#azriel x morrigans sister reader

[xreaderbooks]

Always (2)

Pair: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language (?) and angst

Summary: Y/n takes some time to reflect on the decision she needs to make and confronts Azriel.

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, I tagged those of you who asked for a part 2. Let me know what you think <3

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Part 1

You were gone. No one had heard from you for a whole 2 weeks and to say they were confused was an understatement. One second you were laughing along with them, wine drunk with Azriel by your side helping you stay steady enough to watch the stars fall, and the next you had given them no sign of life. Azriel could feel from the bond that you were in fact alive, you just needed your space and so that was what he told the others.

He left out the part that he had royally fucked up in his delivery but you hadn't given him the chance to explain himself, you had always known when something was wrong and as closed off as he might be, you were the only one who could read him like a book.

You closed yourself off in your apartment, and when you were in need of fresh air you went out for a walk by the sidra, you tried out new places that were opening up around Velaris. Everything and anything to keep your mind off of him no matter how much you needed to way out your options.

You were engaged. To Eris of all fae. Eris was your sister's fiancee once upon a time too, not that you wanted him in the first place. You couldn't help but think that Mor's tragic history was now your plot line.

You and Eris worked together to infiltrate Keir's secrets in the court of nightmares, your father trusted him and because you allowed yourself to be under his control, the result was your betrothal to the heir of the Autumn Court. It worked in everyone's favor, though when you had told the rest of your family it had not gone over so well. Mor couldn't be in the same room as you- much less you and Eris- for months.

Eventually, you had opened up on the advantages it would serve, Eris was already allied with the night court privately now no one in the court of nightmares could suspect your deception. It was a whole twisted mess of double-crossings.

You and Eris teamed up as a couple pretending to be spying on the inner circle and feeding false information to the enemy while in reality, you were spying on your father, giving Rhysand everything. It was enough to give you a headache. Now adding Azriel into the mix- Would ruin everything you worked so hard to build.

All these years of faking your loyalty and devotion to your father with everything he has done to you and your sister so that you can be the eyes and ears in places your high lord cannot, the one goal in your ruse was to be free of him without breaking what you built. Eris was the way to do that, he was technically on your side and you've spoken of the past, he was a handsome male that could please you just fine.

It didn't matter that he wasn't the one you wanted because, for all you knew at the time, the one you longed for's heart, beat for someone else.

You had never known Azriel to be selfish but lately, he had made it a new habit that you weren't so sure about. How dare he? How dare he do this to you!

The audacity of this man! Azriel would cost you everything and you would pay for it, willingly. He hadn't needed to speak for you to know what he wanted from you.

What you would have given to have him reach for you the way he did that night. The way you pined for him, in your 500 years of living your heart beat for no other male. Fae, Illyrian, both, human, even High Lord at one point. No one could compare to Azriel. Your mind, body, and soul were are his. However, it was time you gave up your unofficial claim on him he wasn't yours nor you his- or so you thought.

Nothing would become of this childish infatuation you grew accustomed to. And so you worked to keep your thoughts on your future without him, a future you knew where Azriel would find someone who would love him.

A century later and here you were, clutching your chest to keep from the panic crawling up your throat.

If only this had happened sooner-

Before it got so messy before you accepted Eris' proposal and appeared before your father claimed your hand. He so eagerly accepted, his hunger for power clear in his eyes, so blind for it that he's unaware of the upper hand you and your soon-to-be husband have.

If only he had loved you when you didn't have all these responsibilities that a relationship- mateship with him would tear down.

After a week of shutting yourself out, you spoke to Eris. He knew all about your feelings for Azriel and though he was jealous, you were his- at the time. When you told him you needed to speak to him he already knew. He gave you one last kiss before making a smartass remark about how he'd be there when you got bored.

You didn't know how you were going to deal with your father just yet but you would clean up one mess at a time.

Days later you finally gathered up the courage to speak to him. It was almost dusk when you had opened up the bond and willed him to come to you. The wind brought him to the middle of your sitting room within a minute.

His head was bent, he looked like a little boy who was caught in the pantry. You sighed and took his hand leading him to your couch and pushing down his broad shoulders for him to sit in the middle. His brows furrowed in confusion as you backed away and intertwined your fingers.

"I am going to talk and you are going to listen," Your eyes flickered between both of his hazel ones. "Got it?"

He nodded eagerly, though he wouldn't meet your gaze.

"I cannot accept the bond-" From your side of the link, you felt his heart clench, "Not yet at least. I need to know this is real Az."

You could tell he wanted to speak but you knew that he wouldn't, not until you've said your peace. Tears begin to well up at how hard it was to say this out loud, "I will always love you. More than you will ever know Azriel, but I will not be a replacement for all the women you could not have. For all, I've known you never showed the slightest bit of interest in me prior to Starfall. Now I'm going to ask you- and I want the truth Az- Do you want this?"

His eyes were glossed over as he looked up at you through his lashes, "Do you want me?" Your voice broke.

He stood from his place on your couch, sauntering over to you, and he reached a hand out. Fingertips softly brushed fallen strands of your hair from your face, behind your ear, tracing a finger from your ear to your jaw. Slowly and painfully he dragged his finger to the tip of your chin forcing your eyes to meet his and you are weak.

"I have been so blind Y/n," He whispers.

"That's not an answer," You shake your head, and he drops his hand. Your voice was like stone though your nerves were on fire, "Do you love me Azriel?"

"I love you, Y/n L/n."

You wanted so badly to believe him. The thought of the mating bond forcing him to make him feel this way made you sick. "What about Elain?"

Azriel winced but spoke cooly, "An infatuation that is over and done."

"And Mor?"

"I loved her," Your stomach turned. "But the love I had for her, in that way, is gone and it does not compare to how I feel for you. The bond does nothing but intensify the love I have for you, the love that I have hidden away long ago."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" You scoff. "You forget that I've been there Az, throughout everything. You are not shy with your love, I should know, I've seen the way you love."

He shakes his head in denial, "I love you Y/n."

"What happens if one day Mor decides she loves you?" Something you knew would never actually happen but you needed to know.

"I love you-"

"Azriel-"

"I love you."

You playfully push him away from you, "You can't keep saying that when you have nothing to back it up with." He takes a hold of your waist with one hand and grabs the back of your neck, attaching his lips to yours. He kisses you with an intensity you've never felt from any other male, you melt into the kiss wrapping your arm around his shoulder and running your hands through his hair. Your body was pressed against his, adding heat to a situation you weren't sure you wanted to add to. His lips were intoxicating, you didn't want to stop but your mind wouldn't stop thinking about all the unanswered questions.

You broke away from the kiss, pushing him an arm's length away. "You said I talked too much."

He barked out a laugh, "What?"

"You told me that a couple of years ago," He took a step toward you but your arm held strong.

"I love you Y/n."

"I snore-"

"No you don't," Azriel snorted and removed your hand from his shoulder, bringing you into him with an arm. He pressed kisses up and down your neck, "I thought you wanted me to prove my love and here you are trying to give me reasons not to love you."

Azriel added his tongue to his kisses and began to suck on one spot in particular that had your knees weak.

"You said it yourself that I'm too much for you."

He paused his attack on your neck holding your face in his large hands, "Because I love you and you deserve better. Besides, I've dealt with you for well over two centuries I think I can deal with you for the rest of my life."

"I need you to prove it."

"I'll prove it to you for as long as I live," Azriel bent his neck down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Taglist: @mulansaucey - @jadepearsonn - @benbarnes-supremacy - @seppys-return-to-madness - @azriel-luvr - @marina468 - @zealousballoonfox

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Masterlist

Eris x Azriel'sSister!Reader

read on ao3

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

cw: canon typical violence, mentions of child abuse and domestic abuse, beron🤮, mentions of whipping, mentions of reader being groomed in past relationship(though she was an adult), overprotective batboys, mentions of rhys being assaulted utm, just tw for amarantha in general

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark

Type: series

Part: 3/?

Other parts here

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron sister reader

Summary: That was not expected.

Four guards open my cell yet again and unshackle me, roughly grabbing me. one stands in front of us, one behind, and one holding each arm. I struggle in the males grips, my clothes are ripped to shreds, my hair is so matted you couldn’t brush it, blood and dirt cake my skin from various cuts and bruises and I’m thin, much thinner than I was, but I’d made sure to keep whatever muscle I could. As I’m brought to the so-called ‘king’s’ room, I notice Elain and Nesta, both are a bit thinner, then again they always were and more pale but I was glad to see they had very minimal damage other than Nesta matted hair. I look around the room as I’m pulled forward and completely freeze when I see it…them.

Feyre and Azriel…with a bolt through his chest… I’m shoved to the ground and take this as my moment, twisting around and kicking one of the guards in the shins, then sweeping another’s legs from under him, grabbing the sword one dropped and stabbing it through one of the others abdomen, then. Finally, I tackle the other to the ground, the blade lodging in his skull. I stand up, my breath fast and shallow and turn, looking from Nesta and Elain to Feyre and her friends, then finally my gaze lands on Hybern, who’s slowly applauding.

“That was quite the show darling.” I almost vomit at the way the last word rolls from his mouth, the only other times he’d used it were when- god I can’t even think about it as I make my way in front of my human sisters. I know the fae can handle themselves, my only concern about them is Azriel who is uncharacteristically pale, and hold the sword in front of me, my arm latching around them. “Start with her.” Before I know what’s happening four men pick me up, snapping the wrist that holds the sword and im forced to drop it.

“Get off me!” I scream and claw with my good hand as I’m brought up the stairs and forced into the cauldron, my head pops up until it’s held under. The sensation is weird… to say the least.

It’s cold yet hot, agonizing yet peaceful, it brings sadness and joy, light and dark, life and death, before I can think anymore wise opposites I’m thrown to the floor, an unknown weight sitting on my back as I splutter, lifting my head and seeing shocked faces. What- My thought is cut off by the sound of a thump and Nesta is thrown beside me, then Elain. I notice it now, they’re different- they have pointed ears, limbs longer- They are fae. What the hell?

I slowly stand on shaky feet, stomach cramping and nearly falling to my back just before I see Hyberm raising his hand and instinctively I do just as Cassian does-I jump. I throw myself over my newly fae sisters and white hot agony flows over the unknown weight on my back and I don’t even realize I’m screaming till it’s all over and I collapse to the side.

I look over to check on my sister when I see it-them. Wings, wings attached to my body that are shredded beyond belief, blood pooling around them. Wings- no I couldn’t-I couldn’t have wings. I hear people shouting my name and a cold sensation envelopes me before it all goes dark.

I groan as I’m jostled before I’m placed in a cot, back up, wings. Wings-holy shit. Draping over the edges, i loom to my right to see Azriel and Cassian in the cots beside me and a voice-a voice I’ve fantasized about yells for me, over and over, begging me to stay awake but it’s just too hard so I close my eyes and peace washes over me finally.

————

I know it’s short but I took medicine to sleep so I can’t write more tonight. I’ll give you more tomorrow. Love y’all!

@wallacewillow0773638

@pinksmellslikelove

@sassybluebird

@gorlillaglue25

@khaleesihavilliard

[fxckmiup]

𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

Chapters: {01 / ??}

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Arya Darling, The Princess of the Night Court. 

Arya Ashford, The chosen mother of the Archeron sisters. 

Both were created to be the Salvation of All.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

      » [ Nuvole Bianche ] «

     ⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Chapters: {01 / ??}

Disclaimer & Trigger Warnings

Prythian & The Lands

Seven Courts & High Lords

The Inner Circle

The Archeron's

Playlist

Prologue

01 , 02 , 03 , 04 , 05 ...

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

☾ 𝕐𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐫𝐞-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝔸��𝕐 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝕀 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝔸𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. ☽

Disclaimer: All characters and the storyline of the acotar characters belong to Sarah J Maas. My OC's (Arya and a few others) and their storyline/anything to do with her, belongs to me.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[a-court-of-mischief-and-madness]

Midnight revelations

Part 2-------Part 3

Summary: having a dream about Eris you are now conflicted on whether he is truly being honest or just playing with your feelings. The worst part is you can't believe why he would want you. Is it because of his father's orders to get closer to you and use you? Or is it because he is actually in love with you?

Note: sorry if this is too long 😭😭 but I promise good things await in the next chapter. So please enjoy!!

Warnings: slight smut! Mentions of kissing

As Eris’s lips claimed yours, the world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating heat between both of you. His kiss was a tempest, a blend of unrestrained hunger and deep-seated emotion, stirring something within you that you had long kept buried. He pulled you closer, his hands exploring your back with a possessive tenderness that sent shivers through your body.

The taste of him, a mix of fire and forbidden promise, sent your senses reeling. You responded with equal fervor, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Every brush of your lips against his , every flicker of your tongues, ignited a fire that burned away any lingering doubts or hesitations.

Eris’s hands, once gentle, became more urgent, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. His touch was a heady mix of demand and devotion, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you. The heat between them intensified, a magnetic pull that left you breathless and yearning for more.

With a sudden, possessive intensity, Eris’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. He kissed you harder, his lips and tongue demanding more, drawing a soft moan from your lips that seemed to inflame him further. The world narrowed to the sensation of his lips on yours, the press of his body against yours, the way his hands roamed, setting your skin aflame.

Your own hands moved to his chest, feeling the powerful beat of his heart echoing your own frenzied rhythm. You arched into him, the heat between you and him almost unbearable, every touch and kiss a blend of desperation and raw desire.

When you finally pulled apart, both breathless, the charged silence that followed was filled with unspoken words. Eris’s eyes bore into yours , dark and smoldering with a passion that sent a shiver down your spine. His thumb traced your swollen lips, a silent promise of the depth of his feelings.

“Eris...” your voice was a hushed whisper, filled with uncertainty and longing.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “This isn’t just a game to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I want to be different, for you. For us.”

As you woke up, a jolt shot through your body, leaving you breathless and disoriented. The intensity of the dream still clung to your senses, the phantom sensation of Eris's lips and touch lingering on your skin. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

You sat up abruptly, your hands clutching the thin blanket as if it could ground you in reality. The room was dimly lit, dawn's first light casting long shadows across the walls. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, anger, and an unsettling yearning that you couldn't shake off.

"No," you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling. "This can't be happening." You hated him. Eris had caused your cousin Mor so much pain, and the memories of those betrayals were still fresh and raw. The idea that you could feel anything but loathing for him was unfathomable, yet the dream had felt so real, so vivid. The intensity of your connection in the dream left you shaken to your core.

You pushed the covers aside and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, trying to dispel the lingering feelings of warmth and desire that made your skin prickle. You stood up, needing to move, needing to escape the remnants of the dream that clung to you like a second skin.

As you paced the room, your mind raced. How could your subconscious betray you like this? How could you dream of him with such intimacy when your waking thoughts were filled with anger and resentment?

Images of Mor's tear-streaked face and the stories of Eris's cruelty played in your mind, a stark contrast to the Eris in your dream who had shown vulnerability and passion. You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling up inside you. "This is just a dream," you reminded yourself, trying to steady your racing heart. "It doesn't mean anything."

But even as you said it, doubt gnawed at you. What if there was more to Eris than the monster you believed him to be? What if, despite everything, there was a part of you that was drawn to him, a part that saw the flicker of remorse and vulnerability in his eyes?

You shook your head vehemently, rejecting the thought. You couldn't afford to let your guard down, not after everything he had done. You had to protect yourself, protect Mor. The dream was nothing more than a cruel trick of your mind, a manifestation of conflicting emotions and unresolved tensions.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself. You had to focus, had to push aside the confusion and the unsettling warmth that lingered from the dream. There was too much at stake, and you couldn't let a dream cloud your judgment. A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts, your heart leaping into your throat. You turned towards the sound, trying to steady your breath and compose yourself. “Hey, you okay in there?” Rhysand’s voice came, laced with concern.

You took a deep breath, forcing the lingering images of the dream from your mind. “Yeah, just a minute,” you called back, trying to sound calm. You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, just enough to see your brother’s worried face. He was dressed in his usual morning attire, his hair still tousled from sleep.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. “I heard you moving around. It sounded like something was wrong.” You forced a smile, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. Just a nightmare.” His brow furrowed. “Must have been some nightmare to get you this worked up.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just one of those really vivid ones, you know? But I’m okay now. Promise.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “Alright. Just... if you need to talk about it, I’m here, okay?” “Thanks,” you said, genuinely touched by his concern. “I appreciate it.”

He gave you a reassuring smile before turning to leave. “Try to get some more rest if you can. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” You closed the door softly, leaning your back against it as you exhaled slowly. You appreciated Rhysand’s concern, but there was no way you could tell him about the dream, about the unsettling mix of desire and confusion that Eris had stirred within you.

As you walked back to your bed, your mind raced with conflicting thoughts. Rhysand hated Eris with a passion, and for good reason. The pain Eris had caused your cousin Mor was unforgivable, and you knew your brother’s feelings were rooted in a deep desire to protect your family.

But if Rhysand ever found out about the dream, about the way your emotions had been stirred, would he understand? Or would he see it as a betrayal, a sign that you weren’t as loyal to Mor’s memory as he was? The fear of being cast out, of straining your relationship with Mor and the rest of your family, weighed heavily on your mind.

You shook your head, trying to clear away the doubts. You couldn’t let a dream—no matter how vivid—dictate your feelings or your loyalty. You had to stay focused, to protect your family and shield them from any further pain.

--------------------------♧-------------------------------

Later that afternoon, after the unsettling dream and the brief interaction with Rhysand, you found yourself summoned to his office once more. Anxiety churned in your stomach as you made your way down the hall to his study. The door stood slightly ajar, and you knocked softly before entering.

Rhysand was already there, seated behind his desk, studying a map spread out before him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he looked up as you entered, his expression serious yet not unkind. "Come in," he said, gesturing for you to close the door behind you.

You did as he asked, crossing the room to stand before his desk. The tension in the air was palpable, and you struggled to meet his gaze. He folded his hands on top of the map, his eyes assessing you carefully.

"I need you to do something for me," Rhysand began, his voice low. "It involves the Autumn Court." Your heart skipped a beat. The Autumn Court, where Lucien resided—the brother of Eris. The thought made your stomach churn, but you knew better than to question Rhysand’s judgment. "What do you need me to do?" you asked, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

"I need you to go to the Autumn Court," Rhysand explained, his tone grave. "Lucien has contacts and information that could be valuable to us. I need you to gather whatever intelligence you can, discreetly." You nodded, already beginning to process the implications. "And Azriel?" you asked, glancing towards the doorway where the shadows seemed to move on their own. Rhysand’s expression softened marginally. "Azriel will accompany you," he confirmed. "He’ll ensure your safety and provide backup if needed."

Relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by concern. "Do you think they’ll cooperate?" you asked, your thoughts drifting to Lucien and the complicated dynamics of the Autumn Court. Rhysand sighed, his shoulders tense. "Lucien owes me a debt," he said cryptically. "He won’t refuse, not when I ask."

You nodded again, understanding the weight of Rhysand’s words. Loyalty and debts ran deep in the courts, and the Autumn Court was no exception. "When do we leave?" you asked, your mind already racing with preparations.

"Today," Rhysand replied, his voice firm. "Azriel will meet you here shortly. Make sure you’re ready." You nodded once more, your mind already planning the journey ahead. There were risks, you knew, but gathering information for the Night Court was your duty. You would do whatever it took to protect your family and serve your court. "Thank you, Rhysand," you said sincerely, meeting his gaze. "I won’t let you down." He nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I know you won’t," he said quietly. "Now go, get some rest. You have a long journey ahead of you."

With that dismissal, you left Rhysand’s office and returned to your quarters. The afternoon passed in a blur of packing and preparation, your thoughts still haunted by the dream and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As dusk fell and exhaustion finally caught up with you, you stood by the window, waiting. Azriel arrived as promised, his presence a comforting reassurance in the face of the daunting task ahead.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

You nodded, a mix of determination and apprehension coursing through you. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

Azriel's hand closed around yours, his touch both reassuring and grounding as he prepared to winnow you away. His wings unfurled, casting a shadow over the room, and in the blink of an eye, you were surrounded by the beauty of the Autumn Court.

The air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of falling leaves and the distant murmur of the court. The landscape was a riot of color, with trees ablaze in hues of red, orange, and gold, and the ground covered in a carpet of fallen leaves that crunched softly underfoot. The Autumn Court was known for its breathtaking beauty, and you couldn't help but be captivated by the serene yet vibrant atmosphere.

As you stepped towards the gates, Azriel beside you, a guard approached, his armor gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. He raised a hand to stop you, his expression stern.

"Only one person is allowed to enter," the guard stated firmly, his eyes flickering between you and Azriel.

Azriel's jaw clenched, his wings rustling in frustration. "She's under my protection," he insisted, his voice edged with irritation.

You placed a calming hand on Azriel's arm, meeting the guard's gaze with determination. "It's alright, Azriel," you said softly. "I'll be fine."

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his concern evident. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'll gather the information Rhysand needs and return safely. Don't worry about me."

Azriel hesitated for a moment, clearly torn, before he reluctantly nodded. "Alright," he said, his tone still tense. "But be careful. Call for me if you need anything."

"I will," you promised, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing it.

---------------------------♧-------------------------------

As you ventured deeper into the heart of the Autumn Court, the beauty of the surroundings didn't distract you from your mission. The air was crisp with the scent of autumn, and the colors of the foliage around you were a striking contrast against the darkening sky. The court was quieter than you expected, the sound of your footsteps echoing faintly as you walked towards Lucien's quarters.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by Lucien himself, his golden eyes assessing you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. His handsome features were set in a neutral expression, but you could sense the tension in the air. "Rhysand sent you?" Lucien asked, his voice polite but guarded.

You nodded, keeping your tone respectful. "Yes, he did. I'm here to gather some information for him." Lucien's expression softened marginally. "I'm sorry for what happened to mor," he said sincerely. "Eris... he regrets what he did."

You stiffened at the mention of Eris, your emotions conflicting. "That doesn't change what he did," you replied, your voice firm.

Lucien nodded, seeming to understand. "Of course. I won't pretend to understand your feelings, but I know Eris. He's... complicated."

You didn't respond, unsure of what to say. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, collecting the documents and information Rhysand needed. Lucien provided what he could, and after a brief conversation, you bid him farewell and made your way back towards the exit. However, as you navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Autumn Court, you took a wrong turn and found yourself in an unfamiliar part of the palace. Frustration welled up inside you as you tried to retrace your steps, but the twisting halls seemed to lead you further away from the exit.

Finally, you turned a corner and came face to face with Eris. He was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach.

"Well, well," Eris said softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "What brings you to this part of the court, little Night Court spy?"

You clenched your jaw, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm not here to play games, Eris. Just let me pass."

Eris straightened up, blocking your path. "Why so hostile, darling? We both know there's something between us."

You scoffed, your frustration boiling over. "Don't flatter yourself, Eris. There's nothing between us."

Eris's smile widened, his gaze searching yours. "Is that so? I felt it in your dreams, you know. The way you responded to me."

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing. How could he know about your dreams?

Eris took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "Admit it," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You feel it too."

You shook your head, trying to deny the undeniable pull he had over you. "This changes nothing," you insisted, your voice wavering.

Eris's expression softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "Maybe not now," he conceded. "But someday..."

Before you could respond, Azriel's voice echoed down the corridor. "There you are," he said, his tone sharp with concern as he approached.

Eris stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours. "Until next time," he said quietly, his words hanging in the air.

You tore your gaze away from Eris, focusing on Azriel, not caring how he managed to get in as he reached your side. Relief flooded through you, grateful for his timely arrival.

"Let's go," Azriel said tersely, his hand on your back as he guided you away from Eris and towards the exit.

As you walked away, the encounter with Eris left you shaken. The intensity of your emotions, the undeniable attraction and the anger, all swirled inside you. You knew this wasn't over, that Eris would continue to haunt your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to push him away.

But for now, you had a mission to complete. With Azriel at your side, you returned to the Night Court, the weight of the information you had gathered heavy on your shoulders. The journey back was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts, but you knew that the repercussions of your encounter with Eris were far from over.

----------------------------♧-----------------------------

As night fell, the Night Court's inner circle gathered for dinner in the grand hall of the House of Wind. The atmosphere was usually lively and warm, filled with banter and laughter, but tonight there was an unspoken tension in the air.

Feyre and Rhysand sat at the head of the table, their presence commanding yet welcoming. To their right were Mor and Azriel, engaged in a quiet conversation. On the other side, Amren and Nesta shared a private joke, their laughter low and conspiratorial. Cassian sat beside Nesta, his eyes occasionally drifting to you, a look of concern etched on his face. Elain, Nesta's sister, and the newest member of the inner circle, sat quietly beside Feyre, her presence gentle and serene.

The meal proceeded with the usual fare—exquisite dishes that reflected the skill of the Night Court's chefs. Conversation flowed around the table, topics ranging from recent political developments to light-hearted gossip. However, amidst the chatter, Mor couldn't help but notice that you were unusually silent.

"Hey," Mor said gently, her voice cutting through the din. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?"

You looked up, meeting Mor's concerned gaze. "Yeah, just tired," you replied with a forced smile, hoping to brush off her concern.

Mor frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in worry. "Are you sure? You seem... off."

Amren, who was sitting nearby, glanced over with a sharp gaze, her interest piqued. Nesta, too, watched you carefully, her expression guarded yet curious.

"I'm fine, really," you insisted, trying to sound more convincing this time.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her voice cool and measured. "Tired? You've seemed distracted all day."

You sighed inwardly, knowing that Nesta and Amren were not easily fooled. "Just a lot on my mind," you admitted reluctantly, feeling a pang of guilt for not confiding in them.

Amren leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Before you could respond, Cassian interjected, his voice tinged with concern. "If something's bothering you, you know you can talk to us."

You glanced around the table, feeling the weight of their concern and the warmth of their support. "It's nothing, really," you said softly, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Mor reached out, squeezing your hand gently. "We're here for you, you know that," she said sincerely, her eyes soft with empathy.

You managed a grateful smile, touched by their kindness. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the dinner continued with lighter conversation, but the concern of the inner circle lingered in the air. You knew you couldn't keep them in the dark forever, but for now, you were grateful for their understanding and their willingness to give you space.

----------------------------♧-----------------------------

Later that night, after dinner had ended and the others had retired to their rooms, you found yourself staring out of the window in your chamber, thoughts swirling tumultuously in your mind. The events of the day, particularly the encounter with Eris in the Autumn Court, weighed heavily on your heart. A soft knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see Nesta standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable. There was a rare softness in her eyes, a concern that made you realize she knew something was wrong.

Without a word, Nesta entered your room and closed the door behind her. She approached you slowly, her steps measured and deliberate. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to confide in her. But seeing the understanding and support in her eyes, you found yourself nodding slightly. "I... I'm not sure," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nesta sat down beside you on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on yours. "What happened?" she asked gently, her hand reaching out to rest on yours.

Taking a deep breath, you recounted the events of the day—the encounter with Eris in the Autumn Court, his teasing words, and the unsettling dreams that had haunted you. You told her about the confusing mix of emotions you felt, the anger towards Eris for what he had done to Mor, and the undeniable attraction that both scared and intrigued you. Nesta listened quietly, her expression grave as she took in your words. When you finished, there was a long moment of silence between you. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft yet firm. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you," Nesta said, her hand tightening around yours. "But I'm glad you told me."

You looked at her, feeling a surge of gratitude for her understanding. "I didn't know who else to turn to," you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.

Nesta squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You don't have to go through this alone," she said firmly. "I'm here for you, always."

Tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by her kindness and support. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

Nesta pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close. "I promise," she murmured into your hair, "I won't tell anyone. This stays between us."

After Nesta comforted you, she gently pulled away and stood up, looking at you with a determined expression. "Come on," she said softly, offering you a hand. "Let's get you something to drink."

As Nesta poured the drinks, her movements were confident and purposeful, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "Here you go," she said, handing you a glass with a playful smirk. "Liquid courage for the soul."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her boldness, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support. "Thanks, Nesta," you replied, raising your glass in a toast.

"To living life on the edge," Nesta declared with a grin, clinking her glass against yours before taking a sip.

As the night progressed and you and Nesta continued to share stories over drinks, the conversation eventually turned to a more serious topic. Nesta, always direct and perceptive, looked at you thoughtfully before asking, "Do you have feelings for him?"

You nearly choked on your drink, surprised by the bluntness of her question. "What? No," you replied quickly, a bit too quickly perhaps, as you tried to dismiss the thought.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice gentle yet probing. "I've seen the way you look at him."

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. "Maybe... maybe there's a little attraction," you admitted reluctantly. "But it's complicated. I don't trust him." Nesta nodded slowly, understanding evident in her eyes. "That's wise," she agreed quietly. "He's not exactly known for his trustworthiness."

You took a deep breath, the weight of your thoughts heavy on your mind. "Do you think he's playing me?" you asked hesitantly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Nesta's expression turned serious as she considered your question. "It's possible," she said slowly. "Eris always has a plan, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. You might be a part of that plan, whether you realize it or not."

Your heart sank at her words, the truth of them hitting you hard. "I don't want to be used," you admitted quietly, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. Nesta reached out and squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You won't be," she said firmly. "We'll make sure of that."

You nodded gratefully, appreciating her support more than words could express. "Thank you, Nesta," you murmured, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

As you and Nesta continued your conversation, the atmosphere lightened, and you found yourself laughing at one of Nesta's witty anecdotes. Yet, the topic returned to Eris, and Nesta's next question caught you off guard.

"Do you think Eris is your mate?" Nesta asked, her tone serious and concerned.

You froze, the question striking you like a bolt of lightning. "What? No," you blurted out, feeling a mix of shock and denial. "I haven't felt anything... like that."

Nesta studied you intently, her expression softening with understanding. "Good," she said quietly, her voice filled with relief. "I worry about you, you know? I don't want you to have a similar fate to Mor."

Your heart ached at the mention of Mor, knowing the pain she had endured. "I won't," you assured Nesta, your voice firm. "I promise I'll be careful."

Nesta nodded, her eyes searching yours. "I know you will," she said sincerely. "Just... be cautious. Don't let your guard down, especially around him."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for Nesta's concern and wisdom. "Thank you," you murmured, touched by her protective nature.

"That's what sisters are for," Nesta replied softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

Taglist: @sunny1616 @blackgirlmagicforever

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

chapter two

masterlist - previous chapter - next chapter

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: none

enjoy! <3

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" The young Fae asked exasperatedly. By now they had both lost count of the days, impossible to keep track without the sun or a watch. 

Selaene was furious: not only had Vanessa driven her away from the place where she had fallen, causing her to miss the chance to find the rift between the two worlds from which she herself had passed, but she also continued to remain silent and explain nothing to her. 

She reminded her of her brother. The one who wanted to protect her by not telling her things. She used to get angry, but she understood him and the thing ended in a hug and an explanation. She wonders if Vanessa also keeps her mouth shut to protect her from whatever they are waiting for, or to protect her heart from vain hope.

"The necessary." The tiger answers annoyed, also exasperated by all the times she has been asked the same question and accusation by the Fae. Vanessa cannot see Selaene's eyes, but she is certain she is rolling them up to the sky at the moment. Or to the darkness. She wonders what color her eyes are. She shrugs her shoulders, as much as that form allows her to. She should just have faith, thinks the white-coated female, some trust, since they are both stuck in the same situation.

Vanessa had heard her that night. She had awakened with the sound in the inevitably younger Fae's stifled sobs, but had kept her breath controlled by giving her her space. She too had initially reacted that way, if not worse, and she understood Selaene's anger very well. And she thought she understood her as well, given the similarity of their fates, but instead she had created a wall around her and her thoughts and shut the tiger out. She does not know what is worse: to be alone with her own thoughts or to be in the company of a stranger who is so selfish. She wants to leave as much as the Fae does, so why so much distrust and meanness toward her?

Selaene on the other hand had no other choice: the wound left where the bond once was, the emptiness...the silence between the two mates and everything around them was too strong and was driving her crazy.

More days pass, by the Fae's reckoning.

Days in which the same conversation happened over and over again, in which the silence was ripping her ears and the darkness was tearing her eyes. If she wasn't staring above her, staring at nothingness, she was asleep. At first she was hopeful that sleep would help her, that it would help close the bleeding wound in her heart, but her sleep was as dark as where she was and offered her no comfort except freedom from her thoughts. Which was still better than having to hear them. Maybe, she thought, it was even better than dreaming about her family, her old life, so she wouldn't have to deal with reality once she woke up. 

But-sometimes it happened that she and her brothers, or she and her mate communicated through dreams. She does not tell the tiger, but nothing has appeared yet, and she doubts it will ever happen. She is more likely to be able to warn the three males with her mind than whatever the other female has in mind. Although she can sense it, from the tone and how stubborn Vanessa is remaining, how much the tiger cares. 

And that is why she will never do her such a tort: force her to leave with her to go back to where she came from. She will go alone instead. Seven days of walking and she will be back under the Illyrian Steppes. 

She knows Vanessa is sleeping, and it is just now that she gets up and with a sigh-the only sound she has allowed herself to let escape-she leaves.

"Selaene?" 

Doesn't she ever sleep?

Obviously, the Fae thinks bitterly, she can't have a second of peace; she can't even leave without the tiger getting in the way.

Selaene thinks of an answer so vulgar that it makes herself blush, the kind her brothers and her mate often exchanged, and she would have even said it except that lightning-no, not lightning, someone, rips through the sky of the UnderWorld. A light illuminates the void and the figure of a man appears for less than a second. 

Around her, however, there is nothing. 

Absolute emptiness.

Vanessa's laughter, which the Fae managed to see for that instant when that kind of lightning radiated the place, echoes joyously everywhere. It didn't last long, just long enough for that someone to step into the UnderWorld to get to his destination, but for Selaene everything changes. She too laughs with the tiger, a rich giggle that leaves her with a happy aftertaste.

"I told you so!" The tiger exclaims joyfully. Now, she can finally put a face to that voice.

"It's beautiful." Says the Fae still amazed. She will never admit it out loud, but Vanessa was right: a small spark ignites in her heart, and maybe, she allows herself to think just for a moment, maybe there is a way.

The tiger speaks again. 

They exchanged more words now than in all the time they had been there waiting. "While I was here, I thought that if we can grab someone, wherever they are going, they can get us back to the world above."

"And how long will that take?"

"It will take as long as it takes." 

In spite of the tiger's usual vague words, Selaene could not bring herself to get angry, not when such an opportunity was offered in front of her. She was right about one thing, however: Vanessa and Rhysand are more alike than expected. Her brother would have done the same, told her nothing so as not to create false hope and waited to show her the facts. To protect her, to protect her very delicate heart. 

Perhaps Mother took away a brother to give her a sister.

Now all they have to do is sit and wait for the moment when they and someone above are lined up so they can hold on and be taken out. 

masterlist - previous chapter - next chapter

[ellievickstar]

Friendly Monster (Azriel x Reader)

A/N: I love procrastination and I refuse to stop generating new ideas and going back to this one, let’s please my intrusive thoughts and make a fic based on my impulsive idea so this is Day 1 of my 300 followers week! 

Summary: An ACOTAR one shot that paints the life of Rhysan’s youngest sister.

Inspired by: Nothing I ended up scrapping the original inspiration

Request: N/A

Warnings: Angst, Beron Vanserra, Amarantha, mentions of Rhys’s trauma from under the mountain. Mentions of rape.  

~*~*~*~*~

Growing up with Rhysand and Cassian was a pain. You spent your time with Morrigan in the court of nightmares but when your brother and his friend visited, or vice versa, they were assholes. Rhys and Cassian were like any other pair of reckless, stupid, ignorant illyrian boys, even with hard training, they were still cocky and had egos the size of the entirety of Prythian. 

They constantly pushed and prodded at your buttons, you were frustrated with the constantly, however, you were never furious with them. Not even when Cassian slept with Mor. The one time you were truly furious with them was when they were making fun of Azriel for not being able to fly. 

Something about their lack of sympathy ticked you off, the scars of Azriel’s hands were a good indication of his situation before the Illyrian camps. You berated Rhysand whenever he laughed at Azriel’s meek attempts at flying and told them off constantly. 

And that was somehow home. 

During the war, you were kept away from prying eyes and Amarantha somehow never got wind of you. You never followed you older sister and mother to the Illyrian camps because you had been busy sorting out some issues with Keir with your father, something you would always regret. 

When they were slaughtered you were devastated and fell deeply sick, by the time you recovered you were fatherless and your only living relatives were Morrigan and Rhys. You sobbed into you brother’s arms as you grieved over the lost of your father, even though he was still emotionally abusive. 

You were so much younger then Rhys and that reality hit you hard as you witnessed your brother harden his demeanour in front of your eyes, in front of others he became cold and distant. In a way, you also mourned the loss of your brother. 

That’s when the day of Rhysand’s party he threw for Amarantha came. 

Your first mistake was following Rhysand to that party. 

Your second mistake was not running. 

You last mistake was coming out of hiding. 

You screamed when you realised that Amarantha had taken control of your brother. Amarantha giggled and the sound made you want to throw up. You reached out to your brother’s mind, devastated as you realised that Amarantha had made him shut you out. 

He glanced at you once, the mask he wore cracking as he seemed to try to communicate the words that he would never be able to openly express for th next fifty years. I’m sorry. 

Tears streamed down your face as you watched your brother change again, as he became the swaggering, arrogant, loyal servant to the one woman you begun to despise. You watched for fifty years as she dragged him to her bedroom and used him in ways that you couldn’t begin to imagine. Every Starfall you were forced to entertain Amarantha’s goons, every Starfall another heart break, and maybe that changed you too. 

The worse was when you were gifted to the oldest son of the Autumn Court one night when Rhysand broke the rules. You whipped your head to your brother as you were dragged away by Eris, you screamed and screamed, pleading for him to do something, but he stayed rooted to the ground and watched. 

You remembered the fear that overwhelmed you as Eris snarled at you to shut up. You remember the opening of the door as you were lifted bridal style once you calmed down. You remember that he told you to start screaming and crying again. You remember screaming your throat raw until you felt like you were going to pass out. You remember the feeling of arms wrapping around you as you were placed into a warm bath. You remember Eris murmuring in your ear, trying to comfort you. You remember falling asleep. 

It was only at the end of those fifty years were you able to explain everything to Rhysand, he thanked Eris in private and you hugged the red-headed male who had grown to love you like a brother as well. He made you swear to tell him if anyone hurt you so he could burn them alive himself. That made you laugh, but you weren’t sure if he was serious. 

You stayed under the mountain as you ensured that everyone could leave. That was when Tarquin approached you. 

“I know your not that much older then me, any tips to get all the old bastard’s respects,” He tried. You were startled at the words he used, breaking into a smile as you began to share some of your experiences with the High Lords. How you visited Kallias after the attack and made sure that he understood that it was Amarantha’s fault, how you protected Thesan’s lover when Amarantha tried to ask why he never slept with any women — though it may have also been because he wasn’t attracted t any of them — you even shared how Eris helped you all those years ago. 

Tarquin listened intently to your stories before you finally bid him goodbye and winnowed to the moonstone palace. There, you found Rhys on the floor having a full blown freak out while Mor was trying to comfort him without laughing. 

You soon understood the situation, you wanted to smack Rhys’s head when you found out about the bargain, and you wanted to throttle him for deciding that he would not tell Feyre about the bond. After his — comical to say the least— freak out, you winnowed to the House of Wind and was immediately greeted with huge arms wrapping around you as you were spun around. Cassian cheered as he practically shouted to the whole of Velaris that you had returned home. 

Azriel smiled and you opened your arms, he rolled his eyes as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you shrieked, pounding on his back while Rhys just pointed a certain finger st you when you cussed at him when he refused to help you. 

When Azriel finally put you down, you spent the rest of the night with your family, sharing the time under the mountain. Though it wasn’t great, you all cried together and that was important. Mor was astounded to hear of Eris’s change of character and considered that maybe the bastard could change after all. 

Once everyone was tired, you waved goodbye to everyone as they retired to their rooms for the night. You helped Nuala and Cerridwen and bid them good night before approaching Azriel’s room. 

Pushing the door open, you were met with Azriel’s hazel eyes as he closed the door. You sighed as you collapsed, tired, into his arms and he held you quietly against his warm body. You sighed, content to stay there the rest of the night. 

“Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,” Azriel suddenly said. You looked up and realised that you had been screaming your thoughts down the bond. “We found out just before I went under the mountain, give him some time to adjust the the good things then we’ll tell him after I finally accept the bond,” You said simply. 

And there was your secret. Azriel was your mate. You had found out a few days before Rhys’s party, you had planned on accepting the bond, but you never had the chance to. You had wondered if Azriel had waited for you, if he would have moved on… 

Azriel rubbed a thumb against you palm, snapping you out of your thoughts, mumbling that your think too much. 

“I could never replace you, you would be the only one who could love a monster like me,” He grumbled and shifted you to lie down next to him as he snaked an arm around your abdomen. Though he had said that in good light, you knew that deep down he meant it. Your heart broke a little and you turned to face him. 

“You might think that your a monster, but you’re mine,” You hummed as you traced circles against his cheek. “My friendly monster,” You giggled and he chuckled. The sound reverberated against the walls of the room, and everything seemed to finally be at peace. 

~*~*~*~*~ Taglist: ask me if you want to be tagged! tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @hideing@flightlesslittlebirdie  @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123  @gigisssz  @cityofidek  @aetherl0l @judig92

[soulofapatrick]

Snap into place - Azriel x female reader

Summary: You meet Azriel and the mate bond snaps into place

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: None really; heated make out session

Notes; debating on a smutty part two...

Y/N's POV

I land softly in the grand dining room of the House of Wind, the air thick with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet. Rhysand’s arms release me gently, and I steady myself on my feet, my heart racing from the exhilaration of flying through the skies of Velaris. The room is filled with soft, glowing light, casting an inviting warmth over the beautifully arranged table. A high ceiling adorned with intricate carvings seems to echo with laughter and conversation.

Before I can take in my surroundings fully, a stunning figure catches my eye. A woman with long, flowing blonde hair and striking features stands nearby, wearing a form-fitting red dress that barely conceals anything in the front. It clings to her curves, exuding confidence and allure.

“Ah, my cousin,” Rhysand announces, his voice filled with warmth. “This is Morrigan—though everyone just calls her Mor.”

Before I can respond, Mor crosses the room in a heartbeat, pulling me into a fierce hug. Her laughter is bright and infectious. “Welcome! I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaims, her voice a melodic blend of mischief and sincerity. I feel an instant warmth in her embrace, a sense of belonging I didn’t expect.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as she releases me, taking a step back with a bright smile that makes her appear even more radiant.

Feyre steps forward, her expression friendly and open. “Let me introduce you to my sisters,” she says, guiding me toward a small group nearby.

Nesta stands with her arms crossed, an aura of guardedness surrounding her. She meets my gaze with a sharp look, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. “You’re Rhysand’s guest?” she asks, her tone skeptical.

“Yes,” I reply, trying to match her intensity with a friendly smile.

Elain, their sister, smiles softly at me. She has an ethereal quality, with gentle features that instantly make me feel at ease. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she says sweetly, her voice warm and inviting. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

I nod, feeling a flicker of appreciation for her kindness.

Cassian stands next to Nesta, his muscular frame radiating strength and energy. He grins widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just don’t let her intimidate you,” he teases, motioning toward Nesta. “She’s really just a big softie at heart.”

“Hardly,” Nesta retorts, rolling her eyes but the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

As they all welcome me, I feel a tug in my chest, an inexplicable pull that draws my attention across the room. I turn my head, and my breath catches in my throat. Another Illyrian soldier stands there, much like Cassian but not. His arms are crossed over his toned chest, looking out the large windows at the stars. His dark hair catches the light, and there’s an air of quiet strength about him. He seems lost in thought, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

“Azriel,” Rhys speaks to his friend, his tone light but expectant. “Won’t you greet our guest?”

Azriel turns slowly toward me, and I find myself momentarily entranced. He is classically beautiful, though nearly unreadable, an enigma wrapped in shadows. He stands tall, his dark hair tousled and framing his face perfectly. Golden-brown skin gleams softly in the warm light, and his massive Illyrian wings are folded elegantly behind him, giving him an imposing yet graceful presence. The planes of his face are striking—high cheekbones, a strong jawline—carved by years of rigorous training. His hazel eyes, a blend of green and gold, hold a depth that makes my breath catch.

As our eyes lock, that tugging sensation in my chest intensifies, pulling me closer to him, and then—snap. It’s as if an invisible bond has snapped into place, an undeniable connection that leaves me momentarily off-balance. I stumble, my breath hitching, and I reach out instinctively for support.

Rhysand’s violet eyes widen with concern as he steps closer, his hand steadying me. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

I nod quickly, but my attention is drawn back to Azriel, who steps toward me in large, graceful strides, closing the distance between us with an effortless fluidity that only heightens the charged atmosphere.

He reaches out, taking my right hand in his scarred one, the warmth of his touch igniting a thousand sensations within me. Then, with a deep bow, he bends slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice low and velvety, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

At his touch, a wave of emotions floods through me. I can feel everything he feels—an undercurrent of fear at this unexpected connection, a deep anticipation for my response, and there, beneath it all, an undeniable want and lust that makes my cheeks heat with embarrassment. It’s as if our souls are whispering secrets to one another, threading together in an intricate dance of intimacy and longing.

I try to pull my hand back, overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions coursing through the bond, but he holds my gaze, and I find myself rooted to the spot, caught in the depths of his hazel eyes. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves me breathless and wanting more.

I glance down at Azriel’s scarred hands, tracing my thumb along the rough texture of his skin. The warmth of his touch sends a soft shudder through him, and I feel it travel down the bond between us—a wave of heat that washes over me, igniting something deep within. It’s an intimate gesture, one that feels both innocent and charged with unspoken promises.

But suddenly, I feel something else—claws prying at the edges of my mind, a persistent probing that sends a shiver down my spine. I snap my head to the side, my eyes landing on Rhys and Feyre. Rhys stands with his head tilted slightly, a focused expression on his face as he tries to break through my mental shields, searching for what I’m thinking and sensing what’s happening between Azriel and me.

“Rhys!” I snap, my voice sharper than intended. “Get out of my head!”

His bright violet eyes widen in surprise, but there’s no malice behind his glare—just concern and curiosity.

I squeeze Azriel’s hand slightly, seeking comfort in his presence as I feel the bond shift, allowing a flicker of privacy to return. With a subtle sigh, Azriel finally lets me go, his grip loosening but the warmth lingering on my skin.

With the weight of too many eyes on me, I feel exposed and overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of it all. I take a step back, my heart racing. “I need some air,” I manage to say, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. Without waiting for a response, I move toward the balcony, seeking solace in the open air. The stars shimmer above me, bright and unyielding against the velvet backdrop of the night sky. The cool breeze nips at my skin, sending a shiver through me, and I realize with a pang that I shouldn’t have let Feyre dress me up so much; the delicate fabric feels too thin against the chill.

I take a deep breath, looking up at the stars, trying to quell the turmoil in my head. They are more beautiful than I ever imagined, each twinkling light a reminder of the vastness of the world beyond this moment. The Night Court is far more peaceful than anyone ever says it is, a soothing embrace of tranquility that wraps around me, lulling my racing heart.

But then, just as I begin to gather my thoughts, I feel the presence behind me. Scarred hands rest on the balcony railing between mine, and a solid body presses against me, immediately calming the raging thoughts and anxiety within me. It’s as if now that Azriel has been found as my mate, he can calm me with just a touch. My parents always told me stories about mates, about how their presence could soothe even the most tumultuous of storms.

Suddenly, I’m no longer cold. The heat radiating from him envelops me, grounding me in the moment. I seem to fall back against him instinctively, feeling the solid strength of his body as he envelops me in a comforting warmth. I breathe him in—the scent of dark wood, cool night air, and something uniquely him that sends my heart racing anew.

I take a deep breath, letting my eyes slide shut as the back of my head rests against his shoulder, feeling his presence wrap around me like a protective shroud. I can’t help but open my mind to him, allowing our connection to deepen. I show him every thought I’ve ever had about mates—the way my parents were so perfectly entwined, the love that seemed to glow around them like a beacon. I share my awe from moments ago, the overwhelming rush of emotions when our eyes first met.

I can feel him absorbing my thoughts, understanding the weight of them as they flit through our bond like soft whispers. And as I let go of my worries and fears, I realise that in this moment, with Azriel, everything feels right. The bond between us is no longer just a connection; it is a sanctuary.

When I finally open my eyes, I realize it’s not just Azriel’s presence wrapping around me but his massive wings have unfurled, forming a dark cocoon around us. They block out the view of the dining room and the curious gazes of the others, creating a sanctuary that offers me the privacy I’ve always craved, especially in gatherings like this one. I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and now, in this moment, I’m grateful for his instinct to shield us.

His wings are magnificent—dark and leathery, reminiscent of a bat’s, stretching wide to envelop us in shadow. The texture is smooth yet powerful, each wingbone prominent and elegant. I slowly turn to face him, our bodies close but still connected through the warmth of his wings. His arms remain on the balcony railing, and the soft look on his face takes my breath away. There’s something in his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and fierce desire, that makes my heart race.

I reach out tentatively, fingers brushing against one of his wings. At my touch, he lets out a breathy sound, a mixture of surprise and something deeper. A surge of sexual want travels straight through the bond between us, igniting every nerve ending in my body and leaving me breathless.

Azriel’s hazel eyes flutter open a moment later, the warm color gone so dark they’re almost black, filled with an intensity that makes me shiver. His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, the words rolling off his tongue like a whispered secret. “I need to kiss you.” There’s a desperation in his tone, almost like a plea, and my hands instinctively reach up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

In that moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of us in our private world. His hands finally move, wrapping around me with a possessive tenderness that makes my heart leap. He pulls me closer, pressing my hips into the balcony railing, creating an exhilarating friction between us. One hand weaves into my hair, the other slips to my thigh, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his waist as if to draw me even nearer.

And then, as if the world outside has disappeared, he dives down and kisses me like I’m the oxygen he needs to breathe. His lips are soft yet insistent, sending sparks of electricity through my body. The taste of him is intoxicating—warm and rich, like dark chocolate laced with a hint of something sweet. With every brush of his mouth against mine, I feel my heart race, igniting a fire within me that spreads from my chest to my fingertips, making me dizzy with desire.

I can’t seem to get enough of him. My hands instinctively roam over the contours of his back, searching for a break in his Illyrian armor, eager to find hot, bare golden skin beneath. I’m met only with cool metal and the hard lines of his physique, a growl of frustration escaping me when I can’t reach my destination. The sound draws a deep chuckle from him, vibrating through our connection and sending shivers down my spine.

As we pull apart just enough for him to speak, I’m breathless. “I have waited hundreds of years for you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion and longing. The weight of those words settles over us, filled with the gravity of a bond forged over lifetimes.

Before I can process what he means, he surges forward again, crashing his mouth against mine with a heat and passion that sends my mind reeling. I feel every dip and curve of his body pressed against mine, the solid strength of him overwhelming me in the best way possible. I don’t care how hard the railing is digging into my back; everything Azriel is consuming me, and I want him—no, I need him—right here and right now.

A low sound of agreement rumbles in his chest, deep and resonant, making my insides flutter with excitement. But just as I lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, a sudden clearing of the throat outside our cocoon of wings startles me, and I yelp with fear, pulling back from the kiss.

“Darlings!” comes the voice, sickly sweet and teasing. Rhys’. “As hot and amusing as this is, please do whatever this is somewhere else where your mental shields won’t go down and blast unwanted thoughts my way.”

I glance over at Rhysand, who stands just outside the shadow of Azriel’s wings, a smirk playing on his lips. His violet eyes dance with mischief as he takes in the scene, clearly amused by our moment. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, my heart still racing from both the kiss and the unexpected interruption.

Azriel's presence remains a steady anchor behind me, the heat radiating from his body enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Despite Rhys's teasing, I can’t shake the feeling of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Without breaking the intense gaze between us, Azriel flips Rhys the bird over his shoulder, a smirk dancing on his lips. It’s a surprisingly playful gesture from someone as serious as him, and it sends a flutter of laughter through me, lightening the tension in the air.

Then, with a sudden and fluid motion, he scoops me up in his arms, mirroring how Rhysand had carried me here. The world shifts around us as he cradles me against his chest, his hold firm and secure. My heart races, not from the shock of being lifted, but from the thrill of what’s to come.

He strides out of the House of Wind, his powerful legs propelling us into the night, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his dark wings. I let my head rest against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—woodsmoke and night air, a mixture that calms me even as my pulse quickens. Anticipation and want settle deep in my bones, intertwining with the warmth radiating from him, making it hard to think straight.

What does my mate have planned for us once he gets me to his bed? The mere thought sends butterflies swirling in my stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves. I close my eyes, surrendering to the feeling of safety in his arms, relishing the electric connection that pulses between us.

With each step flap of his wings he takes, I feel the promise of the night stretching out before us, a canvas of endless possibilities. All I can think about is how I’ve finally found him—my mate—and everything is about to change.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[illyrianbitch]

Back to Our Roots

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals

Word Count: 2.3k

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still. 

“Heyy, guys.”

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.

“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”

She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”

Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug. 

“Mor.”

Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read. 

She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.

“Morrigan.”

Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.

Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?" 

"Y/n and Cass.”

Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.

Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.

It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about.  Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air. 

It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room. 

As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively.  Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?

Azriel blinked.

He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.

A smile tugged at his lips. 

From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance. 

Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”

Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather. 

You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.

"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured. 

Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.

"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand. 

Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough. 

“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”

Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.

“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”

Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point,  with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.

“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”

Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”

“For hours?” Azriel added.

Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.

With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.

Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother. 

"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter. 

His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin. 

"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly. 

With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair. 

Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?" 

In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.

Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.

“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?" 

You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.

Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.

Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother.  "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"

 "Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."

Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.

"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.

"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."

Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment.  "Strategies?"

Azriel felt your nod against him. 

With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips. 

Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel.  "And?"

Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."

Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"

Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.

You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were. 

"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?" 

The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.

"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"

You and Cassian exchanged a look.

“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”

“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”

Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.

There was a sleek silence as your words were processed. 

And then Mor’s reaction came first.

"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement. 

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.

"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest. 

You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’

He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly. 

"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.

With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response. 

"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”

Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.

"That happened once!" 

“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?" 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos

p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series

[xreaderbooks]

Always

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 682

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Based on the scene in little women when Laurie tells Amy not to marry Fred. Maybe a part 2, if anyone wants it.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Part 2

Starfall, the spirits were traveling for their yearly migration, giving everyone in Velaris a reason to celebrate. Azriel was beside you as he always was, every year since this started. The same spot at the balcony the rest of the inner circle somewhere nearby.

Your arms were crossed in front of you, supporting your lean on the railings. One particular star's descent floated slower than all the others. You squinted, brows creasing in confusion. You tapped Azriel’s arm several times to catch his attention, calling his name with each tap, though tapping his arm once would have sufficed.

“Az, Look,” You pointed to the star that was once slowing down, now increased its pace.

“I’m looking love,” He chuckled. You glanced his way and did a double-take, he wasn’t looking at the star. He was looking at you. Not just looking, openly staring down at you.

“No, you aren’t.” You frowned up at him.

His mouth twitched upwards, “You’re right, I’m not.”

His amused smile disappeared and a look you couldn’t decipher appeared, you scanned his features and for the life of you, you wanted- needed to know what the look on his face was for. It was an unmasked version of Azriel that seeped into vulnerability but ultimately gave off strength.

“Y/n,” He spoke softly. You waited with little patience for his next words, he was scaring you. “Y/n, Don’t marry him.”

You searched his eyes for a sign of a joke, you weren’t going to find one. “What?”

He repeated himself, “Don’t marry Eris.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Why?” He took half a step closer, “You know why”

His bright hazel eyes pierced through yours and you were lost, so very lost the feeling overwhelmed you. You didn’t know why this was happening right now. You shook your head in denial, stepping away from him, he tried to step closer. You pressed your hand against his chest to stop him from getting too close, however, there was no point now- you caught a whiff of his scent.

“No, Az-” Tears welled in your eyes, so close to spilling that if you blinked they’d run down your cheeks.

“Yes.”

“No Azriel, this isn’t funny.” You plead with your eyes for him to stop whatever he playing at, you wouldn’t believe him. You trusted Azriel with everything you had in you, in life and death he would honor you but this? This you could not believe. “You were in love with Mor, you were in love with her for centuries, then Elain comes along and you do not- have not left her alone. Matter of fact, I should be grateful you’re even here with me at all.”

He lifted a hand to caress your cheek and you denied him. For the first time in your 535 years of living you had denied him and it killed you to know his meaning and yet it was not fair. You met his gaze once again, suddenly everything clicked in place and you were sure your heart was cracking. Too many emotions bubbled within you, “I can't.” You whispered.

He clutched onto the hand you had on his chest, “Y/n please-”

“No Azriel,” Your voice cracked. The bond pulsed, on stand-by for your next sentence as if asking if you were going to reject it, reject him. “I have been here, while you pined for my sister and Elain, you never wanted me. I will not be the one you settle for because you cannot have her, because a bond tells you to. Not when I’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

The tears flowed freely, ruining the makeup Nuala and Cerridwen worked onto your features earlier this evening. You left the balcony in a rush, ignoring the aching that came from the bond.

You didn’t care to turn back and see if Azriel was following you or if anyone had seen what had gone on in yours and Azriel’s usually peaceful area. You simply rushed to your room packing up only what you needed, fleeing the townhouse.

Fleeing from the townhouse with the one thought that ran through your mind, that Azriel was your mate. 

~~~

Part 2

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Part 4

Eris x AzrielSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

It's been a while, so quick summary. In part 2, he found her spying but let her go, under the bargain that she owed him a favor. In part 3, he sent a letter inviting her to a ball in Autumn as that favor. Her brothers forbade it, and out of spite, she decided to go.

Series Masterlist

Part 3 || Part 5

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year 3

You looked gorgeous, if you did say so yourself. You had stolen a dress from Mor's closet, enchanting it to fit your wings. Your brothers would've lost their minds if they say you in it.

You knew it was too scandalous for the Autumn Court, but you also knew that Eris had only invited you to irritate you. So you would irritate him right back.

You stared down at the leaf shaped tattoo on your wrist as your shadows whispered to you, warning you not to go. To you, if it pissed your brothers off, it would be worth it.

You quietly climbed out of your window, jumping off of the windowsill and letting your wings catch the wind. You didn't want to ruin your hair, so you just got far enough from the House of Wind to winnow.

You landed in front of the Forest House where you found yourself surrounded by Autumn Court High Fae. Some of them shot you looks, likely due to your lesser Fae heritage, and your shadows. But you ignored them, glancing around until your eyes caught Eris's.

His smirk made you want to claw at his face. But you let him make his way towards you, though you glared at him with every step he took.

You couldn't deny how handsome he looked. His hair was combed neatly, his suit was black with an emerald coat and tie.

"Shall we?" was all he said, holding an arm out to you. You scowled, but took it. "I'm surprised you agreed."

"I only agreed to annoy my brothers," you said, hoping to humble him.

"And how does your cousin feel?"

You yanked your arm away from him at the words, a truly hateful glare twisting your face and pointing in his direction.

"You don't deserve to even speak of her," you said to him.

He didn't reply. He just gripped your arm again, tugging you into the ballroom.

The ballroom was gorgeous, tiles of gold and walls of marble. Fae all around wore fancy suits and gowns. A few of them had to dodge your wings, shooting you dirty looks as they did so. You just glared back at them.

Eris didn't speak a word to you as his hand slipped around your waist, his other joining with your scarred hand. You begrudgingly began to dance, only because you could imagine the looks on your brothers faces if they were to see you.

“Why did you invite me here?” you demanded.

“You really pissed me off in that forest,” he said to you. “It seemed only fair the favor you owed me be something that pissed you off, as well.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you danced with him.

You noticed a couple beside you whispering to each other as they eyed you. It hit you then why he had invited you.

He was trying to embarrass you. He knew everyone would stare and judge you for being Lesser Fae. For your darker skin. For your shadows. For your Night Court fashion.

“I wouldn’t think your father would be too happy about you inviting me to this,” you said, your shadows sticking close to you.

“My father doesn’t care who I fuck,” he replied. “Just who I marry.” Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head.

“Sex is not part of the arrangement,” you reminded him.

“Of course not,” he assured. “But people will assume. And talk. And if my father gets word, he won't care.”

“He sure seemed to care who your mother was fucking,” you shot back.

You didn’t know if the rumors were true, but everyone spoke of his mother and Helion. And everyone talked of how Beron found out.

“What did I tell you about saying a word against my mother?” he snarled, his entire demeanor changing as his grip on your waist tightened.

“You invited me here to humiliate me,” you replied smoothly. “I will say what I please.”

“I don’t know what gives you that idea,” he denied. “Besides, you and your brother are bastard born, so they say. I can only assume the worst of your own mother.”

“You know nothing of my mother or the conditions under which I was born,” you replied, face heating.

You thought of your mother, the female that you had only been able to see once a week for the first six years of your life. You hadn't spoken a word to her in those years, your trauma rendering you speechless until you were eleven.

But she had loved you. She would hold you during that hour, letting you nuzzle your face in her neck as she stroked your hair and sang to you.

Now, she lived in a house Azriel had bought for her. You went to visit her at least once a month. She was everything to you. She and Az were all you had for so long.

Hearing Eris insult her struck something deep in you. Your sweet mother had been insulted enough, having two children out of wedlock. She'd been shunned, shamed, and tormented. She didn't deserve any of it.

Eris was studying you as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You glanced back at him, eyes narrowing.

"Neither of us will speak of the other's mothers," you said simply.

"Fine," he agreed.

The dance was one you'd never learned. But he was leading, and you were picking it up quickly. He spun you around, then dipped you.

As you glanced up at him, you noticed how beautiful his amber eyes truly were. You stared into them, your brows furrowing. Something was tying you to him . . . something palpable.

You gasped as something snapped into place, a string going taut between you two.

"Mate mate mate," your shadows whispered.

His eyes went wide, wild, as you tore yourself from his grip.

"Wait--" he insisted.

But your shadows had winnowed you away before he could say another word.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark masterlist.

That’s right it’s longer enough to get its own masterlist.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[fxckmiup]

𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐒 - 𝟎𝟏 || 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

{gif not mine}

♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+} 

MINORS DNI

Series Masterlist || ACOTAR'S Navigation

Disclaimers / Trigger Warnings

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

 Arya laughs loudly as she chases her older brother down the hall of their townhouse, "I'm coming to get you!" Her wings flap a little making her slightly bump into the wall. "You'll never catch me Arya!" giggles a teenager Rhysand.

Arya scrunches her face in concentration with the tip of her tongue out on the corner of her lip, her eyes zeros in on the center of her brother's back before she flaps as hard as her 4-year-old wings can. A few more inches and I can tackle him.

Rhysand continues to jog while laughing until he realizes the sudden quietness behind him, worried that her sister accidentally winnowed out, he turns around to check only for the wind to get knocked out of him as his little sister tackles him onto the floor.

"I got you, I got you, I got you!" Arya giggles while Rhys tries to catch his breath with an amused smirk.

"What did I say about running and flying indoors?" their mom scolds as she stands at the end of the hallway with her hands on her hips. Though, you can see the smile threatening to take over her face. Vera's favourite sight is seeing her children just be children, something she was ripped off of at such a young age and now that her oldest is soon to be nine years old, she knows his time as a child will soon be limited, if there was free time to be given to him at all.

As soon as Rhysand turns nine, the High Lord of Night, his father will be sending him off to Windhaven for Illyrian training, therefore Vera savours these moments when she watches Rhys hold his little sister instead of holding a sword. The night heir was supposed to start his training at the ripe age of eight but Vera had begged her mate to give him a year more to be a child before sending him off to train.

"I'm sorry momma, it's raining outside and Rhy's and I had a lot of energy to burn out," Arya pouts up at her mother while rolling off of her brother and laying beside him on the floor.

"Oh is that so little one?" Vera smirks as she slowly walks over to the two and before they know it she attacks their sides making her smile widely as the two erupt in laughter.

"Wait- no!" Rhysand laughs as Arya tries to wiggle away. "How's this for burning energy?" Vera laughs before showing mercy and letting them breathe.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Arya sips her cup of tea before placing it on the window ledge as she finishes the agreed amount of history she has to read for the day.

"I would rather go flying than read all these history books every day, I finished school years ago but I'm stuck reading to catch up on politics that happened thousands of years ago. I would take training over this momma," Arya whines as she finishes the last chapter for the day.

Vera, ever the graceful beautiful Illyrian female, sends her daughter a teasing smile, "I'm sorry little one, just be glad you were able to compromise with your father. Learn history for a few hours and then you can train in fighting and flying. You know he wouldn't have allowed the two to happen to his daughter unless he can exchange something for it."

Arya sighed as she stood up and walked to her mother who was working on a beautiful dress, "I don't even know why he's making me learn all the political ins and outs when Rhy's is the heir to the crown."

Vera's spine immediately relaxes under her daughter's soft caresses on her back. "Can you trust your brother to run the night court all on his own one day? He can barely organize his room as it is, Do you think he can organize correspondences on his table in the future?" Vera teases as she ties her last stitch on the dress.

"I'm sure Mor would love to do that," Arya chuckles before carefully lifting the dress her mother was working on off her mother's lap. "This is beautiful," the princess of night admires.

"Rhysand's future wife is lucky and she better appreciate every one of these or else I'm telling Rhy's she's not the one and I don't care if they even end up as mates," Arya comments as she hangs her mother's newest creation with the rest of the dresses she finished recently.

"Oh speaking of your brother's future wife, I need you to go to the weaver sometime this week when your brother gets here," Vera states making Arya scrunch her nose in confusion.

"Why is that?" Vera only smiles as she cleans her supplies around the room. "I want the weaver to hold onto my engagement ring for safe keeping and I want your brother to have his future wife to be one to retrieve it one day."

"Let me guess, his future wife is only worthy if she can retrieve this ring from the weaver?" Arya laughs, she loops her arm around her mothers as they walk to the dining room to prepare for dinner. "You're lucky the weaver likes me," she giggles before putting on an apron.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Amren watches with an almost bored expression as Arya narrows her eyes at the ancient one across from her, concentrating on trying to get past the ancient's thick mental shield.

Amren's shield was a thick dark grey fog that went from top to bottom of her mental field, Arya could just about see the shapes of tall pine trees behind it, it was a vast forest surrounded with mist and fog swirling around which almost represented her silver eyes.

After almost a decade of practicing with Amren, Arya has only recently managed to walk through the forest of the ancient's mind and find the actual mental barrier. For years Arya kept getting lost in Amren's mental forest. Every time she got stuck and took too long in the forest the silver-eyed ancient locked her in there, for a minute or two to teach her that time was of the essence and to be careful using her daemeti skills.

Now the princess of the night court can get through Amren's mental forest in record time, even faster than her older brother, but the real challenge was finding a crack in Amren's shield and Arya has been trying for months with no luck.

Today, Arya woke up with more determination and she vowed to her reflection in the mirror this morning that she would get through the ancient's shield no matter what she had to do to get through it. She should have asked to train with Cassian first to get some anger out but there had been no time to ask Amren and Cassian to switch training time. No time when it was only this morning that Arya's father barged into her room talking about how she is required to spend some time with one of Beron's sons as she is scheduled to be betrothed to one of them when Autumn comes.

Vera was livid when she heard her husband's command. The High Lord of Night had sold her off to Beron's son in exchange for their alliance in the coming war.

"Come on, girl, I don't have all day," Amren tells her annoyedly. Arya scoffs before once again concentrating on the impenetrable shield in Amren's mind.

Arya focuses on the bottom of the ancient's shield, she conjures thick purple smoke from the bottom of the shield and with a quick flick of her wrist, the purple smoke covers the entire shield. The half-Illyrian female clings her smoke onto the shield, making her smoke act as a second skin to Amren's shield.

Before Amren could even grasp what was happening, Arya forced her smoke to bend along with the shield that her smoke now clung to. Arya smirks as she watches Amren flinch with a hiss and half a second later the ancient's shield cracks and Arya wastes no time before her purple smoke seeps through the cracks.

Arya conjures her purple eyes into Amren's mind before quickly retracting herself from her brain. The night princess gets a growl from the silver-eyed fae which only results in the princess' smirk growing.

"Only took me almost a decade," Arya says triumphantly. "I was honestly tempted to blast your shield once I heard it crack, luckily for you I took pity."

"I could kill you right now just for saying that," Amren hisses as she rubs her temple trying to stop the headache that was slowly starting.

"Please, you know you love me," that statement was true. Even Arya's father was afraid of the ancient one, but anyone can easily see how much Amren adores and cares for the princess of the night.

"You are a pain in my ass."

"Well, my sweet Amren, wait it out a few more months and you'll be rid of me," Arya shrugs crossing her arms over her chest.

Amren narrows her eyes at the princess, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, so the news isn't out yet?" Arya says with a tone of disbelief, "Interesting. I thought the news would've been known by every fae and creature of Prythian by now."

"What news?" Amren growls, not liking the implication of what this news could be.

"I'm to be betrothed to one of Beron's sons," Arya says just above a whisper.

Amren shoots out of her chair with a growl that shakes the ground under Arya's feet, "You're lying."

Arya says dejectedly closing her eyes, "I wish I was Ams, I wish I was."

"Did that idiot of a High Lord not see what the Autumn court did to Morrigan?" Arya's eyes shoot open wide at the boldness of Amren calling her father an idiot in the open air. No one disagrees with the statement but no one dares to say it out loud. And apparently, Amren knew exactly what Arya was thinking.

"Please, you think I'm afraid of your father?" Amren shakes her head before she starts pacing again. "I will not let that male sell you off to those despicable males."

"There isn't anything any of us can do unless we want me dead because I assure you, if I did what Mor did, I won't make it out alive and I will die in the hands of my father."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Taglist: @saltedcoffeescotch ; @skyjasper ; @inloveallthetime ;

[ if your name is crossed it's because tumblr won't allow me to tag you ]

[a-court-of-mischief-and-madness]

Midnight revelations

Part 3--------Part 4

Summary: her wings had vanished ever since that night with the horrors encountered with tamlins father, only a person she feels true desire and passion for can invoke those wings. What happens when the person who does that is non other than eris vanserra?

Note: what's up guys, hope all of you are enjoying this series so far. If you have any suggestions for the next few chapters.. dw my requests are open!!! So ask awayy. Also if you want to enter the taglist please comment and let me now xx

Warnings: slight smut, romance, mentions of kissing!, angst and mentions of blood

As you stepped out of your room, the familiar corridors of the House of Wind stretched out before you, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The events of the evening still weighed heavily on your mind, leaving you lost in thought as you made your way through the labyrinthine halls.

Lost in contemplation, you barely noticed the subtle shift in the air as you approached Amren's chambers. Her voice, sharp and commanding, pierced through your head, calling you to her side with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

Curiosity piqued, you hastened your steps, your heart pounding in anticipation of what awaited you behind closed doors. With each passing moment, the weight of the unknown grew heavier upon your shoulders, filling you with a sense of apprehension mingled with a glimmer of hope.

As you reached Amren's door and stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted, enveloping you in a sense of solemnity and reverence. Amren's piercing gaze met yours, her eyes holding a depth of knowledge that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You have wings of great power," Amren stated bluntly, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Caught off guard by her revelation, you struggled to find words to respond. "Had, you mean. what are you talking about? " you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. You still felt them in you but you thought it was your brain's method of coping with the trauma. To make you think they were still there

Amren rose from her seat, her movements graceful yet purposeful. "Your wings, they disappeared that night when Tamlin's father attempted to clip them, not because of their weakness, but because of their strength," she explained, her gaze never leaving yours.

Amren's expression remained impassive as she rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and measured. "Your wings are special, perhaps the most powerful I've encountered in our realm," she explained, her tone grave yet tinged with a hint of awe.

The weight of her words settled heavily upon you as you tried to make sense of their significance. "Special?" you echoed, seeking clarification.

Amren nodded slowly, her gaze never wavering from yours. "They have the ability to reveal themselves only when you experience extreme passion and desire for someone," she revealed, her voice tinged with reverence.

The revelation sent a shockwave through you, the implications of her words sinking in. "Passion and desire..." you murmured, your mind racing with thoughts of Eris and the inexplicable pull you felt towards him.

she continued, her tone steady yet filled with warning. "Such power comes with great responsibility and consequences."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling heavily upon your shoulders. "So they can be revealed at any moment, what should I do now?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Amren regarded you thoughtfully, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "Trust your instincts," she advised, her voice a mere whisper. "And be prepared for what may come."

With that, she returned to her seat, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of her revelation. As you processed the implications of your wings and the connection they symbolized, you couldn't shake the feeling that your destiny was now inexorably intertwined with Eris, for better or for worse.

--------------------------♧--------------------------------

Amren's revelation about your wings left you stunned. The idea that your wings could only return through the touch of someone you had extreme passion and desire for was both thrilling and terrifying. You kept replaying Amren's words in your mind, trying to process the implications.

Over the next few weeks, the rest of the inner circle learned about Amren's discovery. Rhysand was cautious, hoping the person who could invoke such passion and desire in you was not someone dangerous. He knew all too well that strong emotions could cloud judgment, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Then one evening, Rhysand invited Eris to dinner at the House of Wind to finalize an important agreement between the courts. The atmosphere was tense as everyone gathered in the grand dining hall. You chose a magnificently beautiful red dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. The fabric was a deep crimson, soft and luxurious, with a subtle sheen that caught the light just so. The neckline dipped low, hinting at the curves beneath, and the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs, pooling at your feet in a cascade of red.

You paired the dress with red lipstick, a bold shade that accentuated your lips and added to the allure of the ensemble. As you entered the dining hall, you could feel all eyes on you, but one pair of eyes, in particular, stood out.

Eris couldn't take his eyes off you the entire evening. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, as if he couldn't resist the allure you exuded in that dress. His eyes traced the curves of your body, lingering on the exposed skin of your shoulders and the dip of your neckline. Every movement you made seemed to captivate him, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

Azriel noticed, his sharp eyes picking up on Eris's fixation. Nesta leaned over and whispered in your ear, her voice teasing yet reassuring.

"He's eye-fucking you," Nesta murmured, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Relax, darling. Don't let it get to you."

You flushed at her bluntness but appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood. Rhysand seemed engrossed in the negotiations, but Feyre's suspicious glances didn't escape your notice.

After dinner, you retired to your room, thinking Eris had left, but you were startled when he appeared in your chamber. The atmosphere crackled with tension as he moved closer, his eyes smoldering with desire. You were in your nightgown, feeling exposed yet strangely exhilarated.

"What are you doing here?" The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, a mixture of surprise and apprehension lacing your tone.

Eris regarded you with an inscrutable expression, his gaze piercing as he took a step closer. "I came to see you," he replied simply, his voice low and measured.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of unease at his response, your instincts urging you to tread carefully in his presence. "At this hour?" you pressed, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging within you.

He offered you a small, enigmatic smile, his eyes holding yours in a steady gaze. "I couldn't stay away," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of his words, the conflicting emotions swirling within you making it difficult to think clearly. "Eris..." you began, unsure of what to say next.

As Eris approached, the air seemed to sizzle with the heat of his presence. His gaze, filled with an intensity that bordered on infernal, seared into yours, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. You could feel the warmth emanating from his very being, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room.

Eris stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you with an intimacy that made your breath catch. "I needed to see you," he murmured, his voice husky. His fingers brushed your face, trailing down to your hair, the touch electrifying.

Your back was bare in your nightgown, and when his warm hands slid down to your shoulders, a shiver ran through you. "Eris," you breathed, but he silenced you with a look.

His hands were warm against your cool skin, the fire within him contrasting with your own tension. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel it too?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, his hands moved lower, caressing your back. The touch was intimate, setting your nerves on fire. When his fingers brushed the base of your spine.

And then, in that moment of exquisite intimacy, your wings unfurled, bathed in the golden glow of his fiery touch. Eris's eyes widened in astonishment, the flames of his own power flickering in the depths of his gaze.

"You have wings," he breathed, his voice a low rumble, tinged with a mixture of awe and fascination.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find words, the heat of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. But before you could respond, Eris leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Secrets like this..." he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "they only make you more irresistible."

You panicked, forcing him to keep quiet about what had just happened. "You can't tell anyone," you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eris raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And what will you do for me if I keep your secret?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. "Name your price," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Eris leaned closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Oh, I'll think of something," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Just then Eris seemed to have winnowed away and before you could take in what just happened

Nesta entered the room, her eyes immediately fell upon your unfurled wings, their golden radiance filling the chamber with an otherworldly glow. Shock registered on her face as she took in the unexpected sight, her mouth opening to speak before she turned to you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"What just happened?" Nesta's voice was incredulous, her eyes darting between you and the now empty space where Eris had stood moments before.

You struggled to find words, still reeling from the intensity of the moment. "He... he saw my wings," you managed to stammer out, your voice betraying a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

As Nesta's gaze lingered on your wings, her expression shifted from shock to a thoughtful understanding. "Your wings... they only come when you truly desire someone," she mused, her voice carrying a note of realization.

You swallowed hard, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks at her astute observation. "I..." You struggled to find the words, unsure how to articulate the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

Nesta's eyes met yours, her gaze unwavering. "You desire Eris," she stated matter-of-factly, her words hanging in the air with a weight that left you breathless.

The truth of her statement hit you like a bolt of lightning, stirring a whirlwind of emotions deep within your chest. You couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards Eris, the magnetic attraction that seemed to defy reason and logic.

"I..." Your voice faltered, unable to deny the truth of her words.

Nesta's expression softened, her hand reaching out to grasp yours in a gesture of support. "It's okay," she said gently, her voice filled with understanding

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her acceptance. "I hope the rest feel the same about it"

She offered you a reassuring smile before turning to leave, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of her revelation. As you processed the implications of what she had said, you couldn't shake the feeling that your life had just become infinitely more complicated, with Eris at the center of it all.

----------------------------♧-----------------------------

The tension in the Night Court was palpable, and it seemed as though everyone was on edge after the recent events. You had barely settled into your room when there was a knock on the door. Before you could respond, Rhysand and Feyre entered, their faces a mixture of concern and curiosity.

Your heart raced as you instinctively turned to shield your golden wings from their view, but it was too late. Rhysand's eyes widened, and Feyre gasped, stepping closer.

"Your wings," Rhysand said, his voice low and urgent. "How did this happen?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "It's... complicated," you replied, avoiding their eyes.

Feyre stepped forward, her gaze soft but probing. "We need to know. This could change everything."

You hesitated, the memory of Eris's touch still fresh on your skin, his warmth lingering against your back. But you couldn't reveal his involvement. Not yet. "I don't know," you lied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "It just... happened."

Rhysand's eyes narrowed, suspicion and worry battling for dominance in his expression. "Are you sure?" he pressed.

You nodded, keeping your voice steady. "Yes. I'm sure."

Feyre placed a gentle hand on your arm, her eyes filled with understanding. "If you remember anything, or if something else happens, please tell us. We're here for you."

You managed a weak smile, grateful for their support but burdened by the secret you were now carrying. "I will," you promised, hoping they couldn't see through your facade.

Rhysand, however, wasn't satisfied. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "There's more to this, isn't there? I can sense it. You need to trust us."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "I trust you, Rhys," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I genuinely don't know how it happened. One moment they were gone, and the next... they were back."

Rhysand's eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his stance remained. "I want to believe you," he said quietly. "But if there's anything you're not telling us, it could put everyone at risk."

Your chest tightened at his words, the pressure of the situation nearly overwhelming. "I understand," you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. "And I promise, if I figure anything out, you'll be the first to know."

Rhysand studied you for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. But remember, we're in this together. If you need anything, we're here."

Feyre squeezed your hand gently. "Take care of yourself. And don't be afraid to lean on us."

With that, they turned to leave, the door closing softly behind them. You let out a shaky breath, the burden of your secret pressing heavily on your shoulders.

-----------------------------♧---------------------------

As Eris stood with Lucien in the dimly lit study, the weight of his confession pressed heavily upon him. He couldn't keep it hidden any longer, not from his own brother, not when the truth gnawed at him every waking moment.

"Lucien," Eris began, his voice low and hesitant, "there's something I need to tell you."

Lucien's gaze met his, curiosity mingled with concern in his green eyes. "What is it, Eris?" he asked, his tone gentle yet expectant.

Eris took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "She's my mate," he confessed, the words heavy with significance.

In the depths of his mind, Eris was transported back to that fateful night—the night when he first laid eyes on her, and everything changed.

The grand hall was ablaze with light and music, a symphony of colors and sounds that seemed to dance around him as he entered. His gaze swept across the room, taking in the opulence of the event, until it landed on her.

She stood at the edge of the room, bathed in a halo of soft candlelight. Her violet eyes sparkled with intelligence and mischief, drawing him in with their magnetic allure. They were eyes that seemed to see right through him, to the very core of his being. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back like a river of midnight, the soft waves catching the light and shimmering with an ethereal glow. It framed her face perfectly, highlighting the delicate angles of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips, painted a deep, inviting red.

She wore a gown of deep blue, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that was both elegant and provocative. The bodice was intricately designed, hugging her slender waist and accentuating the swell of her hips. A daring slit ran up one side, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her long, shapely legs with each step she took. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at the soft curve of her breasts, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him mad.

Eris's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, every fiber of his being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her beauty was a siren's call, a magnetic force that pulled him in despite the danger it represented. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the golden thrum of the bond that pulsed between them.

He could feel the heat of her presence from across the room, a tantalizing warmth that wrapped around him and refused to let go. His thoughts became a whirlwind of desire and need, an all-consuming fire that burned through his veins and set his soul alight.

As she moved through the crowd, their eyes met, and he felt the world narrow down to just the two of them. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving only the intensity of her gaze and the electric connection that sizzled between them.

In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to cross the distance between them, to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. He imagined the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips, the taste of her lips as he kissed her with a passion that had been building since the moment he first saw her. He longed to bury his hands in her hair, to pull her close and feel her body pressed against his, every curve and contour fitting perfectly against him.

He could almost feel the silk of her dress beneath his fingers, the warmth of her breath on his skin as she leaned in closer. His mind raced with thoughts of what it would be like to explore every inch of her, to lose himself in the depths of her eyes and the heat of her touch. The bond thrummed between them, a golden thread that tied their fates together and set his soul on fire.

But before he could act on those desires, he felt his father's gaze upon him. Beron, ever observant, had seen the change in him, the shift in his demeanor that betrayed the truth.

Their eyes locked across the room, and in that instant, Eris knew that his father had sensed it too. The knowledge hung between them like a heavy shroud, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound them together.

And as Eris stood frozen in place, his father's knowing gaze bore into him, his expression unreadable yet filled with a silent warning. It was a warning that echoed in the depths of Eris's soul, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

But despite the fear and uncertainty that threatened to consume him, one thing remained clear: he would do whatever it took to protect her, his mate, from the darkness that loomed on the horizon. For she was his light, his salvation, and he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe.

Lucien's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression mirroring the shock that coursed through Eris's veins. "Your mate?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his voice.

Eris nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I've felt it—the golden thrum, the string in my heart—since the day of the reunion party," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucien's eyes widened in realization, comprehension dawning on his features. "That's why..." he trailed off, his thoughts racing as he connected the dots.

Eris nodded, relief flooding through him at having finally shared the truth with his brother. "I couldn't deny it any longer," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Lucien placed a reassuring hand on Eris's shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "It changes things," he acknowledged, his voice filled with understanding.

Eris sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him once more. "It feels like it can never happen," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Rhysand is her brother, and she can never be disloyal to her family. She would never forgive herself."

Lucien's expression softened with empathy. "That's a difficult position," he agreed quietly. "Family ties run deep."

Eris nodded, his jaw tightening. "And it gets worse," he added, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Our father found out about the bond. He told me to use it to get information out of her."

Eris's mind drifted further back to a darker memory, one that had left a scar deeper than any physical wound. It was the night after the grand event, the night he realized the full extent of his father's cruelty.

He had returned to the Autumn Court, the golden thrumming bond still pulsing within him, a beacon of both hope and fear. But as he entered his father’s study, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Beron's eyes gleamed with a malevolent light, and the air was thick with tension.

"Sit down, Eris," Beron commanded, his voice a dangerous whisper. Eris obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew his father well enough to recognize the signs of impending violence.

Beron leaned forward, his eyes boring into Eris's. "I saw the way you looked at her," he hissed. "The way you reacted. She's your mate, isn't she?"

Eris didn't answer, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes gave him away. Beron’s lips curled into a predatory smile. "Good. This can be useful."

Eris's stomach churned with dread. "Useful how?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Beron stood and walked around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate. "You will use her," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Get close to her. Learn her secrets, her weaknesses. Bring that information to me. We will exploit her to undermine Rhysand and his Court."

Eris's blood ran cold. "I won't do it," he said through gritted teeth. "She's my mate. I won't betray her."

Beron's expression darkened. In a flash, he grabbed Eris by the collar and slammed him against the wall, a wickedly sharp knife appearing in his hand. He pressed the blade to Eris's throat, the cold metal biting into his skin.

"You don't have a choice," Beron snarled. "If you defy me, if you refuse to do as I command, I will make sure your mother suffers. I will hurt her in ways you cannot fathom."

Eris's breath caught in his throat, his mind racing with fear and fury. His mother—his gentle, loving mother—was the only person who had ever shown him kindness in this pit of vipers. The thought of her in pain, suffering because of him, was unbearable.

Beron pressed the knife harder, drawing a thin line of blood. "Do you understand me, Eris?" he demanded, his voice a venomous whisper.

Eris nodded, the movement barely perceptible. "I understand," he whispered back, his voice hollow with despair.

Beron released him, stepping back with a satisfied smile. "Good. Remember, Eris, you are a pawn in a much larger game. And you will play your part, or you will watch everything you care about burn."

As Eris watched his father turn away, the weight of his predicament settled heavily on his shoulders. He was trapped, bound by a cruel choice that tore at his very soul. To protect his mother, he would have to betray the woman who was his destined mate, the woman he was already falling for.

That night, as he lay in his bed, the golden thrum of the bond felt like a chain around his heart, a reminder of the impossible situation he was in. And in the darkness, he vowed to find a way to protect both his mother and his mate, no matter the cost

Lucien's eyes darkened with anger. "Beron," he spat, the name a curse on his lips. "That bastard."

Eris clenched his fists, a mixture of rage and helplessness roiling within him. "I can't do it," he said fiercely. "I won't use her like that. But if I refuse, he'll know something's wrong."

Lucien squeezed Eris's shoulder in affirmation, a silent promise passing between them. "We'll figure this out," he said firmly. "Together, but for now you need to stay away from her as much as you can, I know you feel extremely provocative but father is very brutal and if he touches her you wouldn't be able to do anything eris."

---------------------------♧-------------------------------

Later that night, Eris received a summons from his father, Beron, the High Lord of the Autumn Court. Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach as he made his way to his father's chambers, knowing that Beron's demands were rarely benign.

As he entered the dimly lit room, Beron's imposing figure loomed over him, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Eris," he greeted, his voice dripping with a deceptive warmth that made Eris's skin crawl.

"What do you need, Father?" Eris asked, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the unease gnawing at him.

Beron's lips curled into a cruel smile. "I want to know how your little mission is progressing," he said, his voice laced with thinly veiled menace.

Eris swallowed hard, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a convincing lie. "It's... progressing," he hedged, careful to keep his thoughts guarded.

Beron's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through Eris's defenses with unnerving precision. "Don't play games with me, Eris," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to know if you've made any progress with her. Have you gained her trust? Learned her secrets?"

Eris felt a surge of panic clawing at his chest. He couldn't let his father see the truth, couldn't let him know about the wings. This was the only thing he had left that were truly his own, and he would protect it at all costs.

"I'm working on it," Eris replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But these things take time. I can't rush it."

Beron's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "Time is a luxury we don't have, Eris," he snapped, his tone turning icy. "I need results, and I need them now."

Eris clenched his jaw, his mind racing for a way out of this impossible situation. He couldn't risk his father discovering the truth, couldn't bear to see the look of triumph in Beron's eyes when he realized the power that lay dormant within Eris's mate.

But despite his best efforts to hide it, Beron's High Lord power was too formidable to evade. With a surge of energy, Beron reached into Eris's mind, probing for the secrets he sought.

Eris fought against the intrusion, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of resistance. But despite his efforts, he couldn't keep Beron out completely. And in a horrifying moment of realization, he knew that his father had seen it—the memory of the golden wings, hidden away in the depths of his mind.

Beron's eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity, a hunger for power burning within them. "Well, well, well," he murmured, a twisted smile spreading across his lips. "It seems you've been holding out on me, Eris."

Eris's heart sank as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. He had inadvertently revealed his most closely guarded secret, and now his father would stop at nothing to claim what he desired.

Beron's gaze locked onto Eris's, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Those wings," he said, his voice filled with a dangerous excitement, "they are the key to everything. And now that I know they exist, I will stop at nothing to make them mine."

Fear clenched at Eris's heart as he watched his father, knowing that Beron's obsession with power knew no bounds. And as Beron's plans began to unfold, Eris knew that he would have to tread carefully if he hoped to protect both his mate and himself from the ruthless ambitions of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @sunny1616 @blackgirlmagicforever

[yearning-for-autumn]

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...

[mother-above]

I'm Not The One For You

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel has been stressed at work and decided to hit the bars with his brothers. He gets so drunk that he may have forgotten what his love looks like

Warnings: fluffy with some spicy implications

WC: 1.1k

*masterlist*

a/n: I've been writing some heavy things and needed a break. I hope yall enjoy this short fluffy piece! xx

The sound of heels clicking on cobblestone joined the myriad of sounds along the Sidra. The city was lively, and all types of music and chatter filled the crisp air in Velaris. As you got closer, the bass at Rita's was getting louder. You, Morrigan, Amren, and the Archeron sisters were glowing from the spa's lavender-scented oil and dressed to the nines. After an afternoon of well-deserved pampering and last-minute shopping, it was time to meet with the boys.

You were wearing a dark blue mini dress, the material sparkled and reflected light with every movement of your body. The black strappy heels matched with your manicure and pedicure.

You were vibrant and ready for the night out with your mate and friends. Work had been tiring, especially when it was your job to organize military exercises with other Courts armies.

Excited to step into the bar, you grinned as the music vibrated all around you. Scanning the dance floor, your grin spreads when you see your blue-siphoned mate absolutely smashed and tearing it up on the dance floor with his brothers and other partygoers. Happy to see him relaxed, you go over to the bar to order yourself a drink before joining Azriel.

Despite being known as the “quiet one,” Azriel loved to dance and party occasionally. Work had been stressful lately, so he let loose and drank to his heart's content. Females and males were coming up to him all night asking to dance with him, but he refused, and if they got insistent, he’d give them the “sorry, you’re lovely but I’m married” speech. Everyone was always respectful and backed away, after all, he was the Shadowsinger.

It wasn’t even late but admittedly, Azriel drank too much, and his wild erratic dancing proved the point. His brothers and family teased him from afar, even Elain was poking fun at the drunken shadowsinger. In the corner of his eye, a female in a short blue sparkly dress approached him. Smelling like lavender, the female slid an arm around his waist and pressed her body against his.

You were about to bop to the beat of the music when Azriel stopped dancing and ripped himself away from you. The movement was so sudden, that the cocktail in your hand splashed droplets on the floor.

“Az? What’s wrong?” you asked wide-eyed.

“S-sorry, I’m taken. I’m just waiting for my wife,” he slurred as he deliberately turned away from you and started dancing again.

Startled, you looked at Cas, Rhys, and the girls and you burst out laughing. You pointed an accusatory finger toward the Illyrians.

“He doesn’t even recognize me! I can’t believe he’s shit-faced this early!” you weren’t mad at the boys, just highly amused.

Tapping Azriel on the shoulder, he turned, and you gave him your most dazzling smile. “I haven’t seen you all day and this is how you greet me? I’ve been wanting to dance with you, love.”

His eyes run down your body appreciatively, his gaze slowing around your thighs, he’s always loved your thighs. You gave him an encouraging nod, but he was still clueless.

Bringing up his left hand, he shows you the golden band around his ring finger. “I told you I’m married, see? She also happens to be my mate.”

You stifled a giggle and stepped closer to him. Surely, he would recognize your scent, right? You grabbed his hand and let your fingers trace the scars, he loved it when you did that.

In complete shock, he snatched his hand away after a few seconds.

“Look, you’re beautiful but I’m not the one for you. I would walk away before my mate gets here. She’s Night Court’s best warrior and I’m afraid she won’t let you get away with you bothering me so much,” said Azriel, his lips pressed into a line.

You started laughing, your handsome mate was so loyal. You can’t believe he would have sic’d you to flirty females. His family, who were listening to the whole thing, was snickering as well. Rhysand pinched his nose highly regretting pre-gaming at the townhouse, at the time it was a great idea.

Azriel squinted at his family when he realized they were laughing at him. “What?!”

Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Brother, you’re so drunk that you don’t even recognize your own mate!”

Azriel’s eyes furrowed as he looked at your beautiful twinkling face, your lips forming into a smirk. Azriel tugged on the bond three times, and after a short beat, you tugged the bond four times. It was something the two of you did, the first person tugged three times and the four tugs meant that the second person loved them more. Clarity burst through his intoxication and when he realized, he tipped his head back in laughter.

Moving closer to you, he pressed his lips onto your temple and murmured an apology against your skin, this was the last time he was going to drink this much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a hand on your waist and the other on your bum. You turned to place a kiss on his cheek and then his lips.

He squeezed your body, and you pressed your lips on him again. “Why do you smell like lavender? No wonder I didn’t recognize you, I hate lavender!”

“That’s the oil they used on our massage today,” you said. A slower song was playing so you swayed with Azriel. He held you tight as you gazed into his eyes, melting at the sight of the brown and greens melting together.

After a few more hours of partying, it was time for you and Azriel to go home. Smelling of sweat, booze, and lavender oil, the both of you opted to bathe together.

You relaxed and laid on Azriel's chest as he took the loofah and scrubbed your skin. He said he wanted you to smell like yourself again and insisted that the bath water was to be changed for the two of you to properly soak. Now that the suds smelled of your favorite soap, he pulled you against him and he closed his eyes.

“Az?”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m really happy to know that even when you’re shit-faced, you won’t ever cheat on me.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, his hand splayed across your stomach and held you tighter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got the most perfect person in the world in my arms?”

You blushed; he always knew how to make you feel loved. Turning around to straddle him, you bent down to capture his lips. Who were you to question his logic?