#acotar memory loss

[illyrian-dreamer]

Overwritten – Part 10

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Words: 1,889

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Part 10 ∇

You waded through the depths of the woods, the crisp air consuming you.

The ground was damp, the tree’s mossy and the cold bit through your clothes. But at least you felt something, allowing the sensation to blanket what writhed within.

Silent tears streamed down your face as you made you way further into the woods. Hybern had won, he had turned you to a weapon born in a cell, insidious enough to even hurt children. Months of treatment and the strides of progress were revealed now for a certain truth – it was not enough. You weren't enough. Not strong enough, no loving, or caring, or kind enough to overcome what he had made you. Not good enough for your family. And certainly not good enough for Azriel.

So you walked and walked, cyclical thoughts swirling in your head as you stumbled through the thicket, leaving the faint sound of the city behind, uncaring that you were lost.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the faint glow of dawn peeked through the branches, that you realised exhaustion was quick on your tail. Stopping at a clearing, you slid your back against a mossy ash tree, blinking through crusted tears and heavy lids that begged for sleep. Your vision reeled, the ground now uncertain and you wondered when the last time you had a drink of water was. Blinking faster now, you tried to steady your vision on the open grass in front of you.

And Hybern, who stood at the centre of it.

You choked on your own breath, scrambling to your feet.

His wicked grin shone through the dim light of dawn, at contrast with the climbing dark trunks that surrounded the clearing. Strapped to his body was  a plethora of weapons, the silver of swords and knives almost as bright as his smile.

“Impossible,” you gasped, your hands clenching to fists as you began to shake.

“Possible,” he responded, his eyebrows raising as he fingered the handle of his sword, the large weaponed sheathed at his waist.

You were quick to think to grab a rock from the ground, throwing at directly at his head. Hybern’s figure rippled like watery smoke as the rock shot straight through him.

“Liar,” you snarled, anger brewing in you. This was the first moment of peace you had found since you could remember – how dare he disturb it.

“I may be of your mind Y/N, but that does not mean my strikes will hurt any less.”

“Leave me alone,” you seethed, making to leave in the direction you had come.

“I will follow you,” he called, stopping you in your tracks. Turning, you found amusement written on his face. You wanted nothing more than to take his own sword and spear it straight between those smug eyes.

“Do it,” he provoked.

“What?”

“Kill me. See if you can.”

You shook your head. Perhaps if you shook hard enough, he would disappear.

“I’m surprised you’re yet to try,” he drawled, slowly pacing towards you. You watched silently, fuming, readying for when he might attack.

“Or perhaps it’s because you know you’ll fail.” His taunt earned a snarl from you.

“Why not try, dear Y/N? You’ve already lost everything important to you, what else could there possibly be?”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

“Ah, there it is,” he smiled, his eyes narrowing and focusing on you. “Fight.”

“No.”

“No? I suppose I forgot how wonderfully stubborn you are. After all, you were near impossible to break in my dungeon. Have I truly changed you that much?”

You glared at him, and he watched you back. “Pitiful,” he spat, turning in his tracks to leave you to brew in your own insanity.

With a deep breath, you tried to control the shake in your voice. “I’ll kill you when you’re brave enough to appear in the flesh.” Hybern stopped then, turning back to face you with a quirked brow. “Mark my words, you pathetic excuse of a male. I will kill you – the real you.”

Hybern tipped his head back a laughed. “Oh Y/N. You truly are as broken as you look.”

Red flashed before your eyes, your anger bubbling to the surface.

“You won't last to ever find the real me.”

You frowned, dissecting his works. This version of Hybern, a figment of your mind, was hinting to you, warning you. It was clear then – you needed to fight him, beat him, kill the plague he planted in your mind if you were to ever truly recover.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Launching into a sprint, you speared for the King, a cry ripping from your throat. He merely grinned, unsheathing his sword, swinging directly where you dove. You slid to your knees, narrowly missing the strike, the silver of his weapon glinting before your eyes, impossibly real.

With a grunt you rolled to your side, dodging again and Hybern stuck his sword in the ground, intending to have speared you. You glared back, the sheer audacity of a grouse death making you see red. This was not a fair fight, or at least not yet.

Darting behind him, you swung a low kick to his back, sending him off balance with an opportunity to swipe a weapon. You secured a hand knife, the closest item in your reach. Shrugging, you raised cold eyes to Hybern who had now steadied himself. This would have to do.

“Thief,” he spat.

“Cunt,” you replied.

Hybern growled, raising his sword high before launching for you, the loud swoosh of his weapon sounding above his yell.

And so began the dance between you two. You were light on your feet to avoid his strikes, circling and calculating for your own opportunity to attack. Your innate skill and tactics surprised you, and you realised there were years of training that innately prepared you now. You would have to thank your family for that if you made it.

“Don’t be a coward, Y/N. Remember, I don't exist, I’ll never grow tired.”

You gritted your teeth – Hybern was right, you were only exhausting yourself. Trembling with adrenaline, you kept your distance, your heart pounding in your ears as you tried to decide what to do.

“Pitiful, the lot of you,” he spat again. “Your court is weak, your family too. And your mate, willing to die for his true love? How utterly pathetic.”

Primal anger flushed within you, boiling your blood and you tossed the knife to your dominant hand, gripping it’s handle. “Don’t you dare speak of him like that.”

“I enjoy watching him come undone because of you, Y/N. I knew all along the Spymaster was the weakest link of the Night Court. Always putting others first, always suppressing his own needs and desires. All I had to do was push him right to the edge.”

A different kind of strength found you then, like a lone prized trophy in a barren cavern. You may not be worthy of love, but Azriel was the most deserving of all. You would die to defend that.

And so you launched for the evil King, arm raised with the blade pointed straight for his heart. Airborne, you careened towards him, you vision narrowed as the pathway to freedom honed in your vision. He wasn’t real, this wasn't real. You would overcome him for the sake of your mate, love and determination fuelling you as you launched to kill the King of Hybern.

It was a reeling shock to feel the King’s sword pierce clean through your middle. Your eyes widened with shock as you looked down, the handle resting at your stomach, Hybern’s hand already soaked with the red of your blood.

He grinned famously, your widened eyes finding his as your head swirled and you let out a strangled sound. There was no pain to be felt, yet your blood poured, warming you as your breath stuck in your throat.

“It’s as I said,” he smirked, lifeless eyes holding yours. “Pathetic.”

And perhaps because he was talking, or perhaps because he underestimated you, but he was unprepared for the short knife that quickly stuck in the side of his neck.

You delighted in watching Hybern’s artery generously bleed as much as your stomach did. And there was an odd moment where you clung to each other, neither of you willing to be the first to fall, both of you nearing closer and closer to death.

“Y-you b-bitch,” he stuttered with fury, gasping for the air that never reached his lungs.

You could feel him slipping from your mind – the roots that infected even the deepest corners beginning to wither and rot. He was dying, leaving your reality, flushing from your system after the months of poison and torture that had fixed him there. A sickness that finally had a cure.

You laughed, cackling as you watched those hideous eyes glow red for a final time before a white casting fogged them over. He let you go then, crumpling to the floor, his body withering before your eyes. A gust of wind blew over, sweeping his figure to ash and taking the remaining of his body with it, leaving you alone in the clearing.

Falling to your knees, you clutched at your own stomach, Hybern’s sword no longer lay within, the remnants of the weapon turned to dust along with the King. But your blood covered your hands, it’s warmth pooling around you, gushing at an alarming rate.

“Stop. Stop!” you begged to no-one, pressing on your own wound. You would surely die any moment now. 

So you cried – cried for the loss of your love, cried that you never had the chance to remember the life you had, or to ever recreate the joy and love you knew surrounded you. There was so much that could have been, and grief would be that last thing you ever felt in this world.

Through the blur of tears and the closeness of death that begged your eyes to close, it was Azriel’s scent mixed with that of your blood that told you he was near. In fact, he was not alone. 

“Real or fake?” your voice quivered as you body began to give, falling slowly to the mossy ground. Azriel caught you, pulling you to his lap quickly as he scanned over you.

“Real, my love. As real as can be. Where does it hurt?”

You frowned. “The blood–“

“What blood? I see none.”

You trembled in your mates arms as he cast an urgent look back to his family. Rhysand shook his head gently, tapping his temple to show Azriel your injury did not extend past your mind.

Azriel sighed in relief, stroking you hair as he held you close. “There is no blood my love, its not real.”

“My stomach! He– he–”

Azriel soothed you, rocking you closely. You were too delirious, too confused and exhausted to comprehend what was real or not.

“I killed him Az, for you,” you whimpered, your body convulsing with heaves of exhaustion. “We’re safe now.”

Azriel cradled your face, kissing your forehead before pulling you closely to him again. “Rest now, my love.” he soothed, and that was the last thing you heard before slipping into numbing darkness.

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Part 11>>>

AN: Thank you so so much for your patience with this chapter lovelies!! And of course for the ongoing support ❤️❤️ I sincerely hope you liked it!

I always love hearing what you think, so don’t be shy to drop a comment. And also if you’d like to join the tag list :) 

[theaterqueen1985]

Months ago on the Azris Discord server someone had mentioned the concept of Eris losing his memory as he aged due to the Beron's abuse from over the years, which led to this idea festering in my mind and for a while I'd thought about writing it into an actual fic, but I just don't have the time, but I still want to share the idea.

Eris dies at like 1867. He lived long enough to see his children grow up and fall in love. He got to meet his grandchildren. He’d stepped down from his High Lord mantle at around 1750 when his memory started to go. After everything that Beron had put him through eventually even his immortal body starts to give out. His mind was slipping for decades forgetting so many important things from his life. He’ll often talk about people who’ve already passed on (his Mother, Helion, Azriel’s Mother, sometimes even Beron) as if they’re still alive. He remembers Az and their children easily enough, but everything else is just a mess. All the nieces and nephews are a hot mess of names, he mixes up his brothers and who they’re all married to and whose kids belong to whom. He doesn’t remember people’s ages anymore and constantly thinks that old major events happened a lot sooner than they had been (i.e. Hybern war happened a few years ago). Lucien tried to help, searching for a spell to do something helpful, but it was pretty much impossible to find a cure as this was hardly ever seen in Fae. He eventually passes away in his sleep. Az finds out only moments after when the mating bond is cracking and eventually fades out. The funeral is at the end of the week for the beloved High Lord who’d managed to save Autumn from the hateful path that it had been led down. Eris’ body was burned and his ashes released in the wind. A gravestone was placed beneath the tree where Eris had spent so much time with Az and their children.

Az tried to stay strong for his children who’d lost their dad sooner than anyone had expected. Their daughter threw herself into her High Lady work (though with the world at peace, there wasn’t too much heavy work she constantly needed to do). She and her husband (Thesan’s eldest son) and their own children do what they can to find peace and move on in light of her dad’s death. Their son stayed in the Autumn Court as well, but Az had to leave. Everywhere he looked reminded him of his lost mate. Eris was Autumn personified so of course the Court would remind him of Eris. He traveled for a while, visited his friends and family, but seeing them all so in love and them constantly asking if he’s okay. He returns home to Autumn and is greeted by both his kids excitedly hugging him. It’d been about a year since he’d been there so after spending some time with them both he goes to visit Eris’ gravestone. He spends hours talking to him. Az admits that when he’d heard the stories of those ancient Fae who could die of a broken heart he’d thought they were absolute nonsense, but now having lost Eris, it hurts so much more that he actually understands those stories' pain. As Az sits by that tree for hours and as the sun’s setting he sees Eris standing there smiling at him, the gray gone from his hair, looking just as he had the day they’d mated. “It’s my time isn’t it?” “Only if you wish it to be.” Azriel knows the children will grieve. He knows his friends and family will be heartbroken, but he can finally see his mate again. The male he loves so much that it’s hurt to be away from for such a long time. So when Eris reached out to him he took his hand and stepped through to the otherside. 

Rhys and Cassian notice something’s wrong immediately. Their bargain tattoos begin burning. Rhys was with Nyx and Feyre at a meeting with Lucien and Elain and their children in the Day Court when his tattoo started burning. Cassian was with Nesta on a date at their favorite cafe in Velaris when his are burning. Nesta winnows him to Autumn where Rhys already is cradling Az’s head in his lap. Cassian dropped to his side both the batboys trying so hard to wake Az. Rhys is in his mind and sees those final moments but still attempts to bring him back. Nesta, still practically the goddess of death, knows there’s no bringing him back. His spirit is already so far on the other side. Silently she utters the prayer she’s heard enough to make sure that he passes safely. Nesta goes to find her niece and nephew. It’s important that they know what happened. Az’s daughter was with her youngest reading a book and his son was up on a ladder pulling down a book to read. Both are surprised to see Nesta there. She pulls them both into the hall and has to tell them the news. They rush out to where Az, Cass, and Rhys are. Az’s body was cradled between his brothers, both with tears down their cheeks. Az’s kids joined them. 

Azriel’s funeral was similar to Eris’. He too was burned and his ashes scattered. His name was placed next to Eris’ so that their memories would continue to live on together even though they’d both passed on. Both kids grieved again, but they also knew it was for the best. Their Baba had been miserable since their Dad’s passing (and they’d told that to their family in the other courts). He’d tried so hard to act as if he’d been able to peacefully move on as if he hadn’t lost half of his heart when their Dad had died. They’d honestly both been surprised that he’d lasted a year even. Both children made sure to make it a priority that they visit that gravestone often because without their parents, so many other’s lives would be so much worse off than if Autumn had just been left to rot and fester. Instead they’d both poured their hearts and souls into raising Autumn from the ashes so the future generations might be able to live peacefully and safely in the court that had known pain and suffering for so long.

[acourtofladydeath]

@theatrequeen created this tumblr post:

After it shattered my heart completely, I decided to ask permission to craft it into a full length fic. They graciously allowed me to run with this idea, and I outlined all four chapters and wrote the chapter 1 draft within 24 hours. These boys have my whole heart, and I hope you enjoy this full length interpretation of the original tumblr post.

I truly hope I did your idea justice, and thank you again!

In "All Things End" Eris struggles with losing his memory due to complications from traumatic brain injuries caused by Beron's abuse. He forgets parts of his life and steps down from the mantle of High Lord. Azriel and their children take care of him the best they can, until he eventually passes away. After losing his mate, Azriel tries to move forward, but eventually dies from a broken heart.

Chapter 1, "Inside Fading Out", focuses on the discovery of the injury and Eris's decline into memory loss.

[kataraavatara]

you assume that an adaptation would actually treat it with the weight is deserves and not just try to rip off the lotus casino scene from the percy jackson movie

related, i truly believe that any stan gunning for an adaptation don’t realize acotar’s success is dependent on the fact that it’s textual and not visual. like with text, interpretation shapes understanding but with video you can’t really look at feyre getting drugged and being forced to dance over and over again and say “oh yeah this is helping her” like acotar will not survive contact with the general public

[myladysapphire]

A doe, A deer - A female deer

being the youngest archeron sister often meant that you were the forgotten one, no one ever saw you, until he did.

Azriel x Archeron!OC

CW: mdi 18+, selective mutism, ableims?, depecitons of illness and hearing loss, depictions of violence (animal hunting), depictions of poverty, canon character deaths, vomiting, panic attacks. not beta read!

word count: 4,259

authors note: so i have severe writers block when it comes to the whole ASOIAF universe but i reread acotar recently and suddenly got motivation to write

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

Daphne Archeron had never known the luxury of money, like her sisters had. And though Feyre would say that her experience was brief, she still spent the majority of her childhood in riches, where daphne had spent it in rags.

Though the age gap was small between as four sisters, no more than three years between them each, it seemed the three years between her birth and Feyre changed a lot for the Archeron family. And by the time Daphne was five, the constantly dwindling funds had finally run out. The home she had always known to be empty, with less and less furniture as the days went by became repossessed a small hovel became there home.

A home which quickly became filled with illness and daphne and her mother caught typhus.

And illness which killed her mother and changed Daphne’s life.

It was odd how she could scarcely remember a time before her illness, and yet she fondly looked back on the few memories she had.

She knew her siblings had a difficult relationship with their mother, and yet her mother seemed to care deeply for her youngest child.

Peprahs it was because she was the spiting image of her mother, according to Nesta at least. Or that she was the calmest child, she never cried or threw tantrums. Or perhaps it was that she was content following her mother around and doing as she said, something she seemed to do now to each of her sisters instead.

She remembered in blurry memories when her and her mother got sick. How in the small hovel, on there one bed, the mother and daughter suffered side by side, with no money for a healer and simply having to rely on the efforts of three children and a man who mourned his wife and daughter before they had even passed. \

She had been beside her self when her mother passed, and though she hadn’t died, she herself had never truly recovered.

Her hearing was damaged, and though she could hear, she had to focus and spent most of her time reading lips more than actually listening.

Her body was sickly, and quick to catch any illness going around the village.

And to her sisters, that meant forever treating her like a child.

Things only got worse for her after debt collectors came two years into there life of poverty.

She remembered how her sisters had stood there and watched as there fathers legs was shattered and he was beaten. And she a girl of eight was the one to spring into action, grabbing a knife and throwing into the head of the man beating her father.

She remembered the gasps, the shocked looks of her sisters, and the even more shocked look of the men as they took her in, there faces going from smirks as they took in a small child defending her father, to a look of horror as another knife sliced through the air.

The men had run out shortly after and Daphne was left to scream and cry in horror at what she had done, as she watch the mans body dropped to the floor and the others fled, fearing the small child, who had started to fear herself.

After that day, Daphne refused to speak. A stray word her or there, a perhaps a gasp or hum. But nothing more.  

As time passed Daphne began to see herself only has a burden, often being forgotten unless she was incredibly ill or her sisters needed her to end a dispute.

She knew her family struggled more so that they should, how Feyre had been forced to hunt to feed and provide for the family, with her kills and selling their fathers wood carvings. She saw as her sisters hounded Feyre for money over helping her out or getting jobs to provide for the family. All whilst Feyre was forced to spend any money on medicines for her.

She saw the pitying eyes her sisters sent her, pity struggling to hide the contempt they all felt.

And though she had tried to help, by hunting with Feyre, even though it was quickly forbidden after Nesta found out. She would get a job, but who would hire a sickly, mute girl with no education or skills?

She was frustrated, unable to help and yet the biggest burden. Ruled by her sisters and treated like a child.

She had never been rebellious, never had the want to be and yet today, she found her self in the forest, with the will to make up for being the burden that she was, hoping to do so by finding dinner for her family.

And though she had only been a handful of time with Feyre before Nesta forbade her from taking you, and had little skill with an bow and arrow, her only skill was that of the throwing single dagger and several kitchen knives her family possessed.

She found herself sat in a tree, a dagger in hand as well and the kitchen knives strapped to a tunic she had stolen from Feyre.

She had looked and searched for close to an hour before she saw a deer, and found herself sat in a tree, as she watched the deer slowly approach with unsure movements. It reminded her of herself almost. With its doe eyes and reddish fur. It was young, clearly lost as it looked around for something or someone.

Her dagger trembled in her hand.

She willed it to move but to no avail.

The more she looked at the doe the more she saw herself.

With there shared amber eyes and brown hair, the does faced seemed to merge into her own. A face she shared with her mother. A face that haunted her every time she fell asleep in the very bed her mother died in whilst holding her.

But the doe was like any other doe she supposed. Yet it seemed like a complete mirror of herself.

Her hand shook as she tried to force herself to throw the dagger.

The deer looked up, eyeing her curiously. No fear in its eyes, as it eyed her and her hand lowered.

And a sigh of defeat left her mouth.

Perhaps a rabbit would be easier or at least be less likely to look like her.

The deer lowered its head, all sense of curiosity lost on it as it began to sniff for food in a bush.

She watched the deer, taking some comfort in how calm it seemed to be, though that calm lasted only moments as a wolf, a wolf far too large, and eyes to human pounced upon the deer tearing at its neck out.

The dagger in her hand suddenly spring from her hand landing clear in the wolf’s neck.

Blood trickling down its neck, the wolf made no effort to move or continue its feats on the deer.

It simply looked at her, and she could have sworn a look of relief flooded its features.

She jumped down from the tree, her ankle rolling as she did so.

But her mind was to occupied in reaching for one of her knifes and landed a killing blow directly into the wolf’s heart, and then another into the deer’s.

Tears feel from her eyes as she looked over the deer and wolf, realisation at what she ha done, and how it felt far to easy despite her earlier trepidation.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch she knew belonged to Feyre.

“Daphne” she mumbled, “are you okay?”

She simply nodded, as she always did, and reached to pull the daggers from the animals’ chests.

“did you do this?” Feyre asked, taking in the giant wolf.

Daphne nodded before pointing to the tree and twisting the dagger in her hand, answering the unsaid question of how.  

Concern flooded Feyre’s features as she assessed the state of her youngest sister, and the tears that filled her eyes, despite the clear effort the rest of her face was making to remain calm.

“Why were you out here?” Feyre continued to question; despite knowing she wouldn’t get a response.

Daphne looked down shame flooding her. Thoughts of not being good enough, of always being in the wrong even when she was trying to help. For somehow messing up what would be an otherwise successful hunt.

Tears dropped from her eyes once more. She hadn’t moved since Feyre approached her. Still sat in the same position as before as Feyre continued to ask questions.

She watched as Feyre bound the doe’s legs and skinned the wolf.

She watched as Feyre handed her the fur and threw the doe over her own shoulders. And watched as Feyre sent her a glance with every cough falling from Daphne’s mouth, seeing her concerned glances and small shakes of her head.

Her breaths were heavy, the cold air affecting her already weak lungs, and her steps were slow as they finally approached there home.

Their small little hovel with two rooms for the five of them, was always crowded and despite the two singular windows the entire house had there was always a chilled draft.

The chill of the outside was not much colder than that of inside the hovel.

A lack of fire beings it’s cause, and single log left inside the fire place despite freye asking nesta too cut more wood.

She was greeted quickly by Elain wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

Elaine and her were the closest of the sisters, with the same interests and similar personalities the two rarely argued. Though for daphne, arguments usual consisted of her being lectured and daphne storming out in response.

The sisters argued as they lectured feyre on the wolf and Daphne’s involvement in the hunt.

Elain sat rubbing Daphne’s shoulders gently to warm her up, and handing her a hot mug of tea to soothe her throat.

The sisters always seemed to argue, whether it be about money or food or any little thing. But what they argued most was daphne.

Shocking seeing as both Nesta and Feyre seemed to only tolerate her and ignored her unless she was extremely sick.

Elain too, despite being the closest of the sisters, found herself ignoring daphne more so than late, and spent more and more time with Nesta.

It was a funny thing really, seeing as they always fretted over her, treating her little more than a child.

But everything she did caused an argument. Such as going hunting with Feyre, getting more sick form hunting with feyre, from Elain allowing her to help her garden, or Nesta asking her to sew her some new clothes form the scraps of the old worn-out ones.

Everything one of them did for her, caused an argument with another.

Daphne was their sickly younger sister. That’s all she was and even when she tried to help it caused an argument.

Words were always said in front of her and rarely to her. 

She couldn’t help but think that if she could talk, something she begged daily to be able to, that they wouldn’t ignore her so much.

But they seemed to treat her mutism as self imposed, as if it didn’t pain daphne that she physically couldn’t. that the idea of speaking scared her and the few words she could ralrey speak pained her so and caused her to to be physically sick.

She hated not being able to communicate but her sisters seemed to think it was entirely her fault that she didn’t.

Elain at least put up with it, finding her a good ear for listening to her endless rants. Or a helpful hand when cooking and gardening.

But they still didn’t ask her questions unless it was in the form of an interrogation. Such as Feyre in the woods.

She had given up years ago when she realised no matter how hard her eyes portrayed her feelings, her sisters where happy to talk and laugh and argue without so much as sparing her a glance.

They hadn’t even bothered to teach her to read. They knew she couldn’t. she hadn’t even started her schooling when they lost their fortune, and yet it never occurred to them that teaching her to read could solve the communication issue.

She had thought that perhaps if she proved herself, her potential that they would bother. Though deep down she knew it wouldn’t change a thing.

But known the less she went into the woods, to prove herself, to show she wasn’t just sick, that she had willpower, ability. But not only to prove herself but to also thank them. she felt bad for all the money spent on you, all the times she had been bed bound, unable to help at all and leaving them to sleep on the floor as moving her was to risky.

But it all failed.

All it caused was arguing and Feyre sending you a worrying glance as she looked over the wolf. And the fear of it being fae and what they might mean for there family.

Days passed, and daphne grew sick again. With her lungs constricted, her head feverish and limb aching. She had been in and out of consciousness for days now. The days passed in a blur, the only moments she truly came to were when medicine was forced down her throat or a new towel was pressed to her head.

She was sure she would have stayed in the bed for weeks had the front door not been slammed open and a roar sounded through the hovel.

Weakly she walked out of the shared bedroom and came face to face with some sort of fae beast growling words at her sisters, her sisters spoke to quietly for her to hear but before she knew it feyre was leaving with the beast and her screams for her to stay refusing to leave her mouth. She was powerless to stop it, to weak to even move from the door frame let alone stop her sister form being kidnapped by the fae beast. And even if she could it seemed that as the door closed a haze a magic was sent out and the sudden scene of a so-called aunt Ripley sending for Feyre to help her in her sickness appeared in her brain. Had she not fainted after it happened, she was sure she would have believed it, but dreams of a growling beats taking Feyre away haunted her dreams.

As the months passed , Elain and their father seemed content to believe the glamour the fae had cast and the seeming coincidence of regaining there fortune, neither Daphne or Nesta believed it.

She hated this new life, the life without Feyre. And the seemingly picture-perfect front her family created.

Her life became filled with tutors and healers and the balls filled with preening men all ever for a quite wife they never have to speak to.

Her life seemed duller than it did, and even more lonely.

Her sisters now ignored her completely, her father was no to busy for he. With Her sisters spending more time doing their own thing, with Nesta always alone and refusing to speak to anyone. Elain found herself engaged to a future lord, a man you had grown to hate despite only meeting him three times.

And daphne found herself quiet the scholar, egar to learn, and found herself drawn more and more to the history of Pythian, of the war and the fae courts.

A year passed since Feyre was taken and though she had returned for a week before swiftly leaving again, it felt like everything had changed since she left.

she felt as if she was on the side lines looking in on her family.

Even more so after their father had left to go to the continent.

Elain had grown distant, only wishing to spend time with her when it came to her garden.

And Nesta had secluded herself in her room, refusing company from all.

Daphne was forced to chaperone her sister and watch her life become what elain always wished.

Perhaps it was selfish to wish for attention, or at least the same level as she received in the past.

But now it seemed the better she got the less attention she received. She now got the level of freedom she had long desired and yet it seemed a waste without her sisters there to experience it with her.

But at least she now had the opportunity to have friends. Or at least friends in the form of Leon, one of the footmen in her family’s employ.

He had been kind since the moment she meet him, egar to spend time with her.  

And though at first it was simply kind smiles facial expressions to communicate, he slowly taught her sign language. Having grown up with a sister who was hearing impaired, it allowed him the chance to talk to her. And for the first time she felt heard.

He was a small comfort in her dull life.

Suddenly it was march, time passed in the blink of an eye.

Something had shifted in the last few months; the estate grew quieter, and the trees seemed to murmur.

The sky felt greyer and snow colder.

The wall felt thin, with more cracks than ever, fog creeped from it and a sense of danger, ‘more so than before was emoting from it.

She had started to take walks near the wall daily. A sense of need to be close to Feyre overcame her. She wasn’t sure why, she never saw anyone near the wall.

That was until she stumbled into him.

Possibly the most handsome person you had ever seen. His eyes caught yours and they seemed to enchant her, the striking hazel colour distracting you from the obvious giant bat like wings sprouting from his back. But she didn’t mind, his eyes were beautiful…he was beautiful perhaps the most beautiful creature ever.

And his hands were on her waist.

Holding her after she stumble into him.

her waist.

“Are you okay?” he spoke softly, his yes tracing over her. He seemed to look at her with a sense of family. Though she was sure she had never once seen him before.

she nodded her head, her eyes looking down to were he still held her waste.

“your Daphne right?” he asked carefully.

Daphne looked up startled, shocked that he knew her name, and started racking her mind for memories of his face.

“i-“ the words, sounding more like a gasp left her mouth, as she willed yourself to speak.

And she might of mustered up a few words had Feyre not suddenly appeared.

“Daphne?” she breathed. Looking her up and down, “what are you doing this close to the wall?”

The males hands left her waist as he moved aside and allowed Feyre to hug her.

she hugged her back, but her face was perplexed as she took her in. she was different.

She seemed to glow, and her skin was soft and clear. Far more so than ever before and her ears… they were pointed.

She was fae.

Confusion adorned her face and a worried smile filled hers.

“don’t be scared” she seemed to beg.

she shook your head, moving to hug her once more.

she tired to talk, to ask her if she was okay, to ask her what had happened but the her mouth filled with bile, and the words seemed to leave her mind the more she tried to speak.

She seemed relived at the hug, moving her hand to stroke her hair, “you look well.” She spoke, as she took in her rosy cheeks and more filled out figure.

Daphne nodded. Her attention still fully on Feyre and confusion in her eyes as she tried to figure out what happened to her.

“I know you must be confused, and ill explain once were at the estate but-“ she was cut of by the sudden appearance of two more fae males.

Both with the same wings as the male she had bumped into.

“Daphne… this is Cassian and Rhysand” she said pointing to the two males, before turning “and the male Daphne bumped into, that’s Azriel” she spoke looking at her carefully as the two males introduced themselves and shook her hand.

A small nervous smile toyed on Daphne’s mouth.

she looked to Azriel, taking him in and reaching her hand out to shake his, as the others had done to her.

He seemed shocked at the action, his hands moving slowly to take hers.

As if he was scared to touch her, scared that they would taint her somehow.

They were rough, more so than the others, and covered in scars.

But her eyes didn’t linger, nor did she flinch as she was sure he expected her too. Instead she shook it and smiled. Her cheeks filling with a light blush as he focused her attention on her.

She turned to face her sister, the blush still prominent on her face and her minding releasing at how handsome Azriel, well how all the males seemed but more so him.

And the male she knew as Rhysand seemed to smirk as he looked at her, as if he could read the very thoughts she was thinking in her head.

She hugged slightly at the smirk, a nervous feeling washing over her as she took in the three strangers and the sudden change to Feyres appearance.

She pointed towards the direction of the estate, focusing her gaze on feyre as she did so.

“Should we get going then?” Feyre questioned, seemingly to sense her sisters nerves.

The walk was slow, the faes content to walk at a leisurely pace, though daphne was sure it had something to do with her and the coughs her small body was emitting.

By the time they reached the estate, feyre seemed to have grown nervous, her hand gripping daphne’s and her palm growing sweaty.

Daphne rubbed her hand in comfort though it seemed to do little as Feyre pulled her back hastily the estate came into view.

“Can you clear out the staff?” she questioned “they can’t see us, it will cause to many issues”

She nodded, giving feyre a hug before she departed.

She was grateful Leon was working that day, he took her at her word when she signed his and the others need to leave.

The once lively state was now empty bar the four sisters and three fae males.

She received harsh glares from nesta at their unwelcome guest.

And as words were spoken, and feyre spoke of the need to use the house as a meeting point, the glares grew harsher. As if whatever impending conflict was Daphne’s fault.

Dinner was no better, harsh words and arguments between the sisters sounded. Even more so when Daphne had run to get stools for the two winged males.

She was silent, as always.

But somehow sitting next to Azriel filled her with confidence she hadn’t ever had.

“Can you really fly?” she whispered, her voice rough from years of not being used.

And though her sisters gasped and nesta sent her another glare. Azriel simply smiled and spoke “yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind”

Daphne smiled, her mouth speaking before she could even process that she had talked “that’s very beautiful” she said “ I have always wondered what it would be like to fly” she mused, “is it ever scary?” she spoke making eye contact with Feyre who gave her an encouraging smile, though her eyes were still shocked at your words.

It was probably the most words she had ever said, as even before she stopped talking, she was never a chatty child.  

“sometimes” Azriel said, with Cassian nodding in agreement, as Azriel continued “if you are caught in a storm, if the current drops. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before were out of swaddling”

Daphne nodded, her mouth filling with bile and a stuttered almost gasp left her mouth in the stead of words.

She swallowed roughly, her face flushing as she realised everyone’s attention was on her.

And then it struck her, she had spoken.

In the past it had never been more than one word, and it was always mumbled and nearly in audible, and often followed quickly with vomiting.

She willed herself to not vomit, but as Nesta went to say something, she was sure would be aimed at her sudden ability to speak.

She rose and ran to the bathroom and let it all out.

She cried and cried afterwards, in shock and shame.

It was how it always happened, the shame she felt afterwards, as if she wasn’t allowed to speak, as if speaking would cause something bad to happen. And it was a feeling that followed her for the remainder of her sister visit.

And even after they had all left it didn’t go away.

It seemed to haunt her, even more so after she got sick once more.

But this time it was different.

She had been bed bound for months on end.

Memories were all in a haze and she couldn’t tell night from day.

she hadn’t woken in days and yet the next time she woke, she was being tugged out of a cauldron full of freezing water.

To be added to taglist

taglist @fuckingsimp4azriel

[lees-chaotic-brain-reblogs]

Azriel Fic Recs

Note: I do sometimes link my reblogs bc there is literally nothing I hate more than clicking on a link only to arrive at the ghost blog page.

Blogs to just read through

@azsazz @azrielhours @daycourtofficial @assassinsblade @illyrian-dreamer

@utterlyazriel @imaginesmai @solbaby7 @fieldofdaisiies @writingcroissant

@pellucid-constellations @flickering-chandelier @shadowdaddies @solbaby7

@marvelsmylife

The Orange Peel Theory (fluff) Hug (fluff)

@bubbles-for-all-of-us

Buried Underneath (angst) Golden Hour (hurt/comfort, fluff)

@mrs-azriel

Unrequited (angst) A Pair of Spies (hurt/comfort)

@leoniestarlee

Illyrian Assassin (fluff, hurt/comfort) (series)

@florencemtrash

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) (series) In a Years Time (angst, fluff) The Artificer (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) (series)

@azrielsdove

Love and Loss (angst, hurt/comfort)

@readychilledwine

Haven (fluff) Losing Forever (angst, hurt/comfort) The Breakfast Club (fluff)

@serpentandlily

No Going Back (angst)

@violet-shadows

Low on Hope (hurt/comfort, angst) (series) Speaking of Forgiveness (angst, hurt/comfort) (series)

@writingsbychlo

When You Hold Me (fluff)

@lalacliffthorne

The Basic Rules of Friendship (fluff)

@bluetimeombre

And I Wouldn't Marry Me Either (angst)

@prythianpages

I've Been Waiting for You (fluff, hurt/comfort) Dandelions (fluff) (series) When I Kissed the Teacher (fluff)

@imaginesmai

The Orange Peel Theory (fluff)

@azrielbrainrot

I Laugh Like Me Again...She Laughs Like You (angst)

@itsjunear

Hidden Feelings (angst)

@stxrvel

The Cliff (angst) (series)

@stormhearty

Pushed to the Edge (angst, hurt/no comfort) (series)

@heartless-tate

Notice Me! (fluff)

@leafsandstarlight

Annual Visit (fluff) (series)

@shadowandlightt

Of Nightmares and Memories (series) (angst)

@azriels-shadowsinger

I Can't Sleep with You Still Mad at Me (hurt/comfort) Everything Reminds Me of You (angst, hurt/comfort) I Broke the Lock You Were Screaming (hurt/comfort)

@thisblogisaboutabook

Rainy Season (angst) Baby, Mine (angst/fluff)

@thehighladywrites

Banned From Intimacy (fluff, 18+)

@ervotica

My Hands are Searching (angst, hurt/comfort)

@grandlinedreams

Archeron Sister AU (angst, hurt/comfort) (series) Untitled (fluff)

@azrielwingspan

A 'Tea' Party (fluff)

@angelshadowsinger

Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You (angst)

@parkerslatte

Centuries Coming (angst, hurt/comfort)

@moonlightazriel

Worlds Apart (tog x acotar crossover, hurt/comfort) (series) Nap (fluff)

@motherabove

All the Time in the World (angst)

@surielstea

Bright Smiles (fluff)

@itsswritten

Finally (fluff, pregnancy)

@lady-of-tearshed

Clingy Bat (fluff)

@utterlyotterlyx

Another Love (angst, fluff)

@sillymercury

Emergency...(fluff)

@mxtantrights

Jealousy (fluff)

dividers by @cafekitsune

[sarawritestories]

Azriel X Fem Human Reader

Summary: Azriel finds your journal and reads your depictions of the life the two of you have spent so far...

Content Warning: Memory loss, Death of a character, grief, someone on their death bed. Mention of Poison

Word Count: 2.9K

Dedicated: to @daycourtofficial who broke my heart with her Az fic this week

Tags: @milswrites @berryzxx @lady-of-tearshed @simple-fan2 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @riddlesb1tch

ACOTAR Masterlist

There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.

After the war when borders had blurred, a young human woman traveled to Prythian the land of the fae. Not aware that some still held hatred in their heart for her kind. The woman cornered by fae males twice her size, looking at her as if she were their next meal. Slamming her eyes shut the woman began to tremble and wishing she would have stayed in her safe little hut.

Yet no one had laid a hand on her. Not a hair out of place. She only opened her eyes when the shrieks and snarls of males overwhelmed her ears. Flashes of cobalt lit the alley. The males scurrying with their tails between their legs, no longer fierce predators, but the fearful prey.

Swirls of shadows slithered around the woman’s body, their touch soft kisses against her skin. They wrapped around her neck and back down before slithering away, one lone tendril remaining and resting against the woman’s wrist. Despite her life being threatened moments before she laughed. This sentient magical being was not scary, but playful and cute.

Then she heard the clearing of a throat and her head slid up, no longer paying attention to the shadow, but the person who wielded them. Whispers of the male and his friends were the talk of the village.

“Shadowsinger.” The male blinked in surprised at her knowledge of who he was.

The male spoke, and the woman, never heard a more lovely sound. “Most people call me Azriel.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Are you alright?”

The woman slid her hand into his and a spark erupted from his touch and the woman panicked as a gold thread wrapped tightly around her heart, she couldn’t see it. She felt it. Something in her mind told her that the other end led to the person in front of her. “You’re my mate.” He whispered. The woman didn’t know what he meant by that. She didn’t have to know. Two things she knew was true:

This Male’s name was Azriel, and this male named Azriel made her feel safe.

A few years went by and the woman absolutely adored her mate.

She had a mate! Someone who was her equal in every way. Someone who promised the day she accepted the bond to love and cherish her until the day air left his lungs for good. Only to promise that in case, he would simply find her in the next life.

The young woman now had a family to call her own and a loving partner to walk through life with. New adventures awaited them.

But she will always be grateful for making the trip to Prythian, the beginning of her Happily Ever After.

The end

Azriel closed the journal, his gaze eyes meeting your cloudy ones. “That was a lovely story, young man.”  He smiled and gripped your now elderly hand. In the Spymaster’s eyes, you had only grown more beautiful with age. Your smile lines grew deeper from the years of laughing with Cassian. Forehead creases from playing too many games with Rhysand focusing on your shields so he couldn’t cheat. Every wrinkle, every crease, every spot told a story. Your story. As your body grew more wrinkles and your hair began to gray, the shadowsinger somehow fell deeper in love with you, your beauty knew no bounds and he thanked the mother that she chose you as his mate.

“You wrote it, my love.”  Azriel gave you a rare smile and you returned it with one of your own. “It’s about how we met. About our bond. You wrote it to tell Nyx someday, to tell our children someday.” Children the two of you were never destined to have, your body too fragile to carry an Illyrian babe to term. You were devastated when Madja revealed that to you. You thought you were broken; Az recalled the numerous times you apologized to him simply for the human body you possessed. Your apologies met with arms around you and Azriel rocking you murmuring how you had nothing to apologize for.

You looked upon the fae male whom in the last 50 years had not aged. His hazel eyes felt familiar to you though you couldn’t place how. One thing you knew for certain was that this male was in love. “You have a woman in your life.” There was a flicker of sadness in the male’s eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. “An old woman can tell these things.”

The male gave you a smile, you felt inclined to reach for his hand, he immediately grips your hand in his own, the raised skin of his scars colliding with the frail now thin skin of your own. “I do. Would you like to hear about her?”

“Please.” The handsome male squeezed your hand. “She must be special, your eyes light up, just asking to talk about her.”

“She’s wonderful.” The male’s timbre shook slightly, you patted his hand encouraging him to continue. “When she reads, she always crinkles her nose, and her face always flushes when she reaches a smutty scene.” You chuckled, “When I return home from a mission, without fail she is the first one to greet me. Leaping into my arms, her scent consuming me entirely.” His thumb idly stroked the top of yours. “My favorite thing about her, is late at night before she goes to bed, she would sit at her desk and write in her journal.”

You blinked and you smiled at the sight of your best friend, your husband, your mate. “You always scolded me to come to bed.” Azriel let a sob lose as he pressed his forehead to yours. “No fair.” He sniffled as his shadows came to greet you, as if you had been gone for ages, “You haven’t aged in 50 years.”

Azriel pressed his lips to yours, “You have only gotten more beautiful with time, my love.”  He pulled away and you were able to see every emotion in his hazel eyes. Most people had a hard time figuring out what Azriel was feeling. You always knew he held every emotion in his beautiful eyes.

You lifted a hand to his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, you swiped away his tears, “We agreed,” You whispered, “No tears. No goodbyes.”

Azriel whimpered and it was the first time you ever saw the spy master look defeated, broken, lost. “We were younger when we agreed to that. You can’t ask this of me.” His palm pressed over yours. “Not when we have such little time.”

“Az, look at me, baby.” His watery gaze met yours, “We were running on borrowed time. I’ve made peace with that years ago.” Another broken sob escaped him, and you began to feel your own tears coming to the surface. “I don’t want this to be how I remember you. This isn’t how I want us to part.”

“This life isn’t worth living, if you’re not here.” His shadows kissed your cheeks, drying your tears. “I can’t live without you, Angel.”

You pressed your forehead to his once more, your arms barely able to lift you up anymore. “You can, and you will. Nyx needs to see how you are not just serious. That you’re funny, and kind, he needs to know that Auntie loved him so much and will watch over him. Just like I will with you.” Your vision blurred as the tears trickled down your aged cheeks. “Maybe we’ll be lucky, and the Cauldron will turn me into one of your shadows.” A strangled sound came out of Azriel. “I love you, Azriel and I will love you in every lifetime.”

Azriel brought your lips to his once more. “I Love you too. Wait for me in the next life.”

“Hold me. One last time.”  You moved to make room for your mate. He slid his boots off and tucked his wings tightly to make room on the cramped bed. He scooped you in his arms, his shadows resting comfortably around your waist. Your whole world holding you close to his chest. “Az?”

“Angel?”

“Will you sing me to sleep?” You whispered, your eyes growing heavy, your body feeling so weak.

Azriel’s wing came over as if knowing you had caught a sudden chill. “For you, my love. Of course.” Azriel’s melodic voice singing words of love and devotion. Before unconscious held a grip on you, you felt his lips on the top of your head, “Until we meet again, My Angel.”

Azriel awoke at the sound of feet pattering on the hard wood floor down the hall. He looked over at you, your skin paled, lips a slight shade of blue, Azriel couldn’t hear your heartbeat and the bond had faded to a dim light sending his love down only to feel hollowness at the other end.  Tears slid down his cheeks as his shadows confirmed what he already knew:

Gone

Gone

She has left.

A little dark head of hair wandered in and Azriel jolted as the heir of the Night Court climbed on the bed. “Auntie!” His little jovial voice echoing through the room. Azriel moved and covered his mouth as he shut his eyes fighting the sob. “Auntie, it’s time to wake up.” The Shadowsinger opened his eyes to find Nyx brows furrowed. “Auntie?” He shakes your lifeless form before he places his head against your chest, as Rhys and Feyre reached the room. Nyx lifted his head, his lip wobbled, as he met Azriel’s eyes.  “Uncle Azzy, why can’t I hear Auntie’s heartbeat anymore?”

Feyre’s cries broke the silence as she also realized how still you had become. Rhys looked at his brother as he held Feyre close. Azriel didn’t miss that he held her closer than normal, not that he faulted his brother.  Rhys’ throat bobbed as though he was trying to contain his emotions, for his mate, and his son. “How long?” The High Lord’s voice cracked.

“We fell asleep. Her memory came back last night.” Azriel picked up Nyx.  “I woke up, she was gone.”

“She’s right there.” Nyx argued. “Auntie, didn’t leave.”

Feyre sniffled as Azriel pressed his cheek to his nephew’s head, “Her soul is gone, Little one. Her body was not meant to live as long as us. She aged and yesterday her soul left this plane of existence.”

Nyx’s eyes, so much like his father’s, lined with silver. “Will she be lonely? I don’t want her to be lonely.”

Azriel held the boy close not noticing Cassian rushing in, pain lacing the General’s face as he walked over to your body. Grabbing your limp hand Azriel whispered, “No she’s not alone, sweet prince. She’ll be busy.” Cassian kissed the top of your hand and Azriel tried to keep his composure.

“With what?”

Feyre answered, “Watching over us. She’ll want to see her favorite nephew grow up.” She walked over, opening her arms so that Azriel would hand Nyx. “Uncle Az needs a minute let’s go down and grab you something to eat.”

The small child simply nodded as he cried into his mother’s sweater. Rhys and Cassian lingered, “I’m sorry, Azriel.” Cassian was the first to speak. “She was a wonderful person.”

“A better friend,” Rhys interjected.

Azriel climbed back into the bed and pressed your lifeless corpse to his chest, allowing the tears to fall. “My perfect mate.” A shadow slithered from your ankle and swirled wildly until spotting its master. The lone shadow lingered by his ear whispering.

I’m Here

I’m With You.

Forever.

🌟🌟🌟

A century had passed without you though Azriel never felt alone. Not when one shadow would remind him you were near. Especially as he lay in the same bed you once did after a mission had gone terribly wrong leaving the spymaster fatally wounded. Sweat coated his brow as Nyx now a grown fae male held his hand, “Uncle Az, I’m sorry I should have listened.”

“Your stubborn, like your father, I’m used to it.” Azriel coughed and blood sputtered from his mouth just as said brother walked in, Cassian in tow.

Nyx rose, “Father, I.”

Fury laced Rhysand’s eyes, “Go see your mother, Uncle Cass and I will be having an at length discussion with you about following orders.” Guilt laced the young males’ features but to Azriel’s surprise, the prince puffed his chest out and walked out of the room, not sparing his brothers a second glance. Azriel smirked.

You would have been so proud of the male he has grown to be.

“He’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?” Your voice carried and Azriel’s head snapped toward the door. His shadows scurried away and began swirling around your body. Not the older woman you were when you left this world, no you were the young woman who braved the fae lands alone. The fierce youthful woman, Azriel had fallen in love with, the only difference was your skin had an ethereal glow and your dress of tool, sleeves draping off your shoulders and down your feet.

“Angel,” Azriel whispered smiling, as Rhysand and Cassian sat at either side of him.

“Madja, said that the wound was laced with poison, she said he might hallucinate.” Rhys spoke holding onto his brother’s hand as if the grip alone could keep him from disappearing.

“We have spent over 600 years together,” Cassian’s tears falling. Azriel’s eyes remained on you as you walked deeper into the room. “I was supposed to go first.” Cassian’s sobs were thunderous but were muffled to Az as he watched you place a hand on Rhys. The High Lord briefly looked over his shoulder as if he felt your touch.

“You noticed my shadow huh?” You giggled as your eyes met Azriel’s hazel ones “I promised you I would be with you. I kept it.” Azriel wanted to speak but you held up your hand, “Baby, save your words.” You looked over at your friends. “They need them more than me right now.”  You moved and Azriel thought you glided from one spot to the other where you pressed a kiss to Cassian’s cheek. A gesture the general always returned. Cassian’s hand slid there tentatively as if remembering your sweet gesture from years ago.

“Cass,” Azriel’s lips chapped throat tight, “You are my dearest friend. Thank you, for being kind to me and showing me what a brother really looks like,” Cassian’s voice broke as he kissed Azriel’s knuckles.

“Fuck you, you prick. You can’t leave. Please don’t leave.” He choked out, Azriel’s gaze turned to Rhysand.

“Rhys.” Azriel wheezed, “It was an honor to serve as…your spymaster…” Rhysand silently cried as he rested his forehead against the shadowsinger’s knuckles. His shadows are still swirling and kissing you. Azriel continued, “Being your brother, and Nyx’s uncle…has…been my greatest…honor…go…easy… on him…” Rhys nodded not being able to form words.

You approached your mate, “My love.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. “I have been granted the greatest gift.” You pressed your lips to his head, “I get to bring you home with me. We can be together again.”

Azriel hummed as another fit of cough erupted from his mouth jolting his two brothers’ alert. “Az, stay with us.” Rhysand’s voice grew panicked. “Azriel, please we still need you. Nyx needs you.”

Azriel’s eyes creaked open, and Cassian noticed life fading from them. “I love you both. Take care of each other.”

“Az-

Azriel cut the general off, “She…” both Cassian and Rhysand stilled, “is calling…me home…”

Rhysand and Cassian then looked to where his shadows were swirling, as if they could see you there. Cassian squeezed his hand fighting the tears. “Tell that little spitfire, hello for me.”

Azriel’s eyes began to droop. “I understand,” His violet eyes looked to where yours would be though he couldn’t see you, “I know you’ll take good care of him, like you did when you were here.”

You leaned down your breath lingering over Azriel’s lips, “It’s time to come back to me.” You kissed his lips and as you did, Azriel’s grip loosened from his brothers’. The roar of Cassian deafening. You pulled away from Azriel’s lifeless body only for hands to grip your waist hoisting you up, there was a glow to the now tanned arms, though his hands, no longer scarred, they were how he had always wished them to be, unharmed, undamaged. His nose grazed your skin, “I missed you too, Azriel.” He hummed.

“My Little Angel.” He pressed his lips to your cheek, “Take me home.”

You led him away, your hand adjusting to the now smooth skin of his own. He looked down at his hands and grinned, and your heart soared “No phantom pains, no ugliness.”

“They were never ugly, Azriel.” You scowled and kissed his knuckles. “Come now we must go.” You led Azriel away from his lifeless body, only to pause and turned to his shadows that were following the two of you, “Take care of them. You hear me.” The shadows nodded and swirled around Rhys and Cassian as if wrapping them in a snug blanket.

As they walked down the hall, glancing at Feyre holding a sobbing Nyx tear of her own, Azriel’s voice broke your concentration. “Tell me the story.” He didn’t need to elaborate.

You paused causing him to stop too, you pressed your lips to his, and he cupped your cheek. You put a hand to his chest and lightly pushed, “There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.” Azriel smiled as you led him to the afterlife.

His Perfect Little Angel.

~Fin

[gwandas]

unreliable narrator discourse in acotar fandom pisses me off tbh SJM isn’t smart enough or talented enough to pull off unreliable narrator trope

If feyre or nesta seem unreliable it’s bc SJM herself is a bird brain with short term memory loss trying to gaslight you by contradicting herself within the same book. If stuff isn’t adding up it’s because she genuinely does not care about her writing enough to make it add up

[merwgue]

Rhysand: The King of Gaslighting and Why FeySand is the Worst Thing to Happen to the Universe

Alright, let’s settle in, grab some popcorn, and talk about the most overrated, gaslit relationship in all of Prythian: FeySand. That’s right, I said it. This whole “star-crossed, night-and-day, perfect-bonded-mates” charade is a masterclass in manipulation. Rhysand, with his smug smile and "feminist" persona, is one of the most toxic characters, and Feyre? Poor Feyre is out here living her best gaslit life, completely delusional and convinced that she’s found her one true love. Honey, no. Let’s break it down.

Feyre, Honey, You Loved Tamlin—Not Rhysand

Let’s start at the beginning. In ACOTAR, Feyre is literally crawling on her knees for Tamlin. She’s breaking herself—body, mind, and soul—to save the beast of the Spring Court. She goes through hell for him: riddle-solving, bone-breaking, soul-shattering hell. And all this, might I add, while Rhysand is busy drugging her, dressing her up like a Vegas showgirl, and parading her in front of Amarantha for his own benefit. So, can someone please explain to me how, by ACOFAS, Feyre suddenly claims she’s been in love with Rhysand since Under the Mountain?

I’m sorry, but what? Is this girl experiencing memory loss? The last time I checked, Feyre was dying for Tamlin. Not Rhys. Not the guy who was playing games and making her dance in skimpy outfits. So when she comes out with this "I’ve loved Rhysand all along" nonsense, I can’t help but scream, "GIRL, WHAT?" There’s some serious revisionist history going on here, and I’m not buying it. Rhysand gaslit her into forgetting her entire arc in the first book. Who does that? Oh, right—a toxic narcissist who needs to be the center of attention.

Rhysand swooped in during Feyre’s post-traumatic breakdown and took advantage of her emotional vulnerability. He didn’t let her heal, he didn’t give her space to process anything. Instead, he inserted himself into her life, spinning this grand tale of "we’re mates, babe, it was destiny all along." Uh, no, it wasn’t. Destiny doesn’t gaslight you into forgetting your entire past relationship.

Who Really Killed Amarantha? (Hint: Not Rhysand)

Oh, and don’t even get me started on this insane claim that Feyre and Rhysand together killed Amarantha. Like, excuse me? Did we all just forget that Tamlin is the one who literally stabbed her? It wasn’t Rhys, standing in the corner looking broody with his shadowy vibes, and it wasn’t Feyre, who was busy dying at the time.

But somehow, in Rhysand’s rewritten narrative, they both killed Amarantha together, hand in hand, like some Bonnie and Clyde fantasy. This is not their victory. This is Tamlin’s victory—yes, the same Tamlin Feyre is suddenly pretending never existed. Rhysand has fully convinced her that he was the hero of the story. What kind of manipulative mind games are we playing here?

If Rhysand were a real person, he’d be out here taking credit for the moon landing and convincing you that he invented electricity. The man loves to gaslight, and Feyre is drinking that Kool-Aid like there’s no tomorrow.

Rhysand: "Feminist" in the Streets, Manipulator in the Sheets

Let’s talk about Rhysand’s whole "I’m a feminist" shtick, shall we? I love a man who respects women as much as the next person, but Rhysand is no feminist icon. This is a dude who spent months controlling Feyre’s every move, drugging her for his own gain, and parading her around like a trophy while making sure she knew he held all the power.

"Oh, but he was saving her!" Was he, though? Or was he just manipulating her into believing he was the only one who could save her? There’s a fine line between protecting someone and making them completely dependent on you, and Rhysand is walking that line with all the grace of a snake in stilettos.

And the real kicker? Rhysand convinces Feyre that everything Tamlin did was wrong, but when he does the exact same thing, it’s suddenly romantic and protective. Tamlin locking Feyre up? Abusive. Rhysand stalking her, tracking her every move, and controlling her entire existence? Oh, that’s love, babe. Gotta keep her safe, you know?

The Mate Bond: Love or Just More Gaslighting?

Now let’s get to the mate bond. Oh, the glorious mate bond that’s supposed to be this undeniable force of nature. But if you actually look closely, it’s just another tool Rhysand uses to control Feyre. He literally withholds the information about the bond for months, letting her spiral into depression and chaos, before revealing it in this dramatic, theatrical way. Because of course, Rhysand has to control the narrative. He couldn’t possibly tell her about the bond when she was still making her own choices—nope, he had to wait until she was at her weakest, so he could swoop in and be the savior.

And then, when Feyre finally accepts the bond, it’s like she’s completely forgotten that she’s been manipulated the whole time. "Oh, Rhysand didn’t tell me about this life-altering bond that ties us together forever? No big deal, I love him now." I’m sorry, what? If that’s not a red flag the size of Prythian, I don’t know what is.

FeySand: The Worst Love Story Ever Told

So here we are, with this allegedly epic love story between Feyre and Rhysand, built on a foundation of gaslighting, manipulation, and rewritten history. Feyre, once a strong, independent woman who sacrificed herself for her loved ones, has been reduced to a puppet in Rhysand’s game. She’s forgotten her love for Tamlin, rewritten her trauma Under the Mountain, and swallowed Rhysand’s lies whole.

And yet, we’re supposed to root for this couple? I think not. FeySand is the most toxic relationship in the series, and yet somehow, everyone’s convinced it’s #goals. In reality, Feyre has been gaslit into oblivion, Rhysand is a master manipulator masquerading as a hero, and the entire plotline feels like it’s just one big exercise in seeing how far Rhys can push Feyre before she loses all sense of self.

Conclusion: Feyre, Please Wake Up

If I could sit Feyre down for a heart-to-heart, I’d tell her this: Girl, you’re living in a delusion. You loved Tamlin, you fought for Tamlin, and Rhysand gaslit you into believing otherwise. He’s rewritten your memories, twisted your experiences, and convinced you that this toxic relationship is some grand love story. It’s not. It’s manipulation at its finest.

So please, Feyre, for the love of all things sacred, take a step back, look at the facts, and realize that Rhysand has been gaslighting you since day one. You deserve better than this puppet-master of a High Lord.

[lifeisabiscuit]

Darling.

Finally finished my first acotar fic. It's a Tamsand fic based on Rhys going to visit Tamlin in fas. I hope everyone likes it, I'm super nervous lol.

Link to AO3 or read below. Happy reading!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58618741

Sitting in chairs too delicate for either one of them, Rhysand crossed his legs while staring at the blonde male in front of him.

“Well? What do you want Rhysand?” Tamlin asked, folding his arms.

Rhys glanced at the arms and shoulders of the other male, noting the loss of muscle “I just thought I’d come by and have a little chat”

“Since when do we chat Rhysand? Usually you just invade minds and make threats.”

Rhys smirked “Thought I’d switch it up today. Though, it's no fun riling you up without an audience. Speaking of which, I’m surprised Lucien isn’t standing outside the door waiting to fight your battles for you.””

Glaring, Tamlin said “He’s out hunting dinner for us. Not that I need him here. I can handle you on my own Rhysand”

“I’m sure you can. You used to handle me quite well . After the first couple times of course” Rhys smirked.

“Shut up Rhysand” Tamlin snapped, trying not to think of what Rhysand was alluding to “that was a long time ago. What do you really want?”

Rhys sighed “Not interested in a walk down memory lane Tamlin? Fine. What’s this I hear about you not protecting your borders?”

Tamlin stared at him then waved his hand “Do you see anyone here to do it?”

Rhys smirked “Ah yes. My mate sure did her job well, didn’t she”

Tamlin snorted “With plenty of instruction from you I’m sure. Or did you just use your special powers to control her?”

“Come now darling, do you really think that low of me?”

“Yes, I do. And don’t call me that Rhysand” Tamlin growled

“And why not? That’s what I used to call you. Don’t you remember, my darling? Back when you were following me around like a puppy and worshipping the ground I walked on. When I was sneaking into your tent in your Daddy’s war camp and teaching you everything you didn’t know. Surely you haven’t forgotten”

Tamlin glowered and looked to the floor while a hint of a blush showed on his cheeks at the mention of their previous encounters “Don’t call me what you call her.”

“Jealous are we? Don’t worry Tamlin, you’ll always be my first darling. Just like I was your first-“

“Stop. Stop bringing up the past. It means nothing”

“on the contrary pet, it means everything. You ruined my life the day you betrayed me and got my family killed. And then you abused my mate. I’ll never forget it and I’ll never let you forget it. I will haunt you everyday of your life. You’ll never know when I’ll come. You will pay for what you’ve done”

Gripping the arms of his chair, Tamlin gritted “haven’t I paid enough? You killed my brothers and your father murdered my mother. Was that not enough payback for you? Your actions forced me to be high lord something you knew I didn’t want and wasn’t prepared for and you left me alone! Not to mention all your sick games when you were working for Ama- for her. And then you stole my fiancé and turned her against me. Got her to destroy my court for you. You want to talk about harming Feyre? How about everything you did to her under the mountain? Dressing her up practically naked and having her dance for you. Just to make me what? Jealous, angry? Well congratulations, you succeeded. You’ve ruined my life just as much as I’ve ruined yours. The difference is I’ve left you alone and you keep showing up to bother me”

Rhys seethed “Do not speak about my mate. She was Falling apart while you sat there and did nothing! Everything I did was for a reason and she understands that. I didn’t need to turn her against you. You did that yourself.”

“I couldn’t do anything! You know that she was watching everything I did. If I reacted at all it would have been worse for Feyre.”

“and yet you did get her alone and what did you do? Tried to fuck her. Couldn’t keep it in your pants for one night to free your beloved?”

“And where would I have taken her?” Tamlin yelled “I didn’t know the ins and outs of the mountain. Ama-she would have hunted us down even if we had gotten out. And all I did was kiss her. She started undressing me. I thought that was what she needed from me. But you couldn’t even let us have that moment. Then when I’m forced to follow her back all I see is you with your tongue down her throat. You want to bring up the past? Then tell me Rhys, were you jealous? Of her or me? Could you taste me on her tongue? Did it remind you of us? Of how you sought me out and taught me things I had never even dreamed of? That first time we kissed? The first time I let you take me? The times after that?”

Rhys glowered as visions of those times danced around his mind. Feeling his pants tighten as the memories resurfaced, he cursed under his breath as the scent of his arousal filled the air.

Tamlin smirked as the scent hit him “do you still think of it now? Do you picture me underneath you when you fuck her?”

“shut up Tamlin” Rhys gritted out.

“That’s what I thought” Tamlin smirked, standing up “I think it’s time for you to go. Maybe your mate can take care of your little problem”

He walked around the desk and started for the door when Rhysands hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

Tamlin tried to pull his arm back but Rhys just tightened his grip “let go of me Rhysand”

Gaining his composure, Rhys stood up and quickly grabbed Tamlins other wrist, pulling him closer.

“I don’t think I will Darling “ Rhys crooned “maybe you’re right. Maybe you do cross my mind time to time. Mostly when I have my mate in my favorite position of ours. Remember? Bent over the bed or table so I can see myself pounding in and out of her. Just like I used to watch my cock sink in and out of your tight hole.”

Tamlin, still trying to get out of Rhysands grasp, blushed at the words.

“Blushing Tamlin? Weren’t you the one trying to rile me up with our past escapades? I know you enjoyed it Darling. I remember the way you used to scream my name”

Giving up on getting Rhys to let go, Tamlin muttered “too bad for you, it will never happen again”

“on the contrary, I think it’s going to happen again” Rhys moved both of Tamlins wrists to one hand, putting his other arm around his waist and pulled him against him “right now”

Tamlin shook his head, trying again to step away from Rhys. He stilled when he felt his erection bump against Rhysands.

Rhys leaned in and whispered in his ear “I can tell you want this Darling. You can’t deny it.” Leaning in, he started kissing down Tamlins neck.

Tamlin growled which turned into a moan when Rhys sucked a small mark into his neck “Rhys, please”

Rhys licked at the mark a couple times “please what?”

“Please, I don’t want..” his words cut off with a groan as Rhys took that moment to bite down, hard, on his neck.

Rhys moved the arm on Tamlins waist down to squeeze his ass and moved him closer so their elections bumped again. Tamlin bit his lip to stop the moan that threatened to come out.

“It sure doesn’t feel like you don’t want this. In fact, I think this is what we both need. Now” Rhys snapped and both their clothes were off, folded on the chair across the room “be a good boy and turn around” he said looking Tamlin up and down. He has definitely lost some muscle but he still had the body of a God “hands on the desk”

Tamlin, distracted by the sight of Rhys’ member, hesitated before making a decision and turning around.

Rhys groaned as he took in the glorious sight that was Tamlins ass “gorgeous” he said as he reached out and stroked one cheek. He definitely didn’t lose any definition in this area. Rhys wondered if he were still as tight as he used to be.

“Tell me darling” Rhys said as he groped onto Tamlins ass with both hands, massaging it while pulling apart to get a good look at the sweet hole in between “How many males have taken my spot behind you? Have shoved their cocks into your tight heat?”

Head hanging as he tried not to give in to the pleasure of Rhys just groping him, Tamlin muttered “No one”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you. Louder, darling” Rhys said as he moved a thumb down to stroke over Tamlins hole, making him shiver.

“No one!” Tamlin said louder “I haven’t been with anyone like that since you”

“Good” Rhys said while lightly moving his thumb “I must admit that I’ve taken many others this way. Not since I’ve met my mate of course. Both males and females, but none have felt like you”. He gently pushed his thumb into the other males entrance, both of them groaning. Rhys at the feeling of tight heat and Tamlin at the sudden feeling of a dry thumb in his ass.

“Rhys…”

“Shh…Relax darling.” Rhys knelt down “let me have a taste”

“Wha-“ Tamlins words cut off with a moan as he felt Rhys open his cheeks wider and lick a stripe over his hole.

Rhys continued to lick around, making it wet before slowly pushing it inside.

Tamlin threw his head back and moaned loudly “Rhys, please” he begged.

Rhys pulled his tongue out, nipping one of Tams cheeks “please what?” he crooned.

Groaning at the loss of contact and the bite, Tamlin pleaded “please…more”

“Gladly my love” Rhys purred as he put his tongue back inside Tamlins furled hole, moving it in and around. Occasionally slipping it out and nibble on his rim, before shoving his tongue deeper.

Tamlin moaned at the feeling of Rhys moving in and out “Oh gods…That feels so.. good”

Rhys continued his actions until he could hear Tamlins breath quicken and his hole tighten.

Tamlin whined as he felt Rhys pull out “Why did you stop?”

Standing up, Rhys grasped his own erection, moving his hand up and down, distributing the slick gathering in the tip of his cock. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you finish if you continue being a good boy. Now” he said as he reached forward with his other hand and turned Tamlins face towards him with his fingers “get my fingers nice and wet so I can continue to play”

Tamlins eyes fluttered shut as he opened his mouth and started sucking hungrily on  Rhys’ fingers.

Rhys continued to stroke himself as he watched Tamlin.

After a minute or 2 of trying not to erupt just from Tamlins hot mouth and feeling that his fingers were sufficiently wet enough, Rhys removed them.

Leaning over and kissing Tamlins spine,  Rhys slid his fingers down to his hole and rubbed them around before slowly moving his pointer finger into Tamlins hot heat.

Though loosened a little by Rhys’ tongue, the younger males breath still hitched at the feeling of the finger moving inside.

Rhys, still leaned over him, added his middle finger feeling Tamlin tighten.

Kissing around his neck and shoulders, Rhys murmured gently “relax, Tam.”

Tamlin took a deep breath and relaxed as he got used to the feeling. The more Rhys moved his fingers, the more pleasure he felt. Soon he was grinding back on his fingers “mmm..Rhys, harder please”.

“Yeah? You like that?”

Tamlin nodded, moaning as Rhys started moving his fingers harder into him.

“You think you can take one more?” Rhys purred

Tamlin nodded “yes! Yes please Rhys” he begged.

Rhys smirked as he knelt down again and licked around where his fingers were pumping in and out. When he felt it was wet enough, he added a third finger.

“Oh gods!” Tamlin cried out at the feeling of fullness he felt just from three of Rhys’ fingers.

Rhys kept plunging his fingers in and out of Tamlin while occasionally licking around his hole.

“Rhys” Tamlin groaned “Rhys, I’m so close again”

Standing up while continuing to pump his fingers in and out of Tamlin, Rhys slowly stood up. He leant down and with a pointed tongue lightly licked a trail from the bottom of Tamlins spine to his neck where he sucked a mark into leaving Tamlin to gasp and moan.

Rhys moved his free hand around and gripped Tamlins member hard around the base, making the other male cry out “Rhys!”

“You’re not going to finish on my fingers. You can cum when I’m buried deep in your ass”

Tamlin panted “Put it in then. I’m ready”

“Patience, darling” Rhys cooed as he removed his fingers from inside and his hand from Tamlins cock “I’m going to need a little help getting more wet before we get to that. Why don’t you be a good boy and put those pretty lips around my cock. Get me nice and wet for you”

Straightening up and turning around, Tamlin made sure to keep eye contact with Rhysand as he slowly kneeled down.

Tamlin licked his lips and reaches out to grab Rhys’ hard member in his hand. He slowly leaned in and kissed fhe tip, making Rhys groan.

“cmon baby”

Tamlin furrowed his eyes at the Nickname but started liking the length of him before taking it into his mouth. He coughed and pulled back as it hit the back of his throat. But he tried again, swallowing down a little at a time before he could finally take the whole thing.

Rhys moaned as he looked down at the other male with his mouth full. He started slowly thrusting “Made for this my darling. With those lips of yours. You look perfect with my cock in your mouth”

Tamlin moaned around the length. Both at the feeling and taste of Rhys and at the praise he was receiving even though a part of him raged at Rhys being in control.

Rhys continued to thrust in and out of Tamlins hot mouth. At some point he gripped the blonde locks to help guide him along until he felt himself get close.

Pulling his member out, Rhys rubbed his tip over Tamlins mouth one more time. He stepped back, looking down at his lover whose hair was messed and eyes glossy. Rhys reached out and stroked a hand down one cheek before saying “Get up, hands back on the desk”

Tamlin rolled his eyes at Rhysands bossy tone but did as he was told. He got up and started to turn around until Rhys reached out and grabbed a hold of his wrist “Wait”

Turning back to face Rhys fully, Tamlin asked “What?”

Rhys was silent as he studied Tamlins face. The furrowed brow, his green eyes, the swollen lips and the flushed cheeks “Beautiful”

Tamlin flushed even more “Shut up”

“Never” Rhys murmured sliding his hand to the back of Tamlins head, fingers tangling in his hair. Rhys pulled him closer “Come here”

Rhys leaned in and softly kissed Tamlin on his mouth, lips still swollen from before. Softly moaning, he kissed harder as Tamlin tentatively grabbed his arm, kissing back.

Licking Tamlins mouth making him open, Rhys deepened the kiss until they were fully making out. Both grabbing onto the other, running their hands across the others body.

When Rhys squeezed Tamlins ass, he broke the kiss with a gasp “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Rhys growled “With pleasure darling, turn around.”

Tamlin quickly did as he was told, putting his hands back on the desk.

Spitting on his hand, Rhys moved it up and down his cock before placing it onto Tamlins hole. He rubbed it around until he felt Tamlin relax and then he slowly pushed it in.

Both males groaned at the feeling. Rhys at the pleasure of the tight heat and Tamlin at the slight pain of the first cock in his ass in the centuries since he was last with Rhys.

Rhys worked in the first bit before stopping to let Tamlin adjust and to stop himself from losing control at the tightness swallowing his member.

Once he got used to the feeling, Tamlin started shifting his hips back, moving back on Rhysands penis.

Rhys moaned while tightening his hands on Tamlins lithe hips while starting to move deeper.

They both moaned at the feeling of their joining. Rhys continuing to go faster and harder as their cries of pleasure grew louder.

Tamlin could feel he was close as he took his hand off the desk and reached for his throbbing member.

 “Uh uh, put your hands back on the desk Darling. You will cum on my cock and nothing else.”

“I cant” Tamlin breathed while obeying and putting his hands back on the desk “I can’t.. I need to be touched. Please Rhys.”

Rhys stopped moving “its either you cum without touching or I pull out now and leave you wanting”

“No!” Tamlin cried “please. Please don’t stop. I’ll do it”

“you’ll do what, darling?”

“Ill cum on your cock. I wont touch myself. Ill listen”

Rhys smirked and with a smack on Tamlins ass, earning him a gasp and a moan from the other male, he continued thrusting “good boy”

Gripping Tamlins hips, Rhys started slamming into him harder and deeper than before. Looking down and watching himself enter Tamlin over and over, he can’t help but let out a moan at the overwhelming euphoria of being enveloped in his tight heat.

Angling his hips, Rhys knew he hit Tamlins spot when the males claws came out and dug into the desk as he called out his name “Rhys! Right there. Oh gods!”

 Tamlin continued to moan and scratch at the desk as Rhys fucked him harder and faster. Rhys thrusted a few more times until he felt his orgasm coming on.

Feeling that Tamlin was also close by the tightening of his hole, Rhys tightened his grip on his hips “Here it comes Tam. Are you gonna take it all?”

Tamlin, silver gathering in his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of Rhys taking him, cried out “yes! Yes! Please Rhys!”

“cum with me darling” Rhys said as he continued to hit that spot. A few more thrusts and they both released together. Rhysand emptying himself into Tamlin while he came on the desk he was bent over.

Panting, Rhys leaned over and put his forehead on Tamlins back while he calmed down. A few minutes pass as both males catch their breathe.

Rhys rubbed his hands up and down Tamlins sides as he came down. Already thinking about how long until Lucien came back and if they had time for another round, maybe on the floor, Rhys missed Tamlin tensing up.

Tamlin, coming down from his high and realizing what just happened, what he let happen, started beating himself up over giving in to Rhys again. Tensing up as he already regretted his actions “Get out”

Blinking, Rhys straightened up, softening cock still inside Tamlin “What?”

Sighing and straightening up so Rhys had no choice but to pull out, watching as his seed dripped out of Tamlins rear until he turned around.

Crossing his arms , Tamlin looked blankly at Rhys “I said get out. You got what you’ve come for and now you can leave. “

“Do you always kick your bedmates out as soon as you’re done, Tamlin? Or are you worried we will have some company soon? We must have time for a second round, let’s just go to your room. It’s been a while since I’ve been in there. “

“No, Rhysand. It’s over. This will never happen again”

Staring at Tamlin blankly for a moment before snapping his fingers and having his clothing back on, Rhysand picked at the lint on his shirt “oh I think it will Darling. In fact, why don’t we make this a monthly thing. Every month, I’ll come and have you bend over and let me fuck that tight ass of yours where ever I feel like. Call it reparations for everything you’ve done”

“No. I don’t want to see you again, Rhysand. Don’t come back”

Rhys tsked and stepped closer to Tamlin, Gripping his still naked hips “That’s clearly a lie my love. Was it not you just screaming my name while my cock was inside you? You clearly enjoyed it Darling and you will continue to enjoy it. No one will ever make you feel the way I do. I’ll never leave you alone”

Leaning in, he kissed Tamlin on the lips, biting a little “now be a good boy and clean yourself up before Lucien comes back. We don’t need him seeing my property in all its glory”.

Pulling back and stepping away, Rhys ran his fingers through Tamlins messy blonde hair and stepped back “see you next month my darling” and winnowed away.

[ladydeath-vanserra]

Preparing, Cooking and Curing Venison

ok so I'm from rural Iowa, right. and Hunting is a big, big thing. I have a very vivid memory of a hunter hanging a deer upside down in his backyard to bleed it dry

and while rereading the first few chapters and reading the "few hours" in terms of curing the meat, it had me a bit 🤨. even tho I had never hunted myself, it did trigger an alarm in my head so I went deep diving. never in my life did I think I'd be looking into curing meat and here we are

there's several ways to cure meat but the most traditional is dry curing with salt. I see 'traditional' I see 'old school'. This is like medieval times so it seemed the most logical and ideal form of curing

1) eating raw venison is a Risk. no one who is actually versed in hunting and eating game is going to risk getting sick when they're already starving. Diarrhea and loss of fluids is a huge risk factor

2) Feyre said she alloted a "few hours" to curing meat. it needs a MINIMUM of 24 hours to 5 DAYS in order to properly cure. as stated above, would people be willing to pay for a "few hours of curing" when 1) curing meat was a common practice 2) with it being a common practice are people really going to gamble with a "few hours" of curing with the risks of illness from unproperly preserved meat 3) it needs a ton of salt in order to do cure. Salt was a luxury for a lot of medieval folks. it probably cost them a decent sum to be able to aquire

while venison is "easy" to cook, it can be tricky as it can easily get overcooked and very tough. As we can see, it's roasted. roasting is predominantly done in an oven or a crockpot. considering it's medieval times, I'm gonna guess an oven. Ovens were very rare and very expensive in the home and community ovens are more likely to be used.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say they cooked it over a fire. it's a few minutes to prevent over-cooking. it's not a typical food that would be cooked in a more lavish lifestyle and since Feyre could not cook, I'm going to wager that it took a little bit of trial and error for one of the sisters to learn how

"but Atlas!" you say. "Its just fantasy. Who CARES if it's not accurate!"

don't care

she could have done the research needed for hunting if her main character is gonna be flouncing around as a "huntress"

I feel like this is just further elaboration of SJM speed running the beginning of acotar to get to Bigger Plot Points tbh. she makes being a Huntress™️ Feyres whole ass theme that Jumpstarts the series. She cannot cook. She cures the meat. her sisters and father get labeled as Lazy. so who cooks?

a little bit of consistency pls

[illyrian-dreamer]

Overwritten – Part 9

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Words: 1,508

--------

Part 9 ∇

You were still sobbing, still apologising when the cold of the wooden floors felt solid beneath your knees. Azriel’s shadows began to thin, clearing around you to reveal your personal quarters. He kept his hold on you, his hands firm on both your sides. Azriel was cautious to not smother or confine you – instead he grounded you, allowing you to breath.

He was muttering something you were unable to hear over the roar of your hysteria, letting you rock in his arms as devastation continued to consume you. I hate myself, I hate what I’ve become – it was a chant that sounded in your mind over and over, one you’d never be able to forget it.

Feyre’s eyes had turned so cold when she took Nyx away – it was fear, but also a warning that she would do whatever it took to protect her child. You didn’t blame her, how could you? You had given her plenty of reason to not trust you these past months. And the rest of your family – the way they froze when Nyx approached you, not a breath shared amongst them. It was as if they were waiting, just waiting for you to do the worst.

The feeling that gnawed at your heart hurt so much that your stomach clenched while you cried, your arms snaking around your middle in comfort. It was pure, harrowing self loathing. You hated yourself for the monster you had become. How could you let Hybern change you so much that your own family were afraid of you? How could you be so weak?

Azriel’s silken voice cut through the noise then, floating above the chant in your mind, his words gentle and airy. “You have nothing to be sorry for, love. I know you, I love you.”

You felt a warmth moving to comfort you from within, Azriel sending an ocean of reassurance and understanding through the bond. But like waves crashing against a cliff, the water broke no matter how strong their current, and all you could feel was the faint spray that made it to the other side.

You pushed out of him arms, clambering to stand as you gripped your bed post, one hand pressed against the gnaw at your heart. “No, no, no Azriel! Get away!” You were unlovable – a hideous, violent thing. The dark chuckle in the depths of your mind confirmed it.

Azriel stood with you, but kept his distance. “Try to breath, Y/N.”

“Stay back,” you threw over your shoulder, your hand now clutching at your throat as you tried to steady your breaths. He was right, you needed to calm down. If that voice got any closer…

Azriel placed large hand on the centre of your back. It warmed you, grounded you, loved you even. It was something you didn't deserve, and would never deserve again. You hated it.

You spun, your teeth bared. “I said get away!”

Azriel visibly flinched, snatching his hand back as his shadows climbed his tall frame, sensing their master’s shock.

Your eyes darted across his, then down to your shaking hands that you held in front of you. Small crescent shaped wounds had reopened from where your nails pressed, your blood smeared across your palms.

You see Y/N, you won’t ever heal. Not fully, that dark voice said.

“Shut up!” you spat, closing your eyes and trying to find the dark figure that began a lethal stroll across your mind. It was far too close, closer than it had been in weeks.

You are what I made you. A mere weapon.

“Y/N, I’m here. Stay with me.” Azriel’s voice cut through from the outside. Your mind reeled as you struggled to balance realities.

Clutching at the roots of your hair, you allowed yourself to slip further into the depths of your mind, facing the shadowy figure, it’s red eyes gleaming through the darkness.

That’s it Y/N, give in to what you truly are and join me.

“I am nothing like you,” you spat, the figure circling you as he laughed.

Then why do you choke the life from your mate as we speak?

Gasping, your eyes flew open to find your bloodied hands holding Azriel’s neck. You weren't choking him, not yet – instead your fingers gingerly curled around his throat, ready to attack, to kill. You spluttered, your eyes wide as you tried to pry your hands off of him, but there was something in you, an insidious calling, that kept them there. You gritted your teeth, fighting to reclaim control of your body and mind.

Azriel’s eyes bored into yours, yet he showed no fear. Instead those golden brown eyes swirled with earnest and a stupid amount of faith. “I trust you.” was all he said.

You blinked at him, trembling hands still around his neck. Grunting, you fought the urge to close them tighter, begging yourself to pull away.

Scarred hands rested on your forearms then. Azriel didn’t pry yours from his neck, but instead he just touched you.

“I love you, Y/N. I know you won’t hurt me.”

Tears poured down your face. Azriel’s love was unconditional, even when you couldn’t love yourself. He trusted you, and would die trying to prove it to you over and over again.

With a disgruntled scream, you forced your hands off Azriel’s neck, clutching them to your chest as you panted, exhausted from the sheer will it took to pull away. Racked with sobs, you turned away from your mate, ashamed to have repeated the same moment when you had first been freed. Months of hard work had been unravelled in seconds, proving you were not any better. You had let everyone down.

“Shhh, shh,” Azriel pulling you to him. You stuck your arm out, stopping him from encompassing you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop that,” he said, levelling a look at you. “You didn't hurt me.”

“I wanted to kill you Azriel! Don't you understand that?”

“But you didn’t Y/N! You didn’t! And that’s the only part that matters.”

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to shut everything out. The room spun, and the throbbing behind your eyes was as painful as ever. You were nauseous, sick of yourself, sick of the how much you had to give just to stop hurting the people you loved. You were better off alone, and they were better off without you.

“I-I can’t breathe.” Azriel watched helplessly.

You needed to get away. Away from your mate and your family, where you could hurt no one and they could live in peace.

Beyond your bedroom window, away from the sparkling city of Velaris, lay the thick of the woods. It was dark, cold, and beckoned almost as strongly as the bond between you and Azriel.

You looked back at the Shadowsinger, your own winnowing powers beginning to activate for the first time in months. “I need you to let me go,” you said, your voice broken at the decision you had already made.

Azriel’s eyes shone with fresh tears, his shadows scouting for you straight away. But with a tight swallow, he nodded, silently calling them back to curl around his fists.

“I understand,” was all he said. But by then you had already winnowed from the room.

————

Moments later, Rhys burst into your quarters, behind him Feyre and Mor. They entered to find Azriel facing the window, watching the dark of the woods, wings tight and shadows pressed against the glass.

“We heard yelling,” Rhys said. Azriel didn't answer, didn't even turn.

“Az? Where is Y/N?” Feyre asked, placing a gentle hand on the his shoulder.

Azriel sighed. “She left.”

“Left for where?” Mor’s question was frantic, readying herself to find you immediately.

“To the woods.”

“The woods?” Rhys questioned, his face wracked with confusion.

“She couldn't breath here, she was… panicked, trapped. She said I needed to let her go, so I did.”

There was silence amongst them.

“I’m sorry for how today unfolded,” Feyre apologised. “Elain is so upset.”

Azriel shook his head softly, finally turning to his family. “It’s alright. No one is to blame.”

“I’ll track Y/N mind to mind while she’s out there,” Rhys offered, to which Azriel nodded.

“I’ll send my shadows too, in time.”

“Will you retrieve her?” Mor asked, chewing on her lip.

“Only if she needs me to,” Azriel said with a frown.

“And how will you know?”

“I’m her mate. I’ll know.”

Mor nodded before she ran a comforting hand along Azriel’s arm, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

“Is Cass still here?” the Shadowsinger asked.

“He’s back at the House of Wind with Nesta,” Feyre answered. “He didn't want to provoke you any further.”

Nodding, Azriel winced at the twinge of guilt in his stomach, remembering how he badly he had hurt his brother earlier that day. “I owe him an apology,” was all he said as he prepared to winnow himself, his shadows looping closely for their departure.

————

Part 10 >>>

AN: I hope you liked this chapter, and thank you for your patience while I finessed this part! 💌 The support for this series has been overwhelming – so just another thank you for following along the journey, it means so much to me ❤️❤️❤️ 

I’ll put tags in a reblog from here on, but drop a comment to join the list!

[kristeristerin]

There’s not enough Tarquin content here so I was wondering if I could send in Tarquin x reader to Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) by Taylor Swift as a prompt for the drabbles you’re planning on writing? Thanks!

AN: Thank you so much for the ask! Tarquin is a character that I may not have chosen to do on my own, but after writing him I feel like I need to explore more with him! I hope you feel like I did him justice!

As Always my asks are open for more Taylor Swift song and ACOTAR pairings! (I'll take other requests too of course!)

Song: Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)

Pairing: Reader X Tarquin

Content Warning: None

Words: 860

Your hands were shaking as you looked around the Summer Palace. This was your first time returning to Adriata in over 50 years and while coming back home should feel like a happy occurrence, you can’t help but worry about seeing him again. 

When you last saw Tarquin he’d just been the prince of Udrin, and the man you’d loved since you were children. Now though, you supposed, things would be different. While you could convince yourself that love would have been enough for the two of you when he was a prince, High Lords have a duty to uphold and marriage to a lesser fae was not part of that. 

Varian gave you a tight smile as he held out an arm to you, “He’s been asking for you. Are you ready?” 

“I’m not certain I’ll ever be ready to face him if I’m being honest,” you looked away from the Prince’s eyes as he led you through the palace hallways. Your eyebrows draw together when Varian turns not toward the High Lord’s study, but instead toward the doors leading to the back garden. 

“He’s out there waiting for you,” Varian drops your arm and gives you a gentle push toward the doors. 

When you step outside he’s facing away from you, instead choosing to look out at the ocean beyond the city. You are several feet away from him when you stop and drop into a low curtsy. “You wanted to see me, High Lord?” 

You hear him turn, but you don’t dare look up. 

“Y/N,” Tarquin laughs, “Surely you know we are far past these formalities. We’ve known each other since childhood after all.” 

You rise but still don’t look him in the eyes. “I’ve never known you as High Lord, though.” 

He steps forward and runs his hand through your hair, using it to gently raise your gaze to his, “I’d like you to.” He whispers before his lips brush yours in a gentle kiss. He steps away but grabs your hand before you can mourn the loss of his touch. “Come with me, I wish to show you something.” 

He led you further into the garden to the all too familiar tree. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked as he pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you. 

You laugh at the memory. “I wanted Cressida and Varian to like me so bad. I followed them out here to meet their cousin, and you hated me. I believe you even threatened to throw me into the ocean that day.” 

He looked away, biting his lip to contain his own laughter. “To be fair that wasn’t until after you had threatened to tell my mother that I wouldn’t be the Prince in your game of make-believe.” 

“Mmm, yes, and fitting punishment for my crime,” you pull away from his grip and approach the largest tree in the corner of the garden. You touch the small carving in the tree and turn to him. “Do you remember this?” you ask in a small voice. 

When he approaches you, Tarquin turns you toward the tree and wraps both of his arms around you. “Of course, I do,” his breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. “This was the carving I made into the tree 9 years later when I finally agreed to be your prince. Nostrus was very cross with me for carving our initials into the tree.” 

Smiling at the memory you turn in his arms so you’re face to face. “I always hoped I’d be your princess.” You murmur looking at him through your lashes. 

Tarquin cupped your jaw and returned your smile, “Now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be the High Lord’s Lady. Perhaps not right away, but if you’ll let me court you again I know I can prove to you that we can have everything we once had, and so much more.” 

His smile falters as you begin to cry, “Have I said something wrong, my love?” 

“No,” you sniffle and then laugh at the horrid sound you made, “this is just unexpected. I thought you had asked me to join you here so you could tell me that we were through because a High Lord could never spend his life with a lesser fae.” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he looked into your eyes, “There is nothing lesser about you. It’s the thought of you and the life that we could have together that got me through every day under that mountain. I’d be honored to be able to one day call you my wife, and our people would be better off with you at my side. Please, don’t think for a moment you're unworthy of anything, least of all me. I have loved you with all that I am since I was 18 years old, Y/N, and I will continue to do so for centuries more.” 

You lift a hand to his cheek and lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Tarquin, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.” 

[fineghkst]

ACOTAR HEADCANONS

Azriel 🗡

azriel as your mate

azriel in bed*

azriel x mate with memory loss

bathing with azriel

Cassian ⚔️

cassian as your mate

Bat boys 🦇

bat boys cooking for you

bat boys x sick reader

Eris Vanserra 🍁

eris as your mate

eris x mate with memory loss

eris x sick reader

Lucien Vanserra 🦊

lucien x sick reader

how lucien acts around his mate

[acourtofthought]

About Az and his sexual perversions.

I always imagined that I liked one or two different things, nothing much.

And Gwyn has her past, but it doesn't and shouldn't dictate the kind of sex she should have and can't have X because she can only do everything gently.

And the fact that Elain did her first time with her ex-fiancé doesn't make her too experienced or tempted by kinky sex, nor does it say that Az doesn't need to be gentle with her.

For me, Elain and Gwyn can move on from being nice to whatever they want to do with their partners when they feel ready.

They are characters from a book but this thing about She can't because she needs this and that and so on...

Sarah won't match anyone with anyone if they don't match and there's one in the other's way.

I confess that this speech about Az and his sex life and how people treat it makes me want Elain and Gwyn far away from him.

Giving the impression that he can't be kind to anyone and can only be with someone who doesn't even need kindness at any time and has to have a thousand sexual experiences.

I don't even know if you understand, but that's it.

I also think people are making assumptions about what him being a freak in bed means. We have no idea what SJM considers a freak in bed. She could simply mean he uses his shadows in the similar way Dorian used his magic on Manon and really, that's not that freaky. Maybe Az likes to be tied up and that leaves him at Gwyn's mercy. Maybe he's into toes. It's amusing that some automatically jump to Az being the Christian Grey of the ACOTAR series complete with his own red room of pain especially when that would be completely out of character for him in terms of how he treats women. When around Elain he speaks "softly, gently" and "carefully" takes her hand in his own. He was bothered by the treatment his mother received. Yet they assume he's going to get Elain behind closed doors and leave welts on her ass from his flogger? Also, I think some fail to realize that when you break it down, Gwyn and Elain's experiences somewhat parallel one another. Rape is a crime of violence, control and power. Elain was first kidnapped then thrown into the Cauldron: Kidnapping is described as a violent crime of taking away someone against their will, and normally involves holding them in false imprisonment or confining them against their will. Do you know what Cassian said of Nesta being thrown into the Cauldron? "I don't blame her," Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. "She was - violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her." Then she was kidnapped a second time (both times had her gagged and bound). Both Elain and Gwyn are victims of being held against their will and having their bodies violated. I realize that some don't relate to Elain's trauma because there is no cauldron in real life but there is kidnapping and having something done to you (regardless of there being a cauldron or not) that is against your will is a violation to your body. Gwyn's trauma was a sexual violation but it's still a violation to her person just as Elain's was. So I'm not sure why some E/riels are convinced that Elain would be fine being held down by someone when that could very well stir up memories of being held down then forced into the Cauldron which led to the loss of everything she loved while being certain that Gwyn wouldn't be alright with it. At the end of the day, we have no idea what preferences any of these characters have but I can guarantee that SJM is not going to write Az as being so insanely kinky that he can't respect the needs of his partner, that he can't be gentle for someone's first time after their trauma (if that's what they desire because again, maybe that's not what THEY want). I guarantee that SJM is not going to write either female as incapable of embracing her sexuality and exploring when it's with the right partner. There's a lot of ridiculous arguments in the fandom but claiming Elain is more suited to Az in bed than Gwyn would be is one of top ones. It's also hysterical how they'll use Gwyn's SA against her, claiming she could never be right for Az while ignoring how we're told cruelty bothers Elain then pairing her off with the IC's torturer who knows how to draw out his work in a "symphony of pain".

[separatist-apologist]

All the Arina art makes me so happy. They did such a good job with it. One day when I am confident enough I will get off anon and show you my eris Arina drawings cause they live in my head rent free and that's the only acotar related thing I can draw anymore.

Can u spoil some more of the amnesia fic any crumbs really for that matter it's been weeks but I am not over it 😭😭

Okay I found it, and turns out it actually does have a title. So I threw that whole little fit for nothing. I don't remember what I shared last time, and honestly I don't know why I'm sitting on this. It's done, just languishing.

TW for child loss beneath the cut

There she was, in that beautiful white dress. And Eris was smiling, broad and unrestrained, one hand on her hip, the other holding her hand. He certainly looked like a man in love. And she….she didn’t understand herself. What could Eris have said or done that ever would have changed her mind? 

“I don’t remember it,” Arina replied, tossing the phone back to Elain. She wanted to watch herself spin in circles all night, hoping something might come back. Clearly that memory wasn’t special, so why keep watching? Besides, Arina wasn’t convinced this wasn’t all some elaborate prank. It was exactly the kind of joke Lucien would have found funny once. 

She might have believed that theory more had Eris Vanserra not been wheeled up, his beautiful face bruised and swollen just the same as hers. She’d been fixated on his ringless hand and the tan line where it had once clearly sat. She had the ring he’d given her—broken and ruined in the wake of the crash. 

She believed they’d been together. Just like she believed he’d nearly died. Elain told him when she’d been pulled from the car, Eris’s arm had been flung against her chest, causing the break. He’d tried to protect her. 

It didn’t make sense. There was something she was missing beyond her memories. Some vital understanding, some puzzle piece that, even without her memories, if she had it, would make everything else make sense. 

“You will,” Elain said, just as she had been ever since Arina had broken down sobbing, flipping through her wedding album. How could she lose five years of her life. How could she forget the man she’d tied herself to, the dating, the engagement, the marriage? Beyond that, she’d missed her own life—a career, her best friend having children, moving from California up to New York. 

Half a decade, just erased.

That wasn’t counting the secret Arina was keeping, too scared to admit to Elain and certainly not to the dead-eyed Eris Vanserra. When she’d woken, she’d been alone. A nurse had been fiddling with her monitor, adjusting some medication hanging beside her bed. And when Arina, confused and aching and scared, had asked what had happened, the nurse had gone for a doctor.

She’d learned, then, that outside of the internal injuries they’d had to open her up to piece back together, that she’d lost a baby. And Arina, who couldn’t even remember wanting a child, or what man that life might have belonged to, had sealed away that information. 

Eris Vanserra’s child. Did he even want that baby? Had he been happy? Excited? Angry? Arina knew she couldn’t ask him, though she’d been so afraid he might ask her and she’d have to break the news that he’d lost more than just his wife in that accident.