knotty hand pressing into the scales of the High Lord. The feeling of familiar pure unadulterated power coursed through your veins, never did you think you’d mirror the High Lord again, the traces of betrayal tinging the power as it blasted from your outstretched hands to mist a sizable amount of enemy forces. Bryaxis coursed around you, shielding you from any retaliation as Rhysand and Helion unleashed on the battlefield. 

“I have to get to Feyre!” You hear Rhysand screech out as you cover him along his way towards his mate, the shift in the air undeniable as Amren is released from her bindings. You defend the space the cauldron occupies, allowing Rhysand to rush to Feyre’s side. Something cracks deep in you as you hear the High Lady of Night shriek in pure pain, fearing Rhysand has taken his final breath. You winnow to Tamlin as he sinks tendrils of power into some stragglers of the Hybern arm. 

“Tam! With me!” He has no hesitation in taking your hand, you winnow with him to where the cauldron claimed its price, Feyre begging for help from the High Lords. A chill shoots up your spine, rattling your bones. Your face hardened before you reached for Helion’s hand, mirroring his energy before you sank back into the shadows, following your own thread to land alongside Azriel, his wings in tatters as you dropped to his side. 

“YNN” he writhed out in pain, your arms encapsulating him, you feel Helion's power course through you as you attempt to heal him back to whole, your own body crying out in pain from the events of the war.

“It’s okay Azriel I’m here, I’m here” Your tears fell into his hair as you clung his head to your chest, his own heartbeat struggling to match yours. The light flowed across your disjointed digits, stitching the centuries-old wounds together as it poured into Azriel.

“I wish I didn’t let you leave that night YN” “I wish I didn’t leave you that night” You cried out, gently rocking him back and forth, his hand landing on your forearm to hold you closer. 

“I wish to carry a piece of you with me forever YNN”

“You can have all of me Azriel” You stretched down to meet his lips before he used what little energy he had to lean in, fully surrendering to every dream he dreamt of you from the moment you pulled the knife from his wing centuries ago. The glow that radiated from your energy returned and Azriel once again wished to bask in it for the rest of his days. His torn flesh stitched together as the healing energy flowed between the two of you. The feeling of home you never thought you’d have again blazed through every cell until it was just you, Azriel and shadows of onyx mirroring one another's endless hope for the future. 

-------------------------------------

Whatcha think?

Tag: @saltedcoffeescotch @popcornlauncher @notepaper @panther-girl-124 @mirandasidefics @slightlyjaded @moonlwghts @tsunami-of-tears

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Shadows of Destiny

Summary:

Amidst the turmoil of a heated argument, an explosion forces Y/N to protect Azriel, resulting in both of them being injured. As Y/N tends to Azriel's unconscious form, the mating bond snaps into place, revealing their deep connection. When Azriel awakens, he must confront his feelings and the bond that has been hidden for years. Together, they face their newfound reality, united by a love that can withstand any challenge.

Word Count: 1118

Warnings: This story includes scenes of violence and injury, emotional distress, and themes of fear and guilt. There are mentions of medical procedures and some explicit language. If any of these topics are triggering for you, please read with caution.

The training room echoed with the clash of steel and the heavy breathing of the two combatants. Azriel and Y/N had been sparring for hours, their frustration and emotions fueling every strike and parry. The tension between them had been building for weeks, and tonight it had finally reached its breaking point.

"You're holding back!" Y/N shouted, her voice trembling with anger as she swung her blade at Azriel.

He deflected the blow with ease, his expression hard. "I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N."

"I don't need your protection, Azriel!" she snapped, stepping back to catch her breath. "I need you to treat me like an equal."

Azriel's jaw tightened as he lowered his sword. "You are my equal, but that doesn't mean I want to see you hurt."

Y/N’s eyes flashed with fury. "You don’t get it, do you? You never do! I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be coddled. I’m a warrior, just like you!"

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, mirroring his agitation. "I know you’re strong, Y/N. But I can’t just turn off my feelings for you. I care about you too much."

"Care?" Y/N scoffed, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. "You think this is about care? It’s about respect. If you can’t respect me as a warrior, then what’s the point?"

Azriel took a step closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "I respect you more than anyone else. But watching you get hurt... it tears me apart."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?"

Before Azriel could respond, a sudden explosion rocked the training room. The walls shook, and debris rained down around them. Y/N’s eyes widened in horror as she saw a large piece of the ceiling break free, heading straight for Azriel.

Without thinking, she lunged forward, pushing him out of the way. The debris struck her instead, knocking her to the ground. Azriel scrambled to her side, his shadows wrapping around them both protectively.

"Y/N!" he cried, his voice filled with panic.

She groaned, pain shooting through her body. "I'm fine," she managed to say, her voice weak. "Just... get us out of here."

Azriel scooped her up in his arms, his heart pounding with fear and guilt. He carried her out of the training room, his shadows helping to clear a path through the rubble. Once they were safe, he laid her down gently, his hands trembling.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he whispered, his voice breaking.

She nodded weakly, her vision blurring. "Azriel..."

As she lost consciousness, Azriel’s heart shattered. He had failed to protect her, failed to keep her safe. The guilt and fear consumed him as he held her close, his shadows wrapping around them both in a protective cocoon.

Y/N awoke in the healing quarters of the House of Wind, her body aching but her mind sharp. She tried to sit up, but a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Easy," Majda, the healer, said softly. "You’ve been through a lot."

"Azriel," Y/N gasped, her heart racing. "Where is he?"

Majda’s expression turned somber. "He’s alive, but he’s in bad shape. He shielded you from the worst of the explosion. He hasn’t woken up yet."

Y/N’s heart clenched with fear and guilt. She had pushed him out of the way, but he had still been injured protecting her. "I need to see him."

Majda nodded, helping her to her feet. "He’s in the next room. But you need to rest too, Y/N. You’re still recovering."

Y/N nodded, but her focus was on Azriel. She moved to the next room, her heart breaking at the sight of him lying unconscious, his body covered in bandages. She approached his bedside, tears streaming down her face.

"I’m so sorry, Azriel," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "I should have been more careful."

As she touched him, a sudden warmth spread through her, and she gasped as the mating bond snapped into place. It was an overwhelming sensation, a connection that went beyond anything she had ever felt. She knew, in that moment, that Azriel was her mate.

"Azriel," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please wake up. I need you."

Days passed, and Y/N stayed by Azriel’s side, her heart aching with the knowledge of their bond. She spoke to him, telling him stories and sharing her feelings, hoping that her voice would reach him.

Finally, one evening, Azriel stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented. When his gaze landed on Y/N, a wave of relief washed over him.

"Y/N," he croaked, his voice weak.

She leaned forward, tears of joy streaming down her face. "I’m here, Azriel. I’m right here."

He reached out, his hand trembling as he cupped her cheek. "I thought I lost you."

She shook her head, her heart overflowing with love. "You saved me. You always save me."

Azriel took a deep breath, his eyes filled with emotion. "Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you."

She nodded, her heart pounding. "I know. I felt it too."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You did?"

She smiled, her tears falling freely. "Yes. The bond... it snapped into place when I touched you. I know you’re my mate, Azriel."

Relief and joy filled his eyes as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. "I’ve known for a while," he admitted, his voice trembling. "But I was afraid. Afraid of what it would mean for us."

She held him close, her heart bursting with love. "We’re in this together, Azriel. Always."

Their lips met in a desperate, passionate kiss, the weight of their words and the bond between them igniting a fire that had been smoldering for too long. They poured all their frustration, love, and longing into that kiss, finally allowing themselves to embrace the bond that had been waiting for them.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads remained pressed together, their breaths mingling. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around them both, a protective cocoon that shielded them from the world.

"I love you, Y/N," Azriel whispered, his voice filled with reverence.

"I love you too, Azriel," she replied, her heart full and whole.

In that moment, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united by the bond that had finally snapped into place. Their love, forged in the heat of argument and tempered by their shared strength, was unbreakable. And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew they had found their true home in each other.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Honestly I cannot emphasize enough how acotar fandom drama is my favorite fandom drama. Other fandoms have "popular blogger lied about being a queer POC with AIDS to justify writing slash fic." We have "no don't depict that character I don't like it."

[sonics-atelier]

I present to you some memes in honour of Elaingate ( thank you @praetorqueenreyna for the tag 🙌 )

Bottom line - Stop being a bunch of hypocrites 💖

[gwandas]

I just wanna say I love neris shippers for minding their own business 🫶🏾

[tamlintamwh0re]

It's whack to me how sjm wrote the perfect princess x cottagecore fantasy in the first acotar book and then decided "nah, I'd rather write a new york girl boss fantasy"

[achaotichuman]

How all the drama in the event weeks reads to me

[bloomingdarkgarden]

For Him the Bellflower Tolls Confessions in the Rain

Rated M | Angst, Emotional Confessions, Language | 4,8k A Valentines treat for you beauties and @sjmromanceweek Read on AO3

There were more scars on Elain’s slender, elegant hands than stars in the night sky. But nobody seemed to notice. Those elegant hands fidgeted with the dusty pink skirts of her gown as she stood near the townhouse’s great wide windows- admiring her morning efforts in the rosebeds down below. Gardening was a far bloodier business than warfare. A battle of hope and life and loss and grief, only death was far quieter in the end. So nobody seemed to notice. “Remind me again why I’ve agreed to this?” Elain hummed to Feyre, who stood at her back, tidying the loose curtain of curls which now nearly reached her waist.

“Because it’s been ages since Nesta did anything outside of Illyrian leathers and I need a night out.”

Elain couldn’t find it within herself to argue. It had been ages since the three of them even shared a meal together without any of the males hovering about, let alone had a night on the town. Feyre noted her silence and stilled her hands. "I know it's been a difficult week for you, Elain," she said gently. An understatement of the year. "If you'd rather be alone, Nesta and I both understand." Elain waved a hand, dismissing the entire subject she was alluding to. “Rita’s is just rather-” Elain chewed her cheek, “- loud, isn’t it?” Elain wanted nothing to do with Rita’s. But both of her tremendously busy sisters did, and in the end, the need to see them smile won out over most things in the world. “Nothing is loud compared to an Illyrian infant,” Feyre muttered darkly. Elain chuckled beneath her breath. Yes, this sort of night was in order. The High Lady of Night clicked her tongue with satisfaction as she surveyed her handiwork and Elain turned from the window to face her sister fully. Feyre shook her head appreciatively. “Stars above, Elain, little to no effort and you could bring any male in this kingdom to his knees.” Elain ducked her head, batting away the compliment. “I’d rather keep them on their feet, I should think.” It was a lie. There was one male she’d much rather have on his knees than anywhere else. But nobody seemed to notice.

※※※※※

A cool spring breeze rustled Azriel’s dark hair as he landed on a bustling Velaris street with Nesta Archeron in tow. As soon his boots hit the stones, the grey-eyed Archeron stiffened to a stance and glanced across the square. Nesta then paced towards a nearby cobbled lane, yanking him along in the process.

“Is that really necessary?” Azriel asked, voice clipped with annoyance. A shadow attempted to loosen her grasp on his wrist a moment later. “Yes,” she snapped back, not bothering to turn behind. “I was to spend tonight at Roseh-” “Brood to your brothers about it, you’ll see them momentarily,” Nesta waved a dismissive hand, marching on, leading him by the wrist. She turned east, leading them both down a long alleyway laden with twinkling strings of golden faelights. He was scowling now, unabashedly. Nesta halted before a dark wooden door with an iron latch. She turned to face Azriel, rolling her eyes at his silent disdain for being ever so slightly manhandled. Her brows wrinkled as she studied him head to toe like an equation with no solution. After a moment she straightened the collar on his shirt- a simple dark silk piece he wore once a year or so to nicer family dinners. “This was a good choice,” she said, approval tracing her sharp features. “For what occasion?” Azriel’s face remained cold, untrusting and unreadable as ever. Nesta saw through it all, of course. Nesta said nothing, but her steel-grey eyes glittered triumphantly as pulled the iron latch aside. Azriel studied the open doorway acutely. His shadows stilled from their usual idle swirling as if to taste the air. “Cassian and Rhys are not in this building,” he noted darkly, that scowl returning. “No they are not,” Nesta replied, and shoved the shadowsinger over the threshold. The rare, fleeting moment of clumsiness that followed had Azriel’s silent temper flaring as he stumbled into an unfamiliar room. He straightened, correcting his wings with a feline sort of grace and shot Nesta a glare that would send most people fleeing for their lives. Nesta merely shot him the very same look back. “Hurt her again and I will cut off your fingers and wear them as a necklace,” the eldest Archeron hissed, and slammed the door in his face.

※※※※※

Fairies began lighting lanterns and streetlights as dusk whispered across the Night Court skies. The air was damp with the scent of hopeful spring rain. Elain and Feyre strolled down a quiet street, arm in arm. The latter was admiring a beautiful painting on display in a nearby window when Nesta rounded a corner and nearly plowed them over. Elain grinned at her sister in greeting. Nesta smiled serpentine back, murmuring a quick “Shall we?” to Feyre before linking arms with her. The trio chatted as they continued down the lane towards Rita’s, but instead just before reaching the tavern’s wood-carved sign at the end of the street, Nesta made a hard right into an alleyway beyond. “Nesta, Rita’s is-”

“Oh, we’re not going to Rita’s.” Feyre remarked, pulling Elain’s arm just a little bit closer. Her sisters both quickened their pace, giving her no choice but to keep up. “We’re not?”

“Well we are,” Nesta chimed in, stopping before a tall, wooden door. “But you most certainly are not.” A moment later both sisters were hauling Elain over the threshold, and locking the door behind her. Squabbling ensued in the alley in which the words insufferable Illyrian baby could be distinguished. Elain had the distinct feeling that her nephew was not the source of those words. “Oh goodness,” Elain said softly, surveying the dark space around her.

A long, winding stone staircase spiraled up behind her. The steps were lined with candles and dusky primrose petals. Elain swallowed, realizing her two choices in this room consisted of causing a scene or following this mystery to its end. The civilized thing to do won out in the end, as it usually did. Up, up, up she went, soft skirts sighing against the dark stone. Elain reached the final step where another wooden door awaited- this one already wide open to a rooftop beckoning beyond. A warm night-kissed breeze wafted across her skin in greeting. Her breath caught in her lungs as she took it all in. A sea of flower petals blanketed the rooftop- faded primrose, lilac, and gardenia petals fluttering in the wind. A small, candlelit table in the center of the space held two plates full of food, and wine.

And there, leaning against the far balcony, stood a tall, lean, Illyrian warrior. A shadow-wreathed male looking longingly at the oncoming night as if he could hear every song dancing in the dusk-swirled sky. Elain’s heart grew very still and very quiet. Because nobody ever seemed to notice- that he could.

※※※※※

Flower petals stirred in the wake of each hushed footfall.

One foot in front of the other, Elain told herself.

An ebbing dark tide of shame still welled within her from the last time she had found herself alone with the shadowsinger.

This was a mistake.

But seeing him here, a creature of shadow and ruin in a vigil of forgotten flowers- somehow whisked it all away.

Elain knew all about beautiful things.

She had spent an entire lifetime growing, nurturing, and tending them- a thousand breathtaking roses, lilacs, blossoms of gardenia.

But Azriel put all the beautiful things of the world to shame.

Haunting hazel eyes that glimmered like a forge when they beheld her, and her alone.

Why did he always look at her that way?

His mussed ebony hair curled softly against the nape of his neck as it so often did when rain was on the horizon. Shadows whispering things she would never know, drifting in the wake of his beautiful wings.

One look from him and she ached like never before.

“Whatever is a fearsome warrior of night doing in a place like this?” Elain asked softly, stepping closer.

Azriel turned, long, dark lashes blinking at her in rapid succession before he lowered his head in greeting, a golden stain blushing his high cheek.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he said quietly.

Elain swallowed, smoothing her skirts and stepping towards the balcony. “You’re not alone in that regard.” She chose not to look at him.

Propriety came first, embarrassment second, anyway. Two pillars of her life that seemed to go hand in hand. She really ought to offer him a way out of this ridiculous situation. “You can leave- if you like.”

Azriel ran a hand nervously through his sable curls, shadows darkening for the briefest of moments.

“I can leave if that is what you prefer.”

But there was no point turning away from the truth, now that they were left alone with it in a grave full of flowers, so Elain clarified before he could continue.

“I’d prefer you stay, actually. However foolish that makes me.”

It was a long, long moment before Azriel said anything at all. He stared over the dark horizon- at the shades of violet and blue weaving in the cooling twilight.

“There is only one fool standing on this rooftop, Elain, and it isn’t you.”

The words, gentle and shameful, settled something within her. The smallest acknowledgement of the atrocity that had happened on Solstice. A few months ago now, but somehow the rawness of it all made it feel like only yesterday.

But more than that- there was her name.

How long had it been since she heard her own name on his lips?

Far too long A spring wind whispered.

“It’s been some time,” Elain said quietly, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “Since we last spoke.”

Azriel swallowed thickly. “Eighty six days.”

He looked as if he hadn’t slept a single one.

“Has it been?”

Azriel’s eyes sought her out and some unseen agony swam there- haunting that silent hazel sea.

“I haven’t slept either, you know,” she admitted.

He scanned her pale face, the loneliness carved in the hollow of her cheeks. “I know.”

A curious shadow began leaking down his shoulder towards her. Azriel seemed to yank it back momentarily, a hint of a scowl on his brow, but the shadow only leaked out again a moment later.

“Hello little darling,” Elain leaned on an elbow, cooing a soft breath towards his shadow, which flickered with delight.

Azriel swallowed thickly and seemed incapable of moving.

“I miss watching them flutter through the garden,” Elain murmured. “I used to wonder if they might watch over me in the darkest hours of the night.”

Azriel’s wing twitched as he registered her words.

“Would that-” his throat bobbed as he searched for the words. “- comfort you?”

The question was tender, disbelieving, as if he could not fathom a world where his shadows could be considered comforting rather than terrifying. He looked like the answer could wreck him for the rest of his life.

Elain smiled softly, staring over the city. “It might have, some time ago.” Her hands trailed the pale petals of moonflower blooming in a basket on the balcony. “I might have wondered where they go when you dream.”

She could sense him edging closer. As if the ache was deep within him too. As if it ran too deep to do anything but draw him closer.

“I rarely dream,” Azriel said quietly. “But when I do, your hair is unbound.”

Elain’s heartbeat began beating like a wardrum in her chest. She slowly rose her chestnut eyes to him.

Damn the forgotten gods, he was tragically beautiful this way.

Star-soft wind filtering that ebony hair into his eyes. The top button of his shirt was unbuttoned, and the breeze shimmered through the dark silk, whispering over the muscles of his chest in a way that made her ache inside and out.

She blushed, thoroughly, and allowed him to watch her through it. Allowed him to see that he was responsible for that color rising in her cheeks. That thrum humming in her blood.

“I might make use of that wine bottle if you are going to keep saying things like that to me, Azriel.”

Azriel stepped closer, shadows twirling in the wake of his footstep. “Forgive me,” he said softly, but there was no remorse in his gaze- only unyielding determination and soft, whispering hunger.

Five minutes alone with him and she was already imagining things she absolutely shouldn’t. But it had always been that way.

It would still always be that way.

“I know it wasn’t your intention, or mine,” he paused, “but might I share this evening with you, miss Archeron?”

The gods were particularly tormentful for making him such a gentleman.

Elain swallowed, hating the flicker of bitterness that coursed through her. “Should I expect any sudden departures?”

But Azriel had that look in his eye- that look of unbent will. That look that sent him charging into Hybern’s hell to rescue her without a second thought. That look that told her he needed to right this wrong, or die trying.

“There is nothing that could keep me from sharing this night with you,” he said softly, “aside from your command.”

Elain grinned, casting her eyes downwards.

“A shadowsinger at my command?” she hummed, turning to the night-kissed sky once again. “Whatever will I do with such power?”

“Whatever you wish,” he said, and the promise in his voice made her knees weak. “But you might start letting him pour you some wine.”

Elain cursed the stars above and the seas below for allowing such beautiful, bedroom-eyed, well-mannered males to walk the earth at the same time as herself.

“Very well,” she submitted, turning towards the candlelit table before he could catch sight of her face going up in flames at how perfectly wonderful it all was.

The smallest hint of a smile graced his lips- and gods, the promise of it blooming full before the end of the night was holy.

“I haven’t forgiven you,” Elain said quietly.

“You don’t have to,” Azriel replied, holding her gaze. “Just let me-

Let me watch you Let me want you Let me fix what was lost. “- let me look after you tonight.”

※※※※※

Elain decided there was nothing so lovely in the world as a rosemary-dusted honey fig tart. She wasn’t entirely sure what sort of witchcraft was at work here- but each time she or Azriel finished a course, the next magically appeared. There were perks to having the High Lady as a sister, she supposed. For years now, Elain had lived in the Night Court. But the wonders north of the wall, no matter how small, were still not entirely lost on her. She caught Azriel watching her more than once. Tracking her amusement with the magic, her appreciative noises as she ate. He watched her like it fed something within him far more than the decadent food on the table did. The pair did their best to make polite conversation about a variety of things that had happened in the absence that followed last Solstice. An absence at most family dinners that Elain had distinctly marked for weeks on end. They weren’t addressing that elephant in the room, at any rate. The meal wound to an end eventually and Elain found herself swirling the wine in her glass carefully as she eyed a note Feyre had left on the table. You are both so serious it is dull. Live a little. Damn the consequences. - F+N + Everyone else including His Majesty The last line was scratched in Nesta’s distinct handwriting. Elain wasn’t entirely sure what the quip about Rhysand was about. But she had noticed Azriel’s jaw ticking when he himself read the note. “I can’t believe Nesta did this,” Elain muttered, spilling a splash of wine down her throat. Azriel rubbed his temple gently. “I can.” The veiled, tired look on his face Elain everything she needed to know- that Nesta was giving Azriel hell as often as she saw fit. And despite herself, Elain smiled at her sister’s unbent fierceness. The shadowsinger deserved a little hell, anyway, after walking out on her those weeks ago, little did Nesta know. “How has training been?” Elain asked, studying the shadowsinger over her glass. “With Nesta and the others?” “Grueling. The Valkyrie have more determination than Cass and I did when we began training. With twice as much retribution in their blood.” Elain murmured an agreement and looked over the lights of the city, glowing below them. “I’ve stopped by a few times to pick up some books- the priestesses wish me to join. To train with you all.” Azriel’s fork stilled on the last bite of his lamb. She studied him curiously, sipping her wine. “Does that bother you?” The shadowsinger remained silent. “Anyway it’s a farce- I’ll never do such a thing. I doubt anyone would ever find me frightening anyway, even if I were to wield the sharpest blade in Prythian.” A trace of bitterness in her tone again. Born from a life of being consistently underestimated. Elain knew that softness was a far more formidable weapon than steel. She wore that truth daily as armor. But nobody seemed to notice. “You are frightening,” Azriel said quietly. “Far more so than anyone I’ve met with a blade.” Elain rose her eyes to his. The wine was warming her blood, stoking the flame of her courage. “Whatever makes you say that?” “I should think it’s rather obvious,” he said tenderly. And she saw it all in his eyes- the longing, the need- the hunger. “I wouldn’t mind hearing the words.” A challenge. She knew he would rise to the occasion. “Ask any male who looks upon you and he will give you the same answer,” Azriel murmured. Elain drained her wine to the dregs, resting the empty glass in the space between them. She rose to her feet and held his gaze before turning to the balcony again. “I’m asking the only male I want for the answer.”

The truth laid bare between them. Elain reached the stoned edge and inhaled before resting her back against the abyss of starlight, observing him openly. Azriel drained his wine as well before rising from his seat and stepping towards her on the balcony. “There is a certain sort of beauty that haunts an Illyrian heart,” the dark timbre of his voice danced down her spine as he stepped closer. “The song of the wind, which calls to our wings. The blood hymn of a battle on a long winter night.” The hazel of his eyes burned like a golden beacon in the darkest night. “The divine taste of honey between a female’s legs.” She was unraveling now, her knees weakening with the heat of his words. “Azriel,” Elain said softly. His eyes lowered to the swell of her lips. “And the more we yearn for such things, the more we live in fear of losing them.” He rested his palms on either side of her, caging her in. “In fact what frightens me far more than how beautiful you are,” he paused, voice lowering. “Is what I might do,” heat seared through his gaze “- to earn the right to cherish you.” The words shimmered with the truth of their reality. The mention of that infernal tie to another male she never asked for. Elain  watched as the reminder of that truth darkened his gaze not only with jealousy, but with sorrow. She wanted to chase away every last wisp of it that she could. “Can you show me?” Elain whispered. Azriel’s gaze flickered in response. “Can you show me the song of the wind?” His mouth curled upwards at the notion, yet he didn’t tear his eyes from her. “It might rain,” he said softly. “I don’t care.” A playful glint in his eye now and she would die a thousand deaths before watching it fade away. “You might regret asking me this,” he muttered dryly. Elain held his gaze, not allowing her will to falter. “I don’t care,” she said again, sinking a hand into that nest of curls at the back of his head. She savored the silken strands beneath her fingers and his shadows wrapped around her, murmuring cool breaths over her fingers. Azriel then slowly, carefully, snaked an arm beneath the back of her knees, cradling her to him and gods- it ruined her all over again. She looked up to him. He looked down to her. Elain traced the swell of his sensual lips with a delicate finger as Azriel carried her to the center of the rooftop. His eyes remained locked with hers, and they were both lost to time in a gentle trance. She was aching again with how beautiful he was. “Show me the song of the wind, Azriel,” she said softly. Azriel spread his great, dark wings wide, stirring flower petals and shadows in their wake. “As my lady commands,” he answered, kissing her fingertips ever so gently. Primrose, lilac and moonlilly swirled skyward with each beat of those mighty wings, as Azriel took flight. The blooms drifted back to the earth a moment later, littering the streets below with forgotten flower petals. Elain Archeron’s heart soared into the atmosphere along with the wings of an Illyrian warrior. But nobody seemed to notice.

※※※※※

It was a song. It was a song unlike anything she had ever heard before. It was wild and free and plummeting. It was dancing in the last hushed violet light of dusk. It was basking in the promise of rain waiting to fall from the clouds. It was tasting the gaps between the stars like night-rich wine. It was him. It was her. It was symphony. Azriel flew through the heavens like he never had before with her in his arms. He glided and twirled and dove through the atmosphere, each echo of laughter leaking from her lips chasing him higher. It did start to rain. But Elain was so taken with the light in Azriel’s eyes that she didn’t care.

※※※※※

Drops of rain fell like fallen stars onto the glassy surface of the Sidra as Azriel gently landed on the riverbank.

Bellflower bloomed along the verge- soft blue petals dancing in the wind of the shadowsinger’s wings.

The nearby boulevard was bustling with revelers of the night. Her family, undoubtedly, was somewhere among them. But Elain couldn’t tear her eyes away from the shadowsinger long enough to care as she slipped from his arms to her feet.

The quiet which followed the rush of the flight was deafening.

He was looking at her that way again, as if he might raise cities to the ground if she asked him to. And it was then that Elain realized she needed to know that it was all real.

That it had always been real.

“Why?” Elain whispered, her voice trembling. “Why did you say those words to me on Solstice when you knew it wasn’t true?” This was a mistake.

Azriel’s throat bobbed. He seemed for a moment as if he might avoid the question entirely. But the pleading in her eyes had him speaking instead.

“Because someone told me that being with you was wrong.”

Elain flinched as the words registered. A tangled web of questions coursed through her. The only one that mattered was the one she asked.

“And you believed it?”

Rain was falling, well and truly now. Azriel’s hands remained at her waist, a world of raw emotion swimming in his gaze.

“I wanted to believe it,” he said quietly. “I wanted to believe it the same way I want to believe I am unworthy of most beautiful things.”

Elain drew in a shaking breath, trying to fight back tears that were inevitably gathering.

Azriel brushed a raindrop from her cheek with a gentle thumb. “But one look at you makes me want to believe otherwise.”

Elain raised trembling hands to cup the shadowsinger’s face and willed every ounce of truth she could muster into her gaze.

“You are good, Azriel.”

His eyes shuttered darkly, raindrops clinging to his endlessly long lashes.

“If I ever had goodness within me, it died long ago.”

He began pulling away, that tide of self-hatred drowning out the hazel. But Elain couldn’t stand the thought of his absence now or ever again.

“You found me,” she whispered, turning his cheek to her. “You found me when I was drifting alone in that dark, empty sea.”

A seer. The Cauldron made you a seer.

“You found me,” Elain said again, her voice breaking on the words. “And I will live a thousand years without forgetting what it felt like when you carried me to shore.”

“Elain,”  Azriel breathed, covering her hand with his own.

“There’s something,” she said with a shaking whisper, “Azriel, there’s something I need to-”

Azriel searched her eyes in question and found no answer there.

Elain only skirted the heavy weight of her hair over one shoulder, baring her long, pale neck to him. She then gently pulled him down. Down, down, down, until she could feel his breath against her throat.

A moment passed. And then another, as Azriel softly inhaled the scent of her.

She could feel the blood still in his veins.

A shudder ran down his back, through his wings, scattering silver drops of rain to the grass below.

Azriel’s breathing grew shallow and then his hands were in her hair, carefully careening her head back, so that he might scent her truly.

A staggering breath escaped him and his grip on her waist tightened for the briefest moment. He pulled back to search her face, pupils blown wide.

“Is this-”

The words wouldn’t come. A heartbeat passed. Maybe two.

His voice was a rasp when he spoke again.

“real?”

Elain’s gaze tightened at the disbelief etched in his features.

“Yes,” she breathed, “Azriel, it is real.”

She was shaking now, all over, uncontrollably. “It wasn’t easy,” she whispered, her voice a rasp. “But it is done. He is more relieved than I am.”

Azriel stared at her. He stared and stared and stared and looked as though he was on the verge of collapse.

“I’ve told myself- all this time, the way you felt under my hands when I touched you,” he said softly, “was real.” His hands were shaking too now, tracing her cheeks, her jaw, her throat. “That the song I heard when I first saw your face,” he drew closer, “was real.”

Elain’s heart was fracturing within her chest.

“That all those nights spent staring at the stars thinking about you so long that I woke up bruised within,” he rasped, “were real.” Elain couldn’t breathe.

“It should have been you,” she whispered. Because nothing had ever been so precious, so right, so beautiful as the words leaving his lips. And Cauldron be damned for not giving her the choice. “It should have been you.”

The confession broke something in Azriel and those long abandoned instincts ripped free from their cage.

“Yes it fucking should have.”

And then his lips, his hands, his heart- were all upon her.

Elain parted on instinct and that first, holy taste of him had every piece of her burning alive. Azriel kissed her like he was starving and she kissed him like she needed to be savagely devoured.

His tongue was tender, savoring every taste of her he was allowed, claiming her mouth for his own. Those scarred hands were everywhere, clutching, stroking, pulling her into him, wrapping her in his scent like she belonged to him and gods she was going to die from this.

It was starfire and shadow and void and song.

It was symphony.

Elain loosened a breathless sob at the perfection of it all, tears mixing with the raindrops on her cheeks. But Azriel was there a moment later, kissing them all away.

She repaid him in kind for that, claiming him with her mouth so vehemently that she nearly knocked him over. Crowds of partygoers were stopping on the street to watch amusedly as Elain kissed Azriel like she was burning alive from the inside out. The promise of the wild, untamed night had strangers clapping, cheering her on and Cassian was whooping with delight somewhere far off.

But none of it mattered because Azriel was laughing under the fervency of her lips and fuck, if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing she had ever tasted.

It was symphony.

The rain was a lullaby as it struck the earth. The wind was singing as it blew through the grass on the riverbank. The bellflower tolled a lover’s knell that rang out into the night.

And Elain kissed the most beautiful male in Prythian like she could damn the stars with the kiss.

For once, everyone seemed to notice.

But as Elain Archeron claimed Azriel’s lips before all the world-

she didn’t particularly give a damn.

[lainalit]

Me when Tamlin slanders Ratass and his inner circle jerk during the high lords meeting

[animezinglife]

On the Shipping Drama

There’s not a need or reason to act like Elain and Azriel aren’t attracted to each other (or that they haven’t been up until our current point of the story). They, up until this point and as far as we know, have been or are. That is canon.

Elain and Lucien being mates is also canon. Lucien’s looks of longing and the suggestion that their bond is already powerful is canon. Elain is avoiding him right now. That’s canon.

Neither side is being dishonest about these facts.

I don’t understand this “us vs. them” mentality. I don’t understand the accusatory, condescending tones. There is no reason to downplay one side of this in personal favor of the other.

I am, quite obviously, of the belief that Elain and Lucien will end up together in the long run. It's my interpretation that she will truly begin to bloom with him in her life, and he will open a world to her bigger than she ever imagined. She will realize how much she’s capable of and that she can still appreciate and enjoy life’s simplicities. I fully believe even outside my own bias that favors both Lucien and Elain, she will fall in love with him on her own once she stops running from this idea she doesn’t have control in the situation.

She has a choice.

She could reject him, but she won’t.

At the same time, I'm very comfortable acknowledging that it's canon and natural (even expected) that she and Azriel have at least some interest in each other. We don't need to downplay the flirting or classic damsel/savior, dark/light/beautiful opposites romantic imagery in their scenes--it's there, and intentionally so.

So are the seeds that have been planted to take Elain and Lucien on a much bigger journey (than where they both currently are) together. We haven't gotten Elain's POV yet, but I have no trouble at all as a full-fledged Elucien preferrer stating that I don't think she feels anything romantically for him yet at all.

I think she feels the bond and doesn't know what to make of it.

I suspect it's extremely overwhelming and intense to her.

I have no doubt at all she finds him attractive--all of Prythian does, but she doesn't know Lucien yet. She will.

Both sides are right and, to be blunt, the fighting and drama is juvenile and ridiculous. SJM--regardless of how you feel about her writing--is pouring an ungodly amount of hours into these books, and she's juggling multiple series. The last thing any of us want (hopefully) is for the silliness to wear her down or kill her motivation. It can still reach her even if she wisely avoids social media.

We're all here because we enjoy these books. The vast majority of us on both "sides" love Elain and want what we think is best for her. We simply see that playing out and her finding her own strength differently; reaching her fullest potential differently.

We can't complain about the drama or fighting in a fandom and then directly contribute to it by pointing fingers just because we don't want to hear what the other side is saying.

"But the other side started it!"

It doesn't matter. The result is the same.

Let's not insult each other's or our own intelligence and simply love the characters and enjoy the story.

All it takes is for each of us to make our own choice to do so.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XVIII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, wanting to look his absolute best during the dinner his father had decided to personally invite him to. 

The corridor was empty and quiet, Eris was his only company as they both waited for Elain to finish getting ready for the evening. Lucien could sense she was equally as nervous to be spending more time with his family. 

He bit the inside of his cheek as he straightened his jacket. 

“Stop worrying,” Eris snapped, voice cold and uncaring, as if he could not be bothered to reassure his youngest brother. Lucien thought It sounded more like an order than an attempt to settle him. 

He sighed as he faced the High Lord’s heir. “Are we late?” 

Eris rolled his eyes, the torches along the walls flashing momentarily. “Take a breath and stop fidgeting, this dinner is a peace offering.” 

While his brother had not actually answered his question, Lucien was almost sure Eris would have made an effort to rush them if they were at risk of upsetting their father. He had once believed wholeheartedly that Eris would not let any harm come to him. After Jesminda’s death, he had come to the conclusion that Eris only had his own best interests in mind. 

Lucien looked at Eris as they continued to wait for Elain, questioning if his eldest brother fell somewhere in the middle of his assumptions. Eris had gone out of his way to ensure Lucien had been released from the dungeons, and had proven himself an ally to Elain. 

Lucien’s golden eye clicked into place and Eris turned to face him. 

Eris frowned as their eyes met, almost as though he knew exactly what Lucien was thinking about. The torches flared once more as he opened his mouth to speak, but the doors to the chambers opened suddenly and they both turned to face Elain and Cora. 

All of Lucien’s thoughts about what Eris might have said had they not been interrupted quickly left his mind as Elain walked elegantly into the corridor.

Lucien straightened as she approached, her dress was lovely, the material fading from black to orange, her skirts looking like the forest floor as they dragged along the stone ground. Like most dresses in Autumn, it was modest, and very little of her skin showed. Elain had pinned her hair up with the comb of pearls Eris had gifted her, and Lucien’s eyes fell to the pale column of her throat. 

Elain Archeron was stunning, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and Lucien suddenly became very aware of the scars that marred his face.

Elain looked at him and blushed, she paused, skirts in her hands as she spoke. “Sorry to make you both wait, it took Cora ages to figure out the ties,” she laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor, echoing loudly in Lucien’s mind. 

“Did it?” Eris raised a brow at Cora as she shut the doors to the suite and walked to Elain’s side. 

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she said, “I hate Autumn Court gowns.” 

“Some lady’s maid you are,” Eris replied with a scoff, clearly intending to annoy her.

“Do all the clothes really need so many laces and buttons?” Cora clipped, gesturing to the back of Elain’s dress. “Hardly my fault the females here have to suffer in such a fashion.” 

Eris waved a hand lazily and Lucien watched with great interest as his brother’s lips tilted up at the corners, flames in his eyes. “You should have stayed in Night, where the nobles have much simpler tastes.” 

Cora looked prepared to bite back a response, but Lucien pitied the poor female for having to put up with Eris’s moods and spoke before the situation could escalate.

“You look beautiful, Elain.” 

His mate blushed an even darker shade of red. “Thank you,” she said softly, trailing her eyes from his booted feet to the high neckline of his jacket. “You look nice, too.” 

Lucien bowed his head, keeping their gazes locked. It felt as if just the two of them were in the dark space, that no one else existed beyond them. 

Lovely. 

Elain was breathtakingly beautiful, and Lucien questioned the cauldron’s decision to make them mates. 

Eris cleared his throat, shattering the silence between them along with the illusion that only Lucien and Elain were present. 

“You also look very handsome, Eris.” Elain added as she reached for Lucien’s arm. He offered it to her without hesitation, and she grabbed onto him with no consideration. If it were not for the amusement ringing in her tone, Lucien might have been irrationally jealous at the statement. 

Cora hummed in agreement, and Lucien could have sworn a flicker of shock flashed across his brother’s features as he glanced at the Night Court female. “Are family dinners always so… formal?” She asked none of them in particular. 

Eris merely shrugged in response, “It’s not every night you welcome back an exiled son.” 

Lucien nodded, keeping his expression serious. “I’m so flattered.” 

Elain giggled at his side and Lucien caught himself genuinely smiling. 

“Wish your lady’s maid a goodnight,” Eris interrupted, “we should be going.” 

“I’ll find you in the morning,” Elain promised, waving at her friend as Eris began to walk away.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Cora called after them and Lucien almost snorted, knowing the evening would probably be torturous. 

Elain was comfortable as she loosely held onto his arm, her heartbeat steady, nothing negative making its way down the bond. Eris slowed his steps, letting them catch up, and he walked next to Elain. 

As soon as they walked up a flight of stairs, ensuring there was enough distance between them and Cora, Elain used the hand that was not holding onto Lucien to swat his older brother. 

“You could use her name,” she scolded, "it's not as if you don’t know it.” 

Lucien’s mouth fell open in silent shock. He wondered when his eldest brother might have last been chastised, who might have been brave enough to dare. 

“Whose?” Eris said, disdain dripping from the one word, although it was obvious he knew who Elain was referring to.  

Elain hit him again, this time with more force. “You could be nice,” she suggested, disappointment lining her lovely features.

“Being nice might actually kill him,” Lucien mumbled, but they both seemed content to ignore his presence. 

“Stop hitting me,” Eris said, sounding unbothered.

As Elain raised her gloved hand one more time, Eris did not miss a single step as he winnowed to Lucien’s side, maintaining their pace effortlessly. 

Elain attempted to get through to him one last time, leaning past Lucien so she could frown at him. “It’s rude, Eris,” she observed. “You ought to know as much.”  

Lucien could have told her that arguing with Eris was akin to arguing with a stone wall, but he watched as they interacted, surprised at how comfortable they seemed to be with each other.

“Remember yourself at dinner,” Eris warned, “I’m not too sure that the rest of my brothers will appreciate your more violent side.” 

While Lucien could tell Eris was not being serious, he felt as Elain tensed, clearly worried by the words. 

Lucien shot Eris a glare, but his brother had already begun to speak, paying attention only to his mate.  

“You’ve managed to charm even my father, Elain Archeron,” Eris added, having noticed her change in demeanour, and Lucien was grateful as she straightened her shoulders back. She already looked more confident as Eris gave her a final piece of advice. “So keep at it.” 

Eris’s praise was enough for Elain to maintain an attitude that made her seem entirely at ease among the most important family in the Autumn Court. While the High Lord sat at the head of the rectangular table, no one else faced him from across the other side. 

Lucien’s mother was at his father’s left side, and Eris was on his right. Elain had quickly found her place sitting between Lucien and the Lady of Autumn, who she spoke with softly, answering all of his mother’s pleasantly worded questions while everyone else ate their perfectly cooked meal. 

Lucien was surprised with how well-behaved his brothers were, considering how he had witnessed more than enough brawls during their family dinners before he had been exiled. Beron watched with observant eyes, paying attention to the conversation between Elain and his wife. 

Eris had said very little, just like Lucien remembered, choosing to eat slowly and avoid meaningless small talk. Callum was expectedly next to their eldest brother, looking at the very least like he was carefully listening to Elain as she spoke. Ronan had drunk so much wine Lucien was wondering if he would be able to walk out of the dining room on his own, which seemed a bit unusual. Felix had his elbows on the table, head resting on his fist, decidedly choosing to be disrespectful. Lucien was surprised that their father had yet to say anything, knowing how much the High Lord valued appearances. 

“I was thinking of sending invitations out in the next couple of days,” Lucien heard his mother say, a repressed excitement in her voice. She placed her napkin next to her full plate. “Of course, Night will be receiving theirs first.” 

“Thank you,” Elain added, “We’d been planning a smaller affair, very few knew about it outside our little circle of friends.” She glanced to Lucien shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear endearingly before turning her attention back to the Lady of Autumn. 

“We could send Spring an invitation,” Beron added, voice quiet but authoritative. He looked at Lucien with a raised brow, “We wouldn't want to offend Tamlin.” 

“How considerate,” Lucien said, feeling his teeth grit in annoyance. 

“And we must invite the human queen and her general,” his father continued.

“I don’t expect them to travel into our court.” Lucien responded, wanting his friends to stay far away from the Forest House. 

“Why not?” Felix asked. “We have such a lovely court,” he flashed Lucien a grin daring him to argue. 

Lucien set his cutlery down with a loud sound as it hit against the side of his plate. 

“I don’t care much for Queen Vassa,” Elain interrupted before Lucien could say anything. There was honesty in her words, he could tell, perhaps even a hint of jealousy, but he knew she was only saying it for his benefit, 

Elain had come to his defence in the hopes that Beron would leave his friends alone, and the respect he had for his mate only soared at the thought.

Ronan chuckled, raising his glass in a salute towards Elain, which she returned elegantly despite her clear discomfort at being addressed directly. “I like your mate’s honesty, little brother,” he confessed before drinking deeply.

Beron hummed in response, placing his hand, palm up, onto the table. Lucien watched as his mother laced their fingers together, the gesture coming to them naturally. His much larger hand engulfed her smaller one, and Lucien had to fight the urge to wince.   

Everyone went back to eating in silence, and Lucien recalled the countless family dinners he had silently sat through. With Beron present, his brothers were achingly careful with their words and their actions, not wanting to upset him. It was like trying to walk in the woods without snapping a branch, nearly impossible without practice, but each of them had learned to read their father’s moods. 

As though Elain could sense the troublesome direction of Lucien’s thoughts, she placed a comforting hand on his knee. Covered by the table, no one else noticed the startlingly soft gesture. 

Lucien realised quickly that Elain’s action had not been for show, that it had not been a part of their roles, it was simply a moment shared between the two of them.

[aphroditelovesu]

❝𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙇𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙄𝙄 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏❞

Historical Characters

💕 Yan!Alexander the Great w/His Twins!Children (Platonic)

💕 Yan!Alexander the Great, Yan!Julius Caesar, Yan!Napoleon Bonaparte and Yan!Henry VII w/Cheating!Wife (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Napoleon Bonaparte and Yandere Marquis de Lafayette w/Wife!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Alexander the Great and Yandere Mehmed the Conqueror (Romantic)

💕 Reader Love Letter for Julius Caesar (Romantic)

💕 Yan!Julius Caesar to Yan!Cleopatra

💕 Yandere Mehmed the Conqueror (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Pompey the Great (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Catherine of Aragon (Platonic)

💕 Yandere Catherine of Aragon w/Brother!Reader (Platonic)

💕 Yandere Baldwin IV (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Elizabeth I w/Lover Male!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Edward Seymour w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Caesar Augustus (Romantic)

A Court of Thorns and Roses

💕 Yandere Helion (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Bat Boys w/Cheating!Mate

💕 Yandere Nesta Archeron, Yandere Amarantha and Yandere Lucien Vanserra (Romantic)

Greek Mythology

💕 Yan!Apollo w/Cheating!Wife (Romantic)

💕 Yandere!Cheating Hermes

💕 Yandere Hephaestus w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Achilles (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Eros w/Soulmate!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Dionysus (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Persephone (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Athena

Bridgerton

💕 Yandere King George III w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Anthony Bridgerton w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Simon Basset (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Edmund Bridgerton w/Mistress!Reader (Romantic)

Percy Jackson

💕 Yandere Percy Jackson | Prompts 3, 4, 12, 26

💕 Yandere Annabeth Chase (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Percy Jackson w/Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Jason Grace w/Nymph!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Will Solace (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Piper McLean (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Nico di Angelo (Platonic)

💕 Yandere Nico di Angelo (Romantic)

Marvel

💕 Yandere Gamora (Romantic)

The Originals/The Vampire Diaries

💕 Yandere Elijah Mikaelson (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Elijah Mikaelson (Angst)

💕 Yandere Damon Salvatore (Romantic)

Wednesday

💕 Yandere Wednesday Addams (Romantic)

Miraculous Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

💕 Yandere Cat Blanc (Romantic)

Heartstopper

💕 Yandere Nick Nelson (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Charlie Spring and Nick Nelson (Romantic)

A Song of Ice and Fire

💕 Yandere Cersei Lannister w/Male!Reader Lannister

💕 Yandere Laenor Velaryon (Platonic)

💕 Yandere Maegor the Cruel (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Jaehaerys I Targaryen (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Rhaena Targaryen/Black Bride (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Maegor the Cruel w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Alicent Hightower to bby!Reader

Harry Potter

💕 Yandere Tom Riddle (Romantic)

BTS

💕 Yandere Jimin (Romantic)

Egyptian Mythology

💕 Yandere Seth and Yandere Horus (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Horus w/Princess of Egypt!Reader (Romantic)

The Hunger Games

💕 Yandere Peeta Mellark (Romantic)

K-Dramas

💕 Yandere Jeong Gu-Won (Romantic) || My Demon

Castlevania

💕 Yandere Vlad Dracula Tepes, Yandere Trevor Belmont and Yandere Alucard (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Vlad Dracula Tepes (Romantic)

Disney

💕 Yandere Prince Charming/Kit (Romantic)

💕 Yandere Prince Charming/Kit after Midnight (Romantic)

One Piece

💕 Vinsmoke Sanji (Romantic)

Attack on Titan

💕 Yandere Levi Ackerman (Romantic)

Hannibal

💕 Yandere Hannibal Lecter w/Wife!Reader (Romantic)

Maze Runner

💕 Yandere Thomas (Romantic)

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Secrets with the Shadowsinger

Summary:

Y/N, a representative from the Spring Court, and Azriel, the Night Court's spymaster, have been hiding their love due to the dangerous political climate and Tamlin's hatred for the Night Court. When their secret is discovered, Tamlin forbids Y/N from leaving the Spring Court. Azriel must risk everything to rescue her, leading to a dramatic confrontation and a daring escape. Their love, though hidden in the shadows, proves to be a powerful force as they navigate the perilous challenges that lie ahead.

Word Count: 1531

Warnings: None

The tension in the grand hall of the House of Wind was palpable. Representatives from the various courts gathered to discuss the increasing threats from Hybern. Y/N, the emissary from the Spring Court, stood tall and composed, her eyes scanning the room. She was known for her sharp mind and even sharper tongue, particularly when it came to dealing with the Night Court's spymaster, Azriel.

Azriel stood across the room, his shadows curling around him like a protective shroud. He was watching Y/N with an unreadable expression, their last argument still fresh in his mind. The animosity between them was well-known, their bickering a source of amusement and frustration for those around them.

"Y/N, perhaps you can enlighten us with the Spring Court's perspective on this matter," Rhysand said, his tone diplomatic.

Y/N stepped forward, her gaze flicking briefly to Azriel before she spoke. "The Spring Court believes that we must take a more aggressive stance against Hybern. Waiting for them to strike first will only lead to more devastation."

Azriel couldn't help but interject. "And rushing into a conflict without proper intelligence will lead to unnecessary casualties."

Y/N shot him a glare. "We need to be proactive, not reactive, Azriel. Your cautious approach will cost us valuable time."

Azriel's eyes narrowed. "And your reckless approach will cost us lives."

The room fell silent, the tension between them crackling like electricity. Rhysand stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "We need to find a balance between caution and action. Let's continue this discussion without the personal attacks."

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Fine. Let's focus on finding a solution."

As the meeting continued, Y/N and Azriel exchanged sharp looks and cutting remarks, their apparent dislike for each other on full display. But beneath the surface, a different story was unfolding.

Later that evening, Y/N slipped away from the House of Wind, making her way to a secluded spot by the Sidra River. She glanced around to ensure no one had followed her, then leaned against a tree, waiting.

A few moments later, Azriel appeared, his shadows swirling around him. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone he had used earlier.

She looked up, her expression softening. "Azriel."

He moved closer, pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I hate fighting with you."

Y/N sighed, resting her head against his chest. "I know. It's necessary, though. We can't let them suspect anything."

Azriel's grip tightened around her. "I wish we didn't have to hide. I hate pretending to dislike you."

She smiled sadly. "It's the only way to keep us both safe. If anyone found out..."

He nodded, understanding the unspoken danger. "I know. But it doesn't make it any easier."

They stood there in silence for a while, the sound of the river flowing peacefully beside them. Azriel's shadows enveloped them, creating a cocoon of privacy in which they could share these stolen moments.

"Sometimes I wonder if this is worth it," Y/N whispered. "All the secrecy and the danger."

Azriel cupped her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. "You are worth it, Y/N. Every moment we have together is worth the risk."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she leaned into his touch. "I love you, Azriel."

He kissed her gently, pouring all his love and longing into that one kiss. "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything."

As the night grew darker, they reluctantly pulled away from each other, knowing they had to return to their respective roles. Azriel took a step back, his expression torn. "Stay safe, Y/N. We'll find a way to be together openly someday."

She nodded, wiping away her tears. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," he said, his voice filled with determination.

With one last lingering look, Y/N turned and made her way back to the House of Wind, her heart heavy but filled with hope. Azriel watched her go, his shadows whispering words of comfort and resolve.

The next day, the tension in the grand hall was palpable once again. Y/N and Azriel resumed their roles, bickering and arguing as usual. But now, each cutting remark and heated exchange was laced with a secret understanding, a hidden love that only they knew.

As the discussions continued, Rhysand observed the two with a keen eye. He had long suspected there was more to their interactions than met the eye, but he respected their privacy and the roles they played.

The meeting ended with a tentative plan of action, a compromise that balanced caution and aggression. As the representatives began to leave, Y/N and Azriel shared a brief, knowing glance, a silent promise of love and support.

That night, as Y/N lay in her room, she clung to the hope that one day they could be together without hiding. Until then, they would continue to fight for peace and for each other, their love burning brightly in the shadows.

And as Azriel watched over Velaris from his perch on the roof, his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. No matter the challenges they faced, he knew they would find a way to be together. Their love was a force stronger than any enemy, and it would guide them through the darkest of times.

Weeks passed, and their secret meetings continued. But one fateful day, everything changed. Y/N returned to the Spring Court to report back to Tamlin, unaware that her secret had been discovered.

She was in her chambers when Tamlin stormed in, fury etched across his face. "Y/N, what have you done?"

She looked up, startled. "Tamlin, what's wrong?"

"Don't play dumb with me," he snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. "I've heard the rumors. You're involved with Azriel, the Night Court's spymaster."

Y/N's heart sank. "Tamlin, I can explain—"

"Explain?" he shouted. "You've betrayed us! Consorting with the enemy, my own sister!"

Tears filled her eyes. "I love him, Tamlin. You don't understand."

Tamlin's expression hardened. "I understand perfectly. You will not leave this court. You are forbidden from seeing him again."

Y/N's heart shattered. "You can't keep me here."

"Watch me," he said coldly. "Guards!"

As two guards stepped forward to escort her to a locked room, Y/N felt a surge of desperation. She had to get word to Azriel. She needed to find a way out.

Back in Velaris, Azriel was pacing in Rhysand's office when one of his shadows brought him the news. He felt a cold dread settle over him. "Tamlin knows," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "Y/N is in danger."

Rhysand's eyes narrowed. "We need to get her out of there."

Without wasting another moment, Azriel spread his wings and took to the skies, his shadows guiding him to the Spring Court. He moved swiftly and silently, his heart pounding with fear for Y/N's safety.

When he arrived, he slipped past the guards with ease, his shadows cloaking him in darkness. He found Y/N in a locked room, her eyes filled with fear and relief when she saw him.

"Azriel," she whispered, running to him.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I'm here. I'm getting you out of here."

They moved quickly, Azriel using his shadows to cloak them both as they navigated the halls. But as they reached the courtyard, Tamlin and his guards appeared, blocking their path.

"You won't take her," Tamlin growled, his voice filled with rage.

Azriel's eyes blazed with determination. "I won't let you keep her prisoner."

Y/N clung to Azriel, her heart pounding. "Please, Tamlin. Let me go."

Tamlin's expression twisted with anger and pain. "You chose him over your own family. You betrayed us."

"I love him," Y/N said, her voice breaking. "And I can't stay here. Not like this."

Tamlin hesitated, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. But Azriel didn't wait. He spread his wings, his shadows enveloping them both, and with a powerful leap, they soared into the sky, leaving the Spring Court behind.

When they landed back in Velaris, Y/N was trembling with relief and fear. Azriel held her close, his shadows wrapping around them protectively.

"You're safe now," he whispered, his voice filled with love and determination.

Y/N looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I couldn't stay there, Azriel. Not without you."

He kissed her gently, his heart swelling with love and pride. "We'll find a way to be together. No matter what."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that the road ahead would be difficult. But their love was a force stronger than any obstacle, and together, they would face whatever came their way.

In the safety of the Night Court, surrounded by allies and friends, they knew that their love would guide them through the darkest of times. And as the stars sparkled above Velaris, they made a silent vow to protect each other and their love, no matter the cost.

[sad-scarred-sassy]

I’m writing my first ever Elucien fic! I just got so inspired by all the great works I have read over the last months and I wanted to add my little crumb. So if you’re like me and you love the reluctant mates angst, ballroom drama, stolen glances, court romance with spice, promiscuous fae holidays, petty Elain and pain in the ass Lucien being idiots in love, then you may like this!

Here’s a snippet:

Elain had never thought this would be her fate. Ever since she was a little girl she had been told that she would one day be married for beauty and love, and that her future accomplishments would probably not add up to much more than that. She would have liked to say she had been repulsed by this idea, offended even, but she had never really questioned it.

It had never even bothered her, thinking there would be love in her future, in fact believing it to be true had always soothed her heart. Even in the lowest moments of her life, when the cold winter would make her bones chill and her stomach ache in its emptiness, when even her little sister’s efforts would not provide any sustenance and her father would simply stare into the fire in the small crumpled living room of their cottage, it was the only thing that kept her going.

And it had served her right, for a small time she truly thought her moment of sun had come to stay. She had found her place in society, had formed friends, and a handsome Graysen Nolan had fallen in love with her and Elain with him. He had looked beyond her miserable past and had seen her, courted her, romanced her and introduced her to the wonders of all she had been promised as a little girl–love and beauty.

He loved her unconditionally… until he didn’t. Until one fateful night her whole world had come to an end. Until her body had been replaced with another’s, until her senses became foreign to her, until he appeared.

Read in ao3