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dont-look-its-embarrassing · 13 days ago

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Inner Ace

This summary is a bit long winded, so I apologize for the pre-read to the actual story, it just gives a lot of contexts to where I am going to start the story off.

Summary: When the Archerons where all but banished to the forests, struck with bad luck and poverty from their once luxurious lifestyle, there was one person who cared how the family survived. Y/n. Having always lived on the edge of society and just above starving from her forever grieving mother and recently vacated father, she learned to keep her life afloat. Running into a young Feyre in the woods, almost mistaking her for the wind, elder (although only by a couple years) Y/n took her under her wing and became the mentor and sister that she never knew despite the two of them that shared her name. When Feyre was taken by the Fae, Y/n was distraught, waiting and searching the border every day during her hunts. That is, until one day there is a knock on her door, behind it stood the very woman she ever considered family, but she isn't alone, and why are her ears pointy? Who are these men with wings? Why can she not look away from one of them?

Warnings: slight swearing, Nesta AND Elaine SLANDER (sorry you cannot have one without the other), slight anxiety, alcohol mention, family reuniting fluffy feelings, (almost) instant attraction (Idk if this is a warning but some people don't like it moving quick), slow burn (to an actual established romance)

I do want to make this a series, as I adore the thought of Feyre having a best friend before the IC who taught her the ropes. Plus, there could be a fun little spin and some angst with a potential mate that is SO low hanging fruit to me.

Enjoy!!

The wind howled outside the thin walls of Y/n's home. The slight chill in the air despite being housed within them made her shiver and shift herself towards the kindling fire in the quaint fireplace in her living room.

It was bitter out when Y/n heard a knock come from her front door. Not expecting company, she had figured it was Elaine with some other excuse to get her to sway Nesta into doing some task. Responding with a small “Coming” she hustled to the door.

Who she opened it to was not who was expected, but only someone she had prayed every day to see again.

“Feyre?” Her voice shook and she swore she saw a small shadow dart out of the corner of her eye. Blaming it on the still boiling water for the food she had yet to make in the kitchen, she dismissed it.

“Hey Y/n.” The smile that overtook Y/n's face as with a motion of open arms, her best friend all but launched herself into her embrace. The strength in which Feyre landed made Y/n take a step to steady themselves, but she didn't think twice to return the embrace.

“Oh thank the gods." her voice was a whisper as Y/n's habit of stroking the younger girls' hair picked up. Although, it seemed to have missed a couple inches as instead of meeting the crown of her head, her hand landed at the back of her skull. "I thought I would never see you again.” The last breath of air in her lungs followed this exclamation, followed by inhaling as much of the girl as she could.

“Didn’t have faith I would make it back huh?” Feyre raised a brow before hearing a small chuckle. When that corrupt Fae had taken Feyre, he had allowed her a simple visit once (to y/n's knowledge, she never trusted Feyre's sisters to tell her the truth about her visits). Through this, Y/n was unable to see her best friend even the off chance she would come back over the border. From the mouth of the middle sister, Elaine, Feyre had asked them to send message that she was okay and not to worry as she would see Y/n soon. This was before the Archerons gained the financial backing of the very Fae that stole Feyre. It was a jarring image of a once fragile Elaine (although still beautiful) now adorned in clean and well sewn dress. The whole situation was still sour in Y/n's mouth.

“Not even. I knew you would get out, don’t discredit my teaching skills like that.” Pulling back from Y/n, Feyre couldn’t help the smile that took over her features, as if analyzing the girl's condition, before embracing the Y/n once again.

When returning to the oddly taller Feyre's embrace, a slight brush of skin coming from the girl upon Y/n's cheek startled her slightly. Only then did Y/n take note of the small physical change her friend had adorned.

“Woah there," She pulled away turning Feyre's head to the side while scaling her appendage with confusion, " you are going to poke my eye out with this.”

Lightly flicking the now sharpened ear Feyre took in a breath, turning her head back and taking her wrist, gently pulling it down to rest still intertwined by her side. Sensing the slight nervousness from Feyre, Y/n pulled her inside fully positioning herself to begin closing the door, scanning the area to make sure nobody had seen her best friend enter.

“They kind of suit you Fey, but I do expect a full explanation." The breath Feyre held released and an easy smile lifted her face once again. She knew Y/n would still be on her side. The countless days they spent together, the things they learned together, the secrets they share. Feyre's body visibly relaxed realizing that despite all that her best friend had heard and experienced with Fae, she truly just cared that Feyre was okay. "Although, if you plan on going outside, I demand you take the hood I made for our hunts. The bigger one. I don't need any nosey neighbor seeing you and coming for your head with a spike.

“Of course.” The door shut behind them before the Feyre realized as she lost her train of thought and why she was truly here. Quickly, as if the little lock clicking switched her brain back to focus, she rushed out a quick, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything, you know that.” Y/n slightly scorned as she turned away to go heat up some drinks for the two of them in the kitchen. Seriously, she didn’t care about the trouble; she was just happy her friend was back and healthy (although the new appendages did have her at a bit of a loss). Feyre smiled before making way over to the small living room, sitting down on one of the now plush seats that sat around the fire. It was updated from when she last remembered this room. Back then it was colder, less like home, but the little decorative flares of Y/n brought the small and impoverished place to life.

“Me and some friends have to try and talk to my sisters into helping us win a war,” She stated. Rip the band aid off and all.

“Don’t see how they are going to be much help.” Y/n couldn’t help but mutter but given the slightly scorning glare from Feyre she raised her hands in submission. “Just saying��.”

“As I was saying, a few of my friends need to rest for the night before going over there. Is it okay if we take a couple days and stay here whilst we try and figure out how this is all going to work?” Y/n smiled before setting a cup of warmed tea beside her friend.

"Are they..." Y/n didn't know how to go about asking without making it sound like her best friend was a monster now, but Feyre understood once she trailed off.

"Yes." Looking off to the side Y/n watched as her best friend's face bloomed into a smile she thought only reserved for when they were together. As if Y/n's heart couldn't get any warmer. "I do have to add though, they have some extra... Attributes."

Y/n quirked her brow in question, but if their heritage was any louder than Feyre's in front of her, if word got out that she willingly let them in, it wouldn't end well.

To put it bluntly, Fey was asking something of her that could get her maimed, tortured and killed.

“Of course.” She replied without much else behind her reasoning aside from the love she had for who asked her. Feyre’s friends were hers (despite the rather ominous implication of attributes) and she lived with loyalty for the girl. Plus, she had an inkling one of the reasons Feyre looked so happy and healthy was from these ‘friends’ so she didn’t mind as much.

Without missing a beat, the fae girl looked to Y/n with warmth and took a drink of her warmed beverage.

“I missed you.” Feyre spoke as another knock sounded at the door.

“Have they been outside this whole time?!" The possibility of the 'friends' being seen while waiting outside the house sent Y/n into a flurry of motion to open the door again. With her Feyre chuckling behind her. Without so much a glance to who she was inviting in, Y/n had ushered them in quickly. “In, in! It’s cold and I don't need the town coming for my head sooner rather than later.”

The girl didn’t even give herself time to process that two of them had wings and the third no doubted was simply hiding them as his stature imitated the other two.

Shutting the door, a beat of silence passed over the house as she truly looked at each man.

There where Fae in her house... Three rather large male Fae.

The attributes comment made sense now.

Y/n took a shaky breath with a wavering 'okay~' to follow before darting off to the small kitchen to prep herself and provide some hospitality to the newfound friends of Feyre.

Only for a second however, for she returned with three more mugs of the warm drink that Feyre was already halfway done with.

“These are for you.” Y/n emphasized keeping her voice steady as she handed them the steaming beverage. One of them had glanced at Feyre in a slight question as she raised her mug towards him.

"It's better than I remembered actually." Feyre's statement had Y/n glancing over to her but assumed that the conversation between them had taken place a time ago. He had taken a sip with the assurance and nodded in appreciation at the beverage.

"Thank you." His voice was smooth, that with his partnered purple eyes, Y/n had shrunk slightly under his gaze. Although it was nice of him to show an appreciation. The other two next had also nodded along, Y/n didn't see them take a swig but assumed they had tried it as well.

“Please, sit and make yourself comfortable.” The human girl mentioned to the couches and took the opportunity to analyze more closely the people in her house. The one who talked was the shortest, but not by much. His stature was also the leanest, but she doubted it meant any lack of strength with the way his posture stood. Following him was one of the winged ones. Taller, in fact looking over him again Y/n believed him to be the tallest of the bunch. He was the strongest looking out of the three, with longer hair and red stones adorning his attire. The final man to take a seat seemed to be the most reluctant to do so. Adorned with blue stones that seemed to pulse with his slight nerves that Y/n spotted above his brow bone, she imagined he was just as hesitant as she was. His gaze was unwavering as he briefly met Y/n's, the color hazel had her lost in them. However, that wasn't the only thing that caught her attention, but the silk tendrils of what looked like smoke that wove through the air around him. Even in the sheer moments it took for them to situate themselves, Y/n found herself engrossed in watching the way they danced through the air.

It was then she realized she wasn't scared of them, at least not that one

As they placed themselves, Y/n met eyes with her best friend once more, catching the furrowed expression on Feyre's face as she attempted to read her. Upon catching Y/n's eyes trailing the last male, that notorious shit eating grin spread over her face but hid it with the ceramic mug still in her hands.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at the girl.

As they sat, purple eyes were next to Feyre, red stone guy in the middle and blue man closest to her on the homemade seating. Luckily, she had made another seat not too long ago when she was sick and couldn't hunt for the week, this was where she situated herself. Although, it didn't help that the most distracting man was sat not a couple feet away from her. Not that she minded, just the slight breeze of the darkness countered the heat of the being which already had her attention drawn over to him in curiosity. As the men with wings shifted the tug of nerves in her chest seemed to relax when he specifically folded his wings slightly behind himself to make room on the couch. If he caught her staring at him, he didn't make any motion in showing her.

“Normally we wouldn’t just crash into a place like this unexpectedly, but we thought the best idea was to configure what was going to happen these next few days.” The wingless one started, breaking the ice quickly and efficiently. Y/n nodded along and offered a small smile but glad that she didn't have to start the conversation with such strong presences in the room.

“That's understandable.” Y/n offered a small nod as she caught Feyre's gaze. One thing the Archeron girl knew for sure was that Y/n didn't want to step on any toes or speak out of turn. This was a new area for her despite how these males where family now to Feyre. So, as Feyre watched Y/n look towards her with a slight ask for an introduction all she could do was nod and allow her to initiate it herself.

Trial by fire and all that. Feyre knew she would be fine but a part of her couldn't help but glean with amusement as she had never seen her best friend so hesitant. Just as she knew she would, the human girl spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but what are your names?" Y/n had tried with all her being to keep her head about her and steady her vocal cords. For this however she suffered the price of being quiet. "I don't want to be rude and refer to you by your colors."

"Colors?" The red stoned one inquired. It wasn't taunting or teasing, but simply curious and slightly amused in tone. Without so much as opening up her mouth to speak, Y/n pointed a hesitantly to the man closest to hers' stone on his hand.

An almost silent chuckle from the said man next to her caused a small heat to run its course to her face before she sipped her drink quickly to cover the color that followed. It wasn’t unnoticed by Feyre who all but whipped her head to her and looked between the two of them. Her eyes widened and shot a look back at the wingless man, again that same smirk adorned her face. He seemed to nod her way before starting. It sent Y/n into a small spiral.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." The breath was caught in Y/n's throat. "Here you have Cassian, my lead general for my armies,” mentioning towards the red rock male accompanied by a small wave by the man. He seemed to try and break the ice slightly by offering a large grin towards the girl, “and Azriel, my Spymaster.”

The weight of who exactly sat in her little house sat heavily on Y/n's shoulders. These weren't just Fae; these people were important and extremely powerful.

The nerves that were settling tidal waved her body again. However, with or without her knowledge, a slight breeze against her ankle had her thoughts disrupted and nerves paused as her attention was taken back to the more broodish male next to her. His eyes seemed to have been gaging her reaction prior to her catching him as he held the gaze for a moment. Y/n was thankful for the reprieve as she still let herself linger on his outline.

The Spymaster slightly bowed his head in her direction and she did it back out of pure instinct to brush off the ogling she had obviously been doing. Without noticing a small hand brushed Rhys across the room to assess the building curiosity and tension of the two.

Without Y/n's knowledge, during Feyre's time in the night court, she had recalled memories of Y/n and her while telling her new family about the few happy memories she had back in the human lands. The males in the room had all known about the human best friend prior, even holding her in a very high regard through the love and care that she had for their now high lady. As Feyre had gone more in depth with these memories, conversations over wine and late-night chats with the inner court had taken place, most of these concluding that Y/n would not only be an asset amongst them but someone's (specifically a silent-type spymaster) favorite person to talk to.

Feyre had insisted behind closed doors to her mate that the two would be a match made by the gods. Seeing them in person, Rhys couldn't help but agree.

Their personalities eerily matched, the strength. Hells, even their outward looks matched each other.

Taking a breath, the human girl let the conversation continue.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you." Going on out on a limb Y/n had cleared her throat, "Any friend of Feyre is a friend of mine so please make yourselves at home and I will add more servings to dinner tonight.” Quickly, Y/n excused herself before she could make a fool out of herself once again with her eyes towards a certain man. She opened the pantry to grab some of the preserved meat to begin a marinade and placed it on the counter.

More hushed whispers made its way into the room from no doubt her friend poking for information, but Y/n paid no mind and allowed herself to become engrossed in the work ahead of her upon realizing that she would need to go out before the sun set any further to get some more supplies for the week as her stock was not enough as is.

In the other room, the high lady was all but giddy.

“What was that?” Feyre asked towards the shadowsinger. The lot turned to look at Azriel, all expecting some sort of answer.

"I don't know what you mean." Bluntly put, he didn't. To go more in depth with the strangeness of the past couple minutes, he had tacked it up to the budding affections for the woman based on the loving stories he had heard from Feyre, nothing more. Although the others where not convinced in the slightest.

"She seems sweet, hesitant, but sweet." He attempted to take the attention away from himself before Rhys knocked back the rest of the tea in his mug.

“Keep telling yourself that.” He smirked and turned towards his mate. Cassian, ever so clueless, gave a shrug and turned towards Feyre as well.

“I agree though, she is nice.” He began, “I thought humans hated us.”

“They do, you will see that when you meet my sisters and evidentially the queens.” Feyre began, also playing with the homemade ceramic cup as she had finished moments ago. “Y/n is different. She doesn’t judge and is loyal to no end. If you three showed up without me asking for help she probably would've shot you," Cassian winced but nodded at the image, "however she has made it clear growing up together that anyone that gained my trust has gained hers.”

"Well, hopefully we can all gain another ally here in the human lands. Give someone Azriel can bunk with when he's over here." The smug tone in Rhys's voice was obvious. The Spymaster stiffened in his spot at the inclination and tease but relaxed upon hearing the girl return from the kitchen, realizing she had most likely not heard the comment. Although, he didn't understand why he was so on edge around the female.

“Now I don’t have that many bedrooms, and by that many I mean I have two. You four should be able to fit fine as long as a pair of you share, there are only three beds.” The human girl began sitting down ever so slightly closer, to who she now knows as Azriel, and then continued. “I’ll be down here on the couch so you all can have your privacy.”

The aspect of the girl before him sleeping on an uncomfortable plush chair didn’t jive the best with Azriel as he watched Cassian turn towards her and give one of his show stopping smiles with a small ‘Thanks’ to follow. She returned it and then looked towards Rhys offering herself slightly. She seemed more confident now, settled with the information that had been piled onto her prior.

“If you guys want some privacy, I can go make myself busy for a couple hours. I need to see if there is any migration in the hunt this year so I can start curing it. The sun is setting soon so I need to go sooner rather than later” Feyre turned towards her with a confused startle, one that Y/n took as her calling her out on trying to leave. "I just need to be gone for a bit, it'll give you all time and me time to make sure you also weren't found." She attempted to assure, but that wasn't what had Feyre so obviously now upset.

“You still hunt?” The girl knew the dangers of the woods just outside the door purely because Y/n had taught her such, but why would she still need to exert herself and put herself in danger, Feyre didn't know. She was still young, older than Feyre had been prior to meeting Rhys yes, but why she would willingly still put herself at risk was a loss to the group. All of them had the understanding that a specific high lord was supposed to provide for the loved ones of Feyre. Call it protective instinct, but they had grown slightly attached to the girl, even more so now that they had officially met. "Y/n, why would you still go out and hunt. I mean I know you like your time and I this house holds memories, so I see why you stayed despite it all..." Y/n had tilted her head in question, taking a moment as Feyre continued to speak. "But you taught me yourself, it isn't safe out there and to put yourself in danger unnecessarily seems reckless."

It clicked with Y/n upon hearing her best friend finish her thoughts. The hunch that she had about the Fae and Feyre's sister's status came back into her mind as all her theories about her being left for the wolves (figuratively and literally) were confirmed. Sighing, Y/n placed her bow around her back, looking to Feyre with warmth. She had to try and break this gently as not to further ruin the strained relationship amongst her sisters.

“The Fae you bargained with said he would provide for your family, loved ones...” All tension left her as understanding emanated through her pores, it was almost palpable. He didn't know why, but as she met Feyre’s eyes made Azriel’s heart throb, “I’m not blood related Feyre.”

"That shouldn't have mattered. I said family and loved ones. The aid that came to Elain and Nesta should've been extended to you as well." A small wince ricocheted off Y/n's features, but she schooled it back quickly as to not enrage the fae woman more.

"They needed it more."

The realization upon the girl's face crushed Y/n slightly and she backtracked quickly.

“Don’t worry though! It’s not like I had any family to care for since everyone left so my sources weren't drained as much,” She winced as almost all eyes turned to her as she was not helping her case, “Hunting isn’t too bad lately and I have some leftover stock when I need it.”

“He didn’t help you. They didn't help you...” Y/n chuckled before pure disbelief rooted from Feyre’s. “Ace, I am so sorry. I thought you would be involved in the aid or that they would make sure you got some, I didn’t mean for you to be left-”

The nickname pulled strings within Y/n's heart, all the while everyone in the room had felt theirs crack and fill with flames towards the high lord of spring and the blood relatives of Feyre.

“Angel, it’s okay. To be honest it didn’t register with me either until the riches came for your family and I was left.” The boys glanced towards the human girl, one looked prolonged and had an urge to send her a comforting word despite his confused mentality. Rhys sensed the distress his mate still felt as she watched Y/n try to break the awkwardness as she slipped the bow off her shoulders and picked up her quiver. All the while Azriel couldn’t control the small lick of shadows that wrapped around her ankle and gently rippled towards her in a comforting manner, pulling her gently back to the sitting room and hearth.

“What is this?” She questioned before reaching out and having another small tendril wrap around her wrist and lay in her palm almost as if looking at her. The swirl of the black and what seemed to be a small abyss entrapped her attention as an Illyrian held his breath in a slight surprise. “Well, hello.”

The shadow rippled towards her and ran up her arm slowly as she murmured at how pretty it looked. Y/n didn't truly know to what extent the fae's hearing could go as if she did, she most likely would have kept her mouth shut about the beauty of the wisp. Heat had flushed Azriel's ears, subtle enough to hide, but not enough for him to ignore the stir in his chest. Normally, Az would pull the darkness back, not allow them to roam as freely as not to scare someone by accident. However, with the girl's soft expression from her moment with Feyre, and the gentleness that she held her hands out to cup the shadow. He couldn’t help but allow the shadow to explore and settle before the girl’s ear. He allowed the shadows at his back whisper everything they found about her as they did their assessment.

Genuine. Gentle. Keep. We like. We like. Soft. We like.

For a human, Y/n was beautiful, effortlessly so. Azriel didn't need his shadows to tell him that much.

Y/n didn't know if this was offensive to partake in or just a normal weeknight occurrence with the dark tendrils. She had glanced at Feyre from across the room but couldn't catch her eye as she seemed lost in thought.

A breath in her ear startled Y/n so much she jumped. Someone had whispered in her ear, but taking count of everyone as they were, nobody stood next to her. Y/n naturally queried her head and listened further as to hear it again if it decided to repeat its' actions.

“Is it talking to you?” Cassian prompted, almost awestruck. The human gave a quick shake of her head, still remaining quiet.

"No, no. I don't think so anyway." Turning her head back to them again she shrugged, "It just felt like someone breathed against my ear."

"They are cool aren't they?" Feyre goaded from across the room. "When I first met them I couldn't help but want to know more."

"Feyre darling, when you first met them, Cass had to assure you they didn't bite..." A small thwack sounded in the room as Cassian laughed at the memory and now narrowed eyes of the High Lord to his lady.

“They are soft.” She muttered back, not truly focused on the now appeased atmosphere. “They feel soft.” A sigh escaped Azriel in a twisted sense of relief. However, without realizing it, that one breath costed him a split second of control on the wisps as a larger bunch followed the single to where it stood wrapped around the nape of Y/n's neck. As a physical reaction, he had attempted to grab it back, but to no avail.

Y/n had frozen, looking at the Spymaster in a slightly panicked fashion.

"This isn't going to like..." Y/n winced again but deadpanned her features to bring a little humor into the situation, "...kill me, right? I don't think they make headstones explaining 'death by mist' here."

Cassian and Feyre had let out a laugh at the image while Rhys let a smile reach his eyes. As for Azriel, all the poor male could do was shake his head, not trusting his voice. As he watched her, he could've sworn there was a twinkle within her eye at the darkness that normally shrouded him.

It did bring a sense of peace to himself and satisfy an urge he didn’t know he had.

“These things talk to you?" The question rung out of Y/n with confidence. Whatever nerves she had prior with the bunch seeming to truly run from her body. Rhys looked towards the shadow singer in confirmation, while again, Azriel simply nodded his head. This girl truly had him lost for words.

“Well do you all have a name?” The question was not asked towards the bunch in front of Y/n. No, Y/n believed to ask the wisps that were at Az's beck and call if they had a name. Azriel cocked his head. Did she just ask if the shadows had a name? The smile that spread over Azriel's face was almost contagious. A small giggle fascinated him from his thoughts and Y/n noted the ripple of dark that now snuck fully away from the winged man she was undeniably but in denial about being attracted to.

“Is that a weird question?"

"No, not at all." Az tried to play it off, his image was on the line here.

"His shadows are basically an extension of himself Y/n." Cassian slung an arm around the back of the seat to turn more towards her. "It's his 'emotions and unconscious thoughts' type stuff that controls them if he doesn't think about it."

"Oh." Her face flushed. "Oops."

"Don't worry about it." It was rushed, but the assurance hit Y/n as she offered a smile.

“Az, I think your shadows have a new favorite.” Azriel shot Cassian a glare before slightly softening towards the girl. For some reason, he didn’t mind the slight intrusion. The aspect of her being close to something that could protect her and be with her no matter what eased an instinctual itch that he could only remember feeling towards his High lady upon her ascension. This ran deeper, but the itch was there, nonetheless.

“I’m glad you like them." Another small lick of the tendril eased its way behind her ear as the rest slinked back towards the spymaster and he immediately found himself focusing on questioning what they talked about and why they reacted to her in such a way.

Warm. Sneaking glances. Hope.

Busy bodies.

“Oh, they definitely have a new favorite.” Rhys couldn’t help but give a smirk towards Y/n before standing and asking where the rooms were for the night, he wished to wash up from their journey. Jumping, Y/n had corrected herself before reaching for the door, adjusting to the leftover sunlight of the forest.

“Of course! Where are my manners? It's up those stairs and to the left for you two.” She turned to Feyre, “You get my room. You know how to work the bath.”

Grateful, Feyre bowed slightly and sent a wink before following the man up the stairs.

“You two are getting the guest room, there are two beds which should fit,” She shot a look towards the massive wings behind them, “most of you.”

Cassian laughed.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed! I am going to hopefully continue this with little inserts throughout the story to keep it interesting. I had a whole years' worth of one-shots that I am trying to re-vamp to this plot line, but if anyone has any requests do let me know! I don't have anything on my page about requests, but my inbox is open if anyone wants to shoot one my way.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #feyre archeron #azriel x you #azriel acotar #slow burn #azriel x human reader #best friend feyre

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

Text

I Hate It Here

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

The Afterthought: Chapter 2 | series masterlist

part one | part three | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: You are brought back to Velaris against your will, and forced to stay in the city by your supposed family. You slip into old memories and imaginings of the life you could be living whenever able, terrified of your new situation.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, slight disordered eating, toxic family, shitty Inner Circle, mentions of slut-shaming uhhh I don't think there's anything else

Words: 6.7k

Author's Note: it's heeere I'm so excited for this part! I hope you guys all like it, I know I made a few... choice decisions in certain places lol. Poor girly with the bathtub 😫 but the ending in this part is not near as sad as it was going to be. Hope you like iiiit 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

You weren't sure how long you had been walking, hardly registering where you were going when he appeared in front of you.

Azriel.

You shook your head at him. You wouldn't consent to going anywhere with him.

Feyre would be the next to accuse you of being a whore if you did...

"Come with me, Y/N. You're going to freeze to death out here," Azriel said quietly, extending a hand to you.

"No. I don't belong there."

He let out a long sigh. "You belong with your sisters. Just come with me. Feyre is worried."

"Feyre is..." You scoffed. "Feyre is worried? Was she worried when I didn't show up for dinner that everyone was at? Or only when I was no longer in that city? Because from where I'm standing, no one in that city has cared for me in months. So no, I don't belong with my sisters. I belong with humans. Now let. Me. Leave," you hissed at him, legs already moving to walk past him and continue your journey.

"You'll die tonight, if you don't come back," Azriel informed you, as though you hadn't already realized that.

"And the world would be just the same without me in it."

Another long, heavy sigh from behind you- then arms were wrapped around your middle, holding you tight as you fought against him with all of your pathetic, human strength. You managed to rip a nail through his wing, causing him to hiss in pain and drop you. Before you could make your way to your feet, he had you in his arms again, this time carrying you through the swirling void of night that accompanied him at all times.

A moment later you were back in that house, in the middle of the living room where the rest of the inner circle was sitting, all eyes on you.

Azriel's arms dropped from your waist in an instant, the warmth of his body leaving your side as he took his place, leaning against the wall next to the fireplace.

"What were you thinking?" Feyre asked angrily as she stood from her spot on a couch next to Rhys. "Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you tonight?"

"Do I-" you shook your head. "Of course I know what could have happened to me, I'm just a human. Any single person in Prythian could kill me if they wanted to."

"So why did you leave?" Rhys asked quietly, in a tone that you knew meant danger.

You turned your eyes back to Feyre, doing your best to ignore her mate who still terrified you. "Do you remember what day it is, High Lady?"

Feyre looked confused for a moment, before understanding filled her eyes. "Oh, Y/N... I... I forgot. We were celebrating finally getting the Illyrians to let females train whenever they want," she explained, but you weren't buying it.

"Oh, well that's fine. You forget the day that I spent over a week preparing for, the entire day cooking for, all to celebrate something that just happened. Did you once think to find me? To invite me to this celebration?" Feyre's silence was enough of an answer for you. "I don't belong here. You should have left me in the human lands, thinking you all died. I would have been happier that way. Nesta and Elain hate me, I cannot speak to Lucien or Cassian out of fear that their mates will kill me, the rest of you ignore me unless I've done something wrong. I do not belong here," you hissed, doing your best to throw all of your hurt and rage into your words.

"You do belong here, Y/N," Feyre said tearily. "You're our sister."

You stared down at her coldly. "Am I? From where I'm standing I am just a weakness for you that you keep close so you won't be hurt. I haven't felt like your sister since I arrived."

"That's not tr-" Feyre started, but you cut her off.

"Take me back."

"What?" Nesta asked sharply from behind you, and you could feel her anger rising, the hairs on your arms standing up.

"Take me back to the human lands. I would rather live alone in poverty than spend one more day living in this place."

"You will not," Nesta snarled, a hand clawing at your shoulder. "You would die within a week with the wall down."

"I managed just fine on my own for three months before Feyre came to get me."

"Nesta is right, Y/N," Rhys said, drawing your eyes back to him. "You will not leave Velaris. Anywhere else is too dangerous for you to be, with your connection to us."

Rage flooded your system like it never had before at the thought of being kept here until you die. "I will not be kept like some prisoner in this city. I refuse."

"You have no choice," Feyre said softly, the final nail in the coffin.

"Then kill me," you said, fully hoping that they would. "Kill me and put me out of my misery, if I am not able to leave this horrible place. I do not belong here, and I do not want to belong here anymore."

Tears were pouring down Feyre's face at your confession, the last sight you saw before you slipped into darkness.

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

When you woke, your body was warm, resting underneath blankets on a comfortable bed.

You could almost imagine that you were back in that hut, surrounded by your sisters as you huddled for warmth.

But it was wrong... your face was too warm, no longer chilled by the slight breeze that rattled through the house in winter, and there was no soft, quiet breathing from your sisters sleeping.

You opened your eyes, met with the familiar pale blue ceiling of your bedroom. You would guess it was the early morning, with how dark it was.

What happened...?

It was difficult, getting your brain to remember how you ended up in your bed... After all, you had hardly slept in it ever since Elain had snapped at you so many months ago, the idea of another door keeping you safe too comforting to not indulge in.

But once you remembered... ice cold terror flooded your body.

You had been in the middle of yelling at Feyre- at all of them. And suddenly now you were in your bed?

Rhysand had used his powers on you.

And you were helpless to stop it.

You turned onto your side and curled into yourself for a moment, hoping that making yourself smaller would be enough to loosen the fear gripping your heart. After a minute, you gave up, standing from your bed and pulling a thick blanket and soft pillow with you into the bathroom, making your safe little nest in the bathtub.

The blanket and pillow you had used last were still there, adding extra cushion and much needed warmth to the metal tub.

So you curled up, a pillow at your back and your knees pulled to your chest as you huddled under one blanket and pulled the edges of the bottom one up, cocooning yourself in soft cotton.

Sleep found you easily, your body and mind exhausted still from the disappointment and realizations of last night.

Your dreams were filled by half memories, half imaginings of being back in that little run down cottage, your sisters and father around you as you huddled in front of the fire, drinking hot water from chipped mugs.

"Y/N?" Feyre's voice asked, waking you from your sleep. You raised your head for a moment, considering answering her. But your recent interactions with her had you placing your head back on its pillow, tucking your knees further against your chest, ignoring the way your body had started to ache. She knocked on the bathroom door once, twice. "Just... come out when you're ready, Y/N. There's breakfast downstairs if you'd like." Feyre sighed, loud enough for even your ears to hear, but walked away, leaving you in blissful silence.

You let yourself drift off again, conjuring images of you curled up in front of the fire, your head in your father's lap just how he'd let you when you were a child.

The next time you woke, your bladder forced you awake, and by the time you had relieved yourself the muscles in your body were screaming for some kind of movement. You walked around your room for a few minutes and stretched your body, sighing as some of the tension left it.

All too soon, your stomach was growling at you, angry with you for having ignored it for... however long you had been asleep.

Sighing, you moved back to the bathroom and disassembled your makeshift bed, replacing the fabrics where they initially belonged so that you could bathe before going downstairs.

The last thing you wanted was for Nesta and Elain to make snide comments at you.

You tied your hair up in a bun- you didn't feel like going through the effort of washing it at the moment. After drawing the bath, tendrils of steam coming from the water, you stripped yourself of the pink dress you had worn for Bounty Day and slipped into the water. Your muscles eased quickly, the heat of the bath drawing out the stress they carried.

You nearly fell asleep again, and if not for the gnawing of your stomach you would have let yourself, as the tub had an enchantment to keep the water warm until emptied. But you forced yourself to wash, using a soft cloth and a lovely lavender and orange soap bar that you had picked out a few months ago while shopping for Nesta's birthday.

Once you deemed yourself clean enough, you stood from the bath, nearly slipping as you stepped out. A disappointed sigh left your lips and you shook your head at your foolish, human clumsiness.

You dried off quickly and padded back into your bedroom. You slipped on a simple white cotton dress, and a pale pink dressing robe over the top. After putting on your slippers, you stood in front of the door, steeling yourself for whatever you would face outside of your room. A deep breath in, then out, and you opened the door, stepping into the hallway.

The walk to the kitchen was quick, and it was blissfully empty when you entered. You set about making a pot of tea for yourself, bringing water to a boil in a kettle on the stove. While it was heating up, you grabbed one of the trays used for when someone wanted breakfast in bed and placed a teapot and cup on it, as well as a bowl.

You looked around the kitchen, scrunching your face at the options available. Your eyes caught on the windows looking out to the garden, noting the stars in the sky.

Just how long had you slept for...?

Shaking your head, you turned back to the bowl of fruit sitting on the counter. Your hands reached for an apple almost big enough in size that you couldn't grasp it.

You grabbed a small cutting board from a cabinet and a knife out of the block, then washed the apple before setting it on the board. The kettle was just starting to whistle, and you removed it from the heat before it could wake anyone sleeping upstairs. After you measured out a small amount of tea leaves into the teapot's helpful strainer, you poured enough water in to make at least three cups of tea. You were making a soothing lavender and chamomile blend, one that never failed to send you to a dreamless sleep after having a few cups.

Leaving it to steep, you returned to the cutting board, carefully cutting the apple into small slices. Once it was cut, you placed the slices into the bowl on your tray, then washed the cutting board and knife, leaving them in the drying rack.

You removed the strainer from the teapot after deeming it to be strong enough, and emptied the leaves into the trash before washing it as well.

All that was left was to carry your bounty upstairs, without waking a soul.

Tray in your arms, you made your way back up the stairs and into your bedroom, letting out a small sigh of relief once you had closed the door behind you. The tray was placed on your desk, and you took your seat.

The first pour of tea was always your favorite, as it was always at the perfect temperature. You brought the steaming cup of tea to your lips, closing your eyes as you took the first soothing sip, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

The apple was delicious, crisp and sweet and tasting of autumn. You made sure to savor the taste- you weren't sure when you would next venture out of your room, seeing as you were still terrified to see any who would be in the River House.

Even your sisters... Though Feyre was the main change, you supposed, seeing as she had let her mate use his powers on you, when she had promised that neither she or Rhys would ever do so.

Your second cup of tea was still warm and soothing as you finished off the apple, but when you got to the third and final cup, it was only lukewarm.

A problem that any of your sisters would surely be able to solve...

By the time you finished your tea, you were tired enough to fall back sleep, but first you forced yourself to return to the kitchen, feet stepping carefully on your journey to stay undiscovered. You washed your dishes quickly and returned the tray to its rightful place, then made your way back upstairs.

Your door was shut behind you, another successful mission in avoiding those you once considered family.

The bathtub had dried, and you brought your blankets and pillows back in with you, reassembling your makeshift bed once again. Your crawled between the blankets, content to stay between them forever as warmth cocooned you. Your mind drifted, once again conjuring scenes of you living with father once more, tending to your little herb garden and cooking to your hearts content.

Two weeks- or perhaps more- passed in the same manner, with Feyre knocking on your bathroom door every morning or so and waking you from your slumber. In the nights you would crawl from your blankets and return to the kitchen for a pot of tea and whatever fruit or vegetables were available and easy enough to eat without cooking.

Your stomach had protested loudly for the first week before settling back into the cold, quiet hunger that your body had adapted to for most of its life.

One morning, your solitude was broken by Morrigan pounding on your bedroom door, jolting you from your sleep and driving fear into your heart.

"Come to the door, Y/N, or I won't leave!" She yelled from behind the wood, persistent knocks following her words.

You sighed and turned your head back into your pillow, determined to ignore her.

"I brought you tea! Please just come to the door, Y/N? You can tell me to leave and take the tea, even," the fae offered, and your stomach rumbled in response.

Tea... wouldn't be bad, you thought to yourself.

But you hadn't bathed...

Morrigan's knocking only grew louder as you debated with yourself, fear and hunger warring in your mind.

"Y/N!"

You grumbled to yourself as you rose from your spot, shouting "I'll be right there!" when her knocking somehow continued to increase in volume. You opened the bathroom door and headed to your wardrobe, tugging a dressing gown over your nightgown.

Turning the door's handle was difficult, fear of the unknown still lingering in your gut, but the blonde on the other side of the door was in fact holding a tray of tea when you finally managed to open the door.

"Good morning!" Morrigan chirped, a bright smile on her face as she met your eyes. Her warm chocolate eyes seemed genuine, allowing some of the tension in your body to leave as you looked at the tray.

A pot of tea, two cups, and a plate of diced fruit, cheeses, and smoked meats.

She obviously wanted to join you... And she had been kind enough to bring you not only tea but food as well. That made up your mind.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked quietly, stepping aside to let her into your bedroom.

"I would love to, thank you Y/N." Morrigan breezed in and placed the tray on top of your bed before taking a seat on one side, feet pulled up so she was sitting with her legs folded in front of her.

You shut the door and followed her, taking a seat on the opposite side while she poured tea into a cup. She handed one to you first, warmth instantly flowing into your fingers, before pouring her own.

You took a small sip, closing your eyes at the bright taste of mint and ginger. "I... Thank you, Morrigan."

"Oh, call me Mor, Y/N. And it was really no trouble, I've..." She paused. "I've wanted to talk to you, check in on you after everything that happened. I know that we haven't talked much, since you came to Velaris, but I would like to change that. I know what it is like to feel so out of place that you can barely fathom living... I know how difficult it can be, when you don't have the support you need," Mor confessed. "I do wish I had noticed how uncomfortable you felt, before you had to tell us so bluntly."

Tears pricked your eyes as she talked. You wished it had been the same, as well.

"It isn't your fault, Mor..." you sighed. "You don't have the same... Not responsibility to me, but the past connection. And it is not as though you were the one to bring me here."

Mor gave you a sad smile, her eyes understanding. "I know, but you are a part of this family, and you are supposed to feel like you are as well."

You nodded your head in agreement, though you didn't quite agree. You felt... You felt as though your family had been lost to you, long before you came to Velaris.

The two of you sipped on your tea in a comfortable silence for a while, your eyes darting down to the small spread of food frequently, until your stomach made its discomfort known. Loudly.

Instead of Mor reprimanding you for it, or telling you to eat, she simply began eating herself- something you were grateful for. You followed her lead, slowly eating a few pieces of what she had brought up. Between the food and the several cups of tea, your stomach felt pleasantly warm and full, more than it had been in a long while.

"I have an idea, if you're up for it," Mor offered once the two of you had finished both the tea and food, her brown eyes looking at you hopefully.

"What did you have in mind?" You asked, mind already wandering to what she might ask you. Maybe a favor for Feyre, to get you to talk with her?

"I have a little skincare routine that I do every morning, and even though your skin is absolutely gorgeous as is, I thought that maybe you would like to join me? It's one of the few things that helps me feel a bit better when I'm having a rough day."

You blinked at her for a moment, the idea of her wanting to spend more time with you not having crossed your mind.

"I... I'm not sure that I would be any good at it..."

"Oh, nonsense! It's pretty simple, and I'll help you out with it. And if you hate it, we can stop at any point. Please?" She asked with so much sincerity that you nodded in agreement. The smile on her face when you did made you feel nice, and like she wasn't being forced into spending time with you.

"Yay!" Mor cheered. "I'll be back with everything in a few minutes. Do you want me to bring another pot of tea as well?" Mor asked, a sparkle in her eyes.

"If it's not any trouble for you, please," you replied, eyes tracking her as she stood from your bed and brought the tray back into her arms.

"Of course it isn't, Y/N. I'll be back in a little bit, okay?"

You nodded, and stood from the bed to open the door for her, shutting it softly behind her.

So far... This morning was nice. Mor is nice.

She returned in a few minutes, a fresh pot of tea and her supplies on the tray.

Over the next hour, she helped you cleanse and moisturize your skin, doing the same herself. You felt silly at first wearing the clay mask that she had spread over your face, but seeing Mor in it as well made you feel giggly, the two of you laying on your bed and talking about clothes. She made you promise to let her take you shopping once you felt ready to leave the house again, and you had her promise to teach you to do your makeup- though in softer colors than the bold reds and black that she preferred.

You drank most of the second pot of tea, happily consuming it, and along with the pleasant company of Mor, you were feeling warmer and more alive than you had since Bounty Day.

"So... Do you feel a little better?" Mor asked after you had both rinsed your faces and applied one last layer of moisturizer, this one smelling of strawberries.

You thought about it for a moment- you felt lighter than you had in months. "I do. Thank you again, Mor. This was really nice," you said, a small smile on your lips as you looked at her.

"Good, I'm glad. If you want to do it again, say... Tomorrow, just let me know," Mor said with a bright grin on her face.

"I... I'd like that very much, Mor," you said sheepishly, still in slight disbelief that she wanted to spend time with you.

"I'll stop by at the same time tomorrow, then." Mor gathered her things and left your room, leaving you in silence once more.

As much as you had enjoyed her company, you felt... tired, now. You glanced out the window, noting that snow was falling on an already thick layer coating the ground and buildings below.

You hadn't known it had snown at all recently.

With a shake of your head, you brushed that thought off and returned to the bathroom, your blankets-

Oh gods, you thought to yourself. Did Mor notice?

You were slightly ashamed that you felt unsafe enough to sleep in the perfectly comfortable bed you had been given, but... You couldn't bring yourself to care enough to move back into the bedroom to sleep. Instead, you burrowed yourself into your blankets once again, telling yourself that someday you would sleep in the bed again.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your time with Mor the next morning became a daily occurrence for the next week, and a way for you to better tell the passing of time.

Feyre had stopped coming to your bathroom door every morning, replaced instead by the blonde that you were getting closer to considering a real friend.

One morning, you woke early enough to take a bath before Mor showed up at your door. You had just finished dressing when you heard arguing outside of your door.

"I will not ask her for you, Feyre. You can go in there and ask her yourself, but I am not going to use my friendship with her for your benefit. Once you work up the balls, come back. She might talk to you then," Mor said angrily to your sister.

That shocked you.

"I'm not trying to use-" Feyre paused. "Fine, I will come back later."

"Good. Now go away, I don't want you to scare her."

A few seconds later, Mor knocked on your door. You opened it, and found her carrying the usual- a pot of tea, plate of food, and plenty of her skincare products.

Besides her argument with Feyre, your morning together went as usual, and you had nearly forgotten about the incident until Mor was about to leave.

A knock on the door had both Mor's and your heads snapping to it.

Mor sighed. "I should be going, then, Y/N. Just... Hear her out, for a moment at least?"

Your scrunched your nose up but nodded. "Thank you, Mor. Will I see you tomorrow?"

Mor's head bobbed as she picked up her things. "Yes, but the next few days I'll be staying in the Hewn City, they tend to get a little more problematic the closer we come to Starfall," Mor explained.

Your heart sank a little bit, but you smiled at her anyways. "I hope it goes well. I know you don't enjoy being there much." You almost wished you could go with her, to be out of this city for a little while.

"Thank you, Y/N," Mor said with an appreciative smile. "Would you get the door?"

"Of course." You did so, opening it to see a nervous looking Feyre. Mor passed by her and headed down the hallway. "Would..." You hesitated. "Would you like to come in?"

Feyre smiled at you, one filled with tension. "I would, thank you." She followed you into your room, closing the door behind her and coming a few feet into the room, leaving at least your height's distance between you. "I wanted to speak with you about something- well, ask you something, more."

"Okay..."

"I- Would you be willing to come to dinner tomorrow night?"

You stared at her in confusion. "Why tomorrow?"

Feyre's brow furrowed at your question. "It's your birthday tomorrow."

Oh.

You had forgotten your own birthday. It didn't surprise you much, with how distant your mind had been recently. Only in the past week had you fully recognized the passage of time, thanks to Mor's visits each morning.

"Oh, uhm... I-" you paused. Dinner would mean... seeing Nesta and Elain and Rhys. "Uhm. Would... Who would be there...?"

"All of the Inner Circle, I think," Feyre replied, a frown on her face when she saw your own. "What's wrong?"

You were silent for a moment, trying to come up with something that wouldn't make you sound as weak as the truth. But nothing came to mind quickly enough, with Feyre still staring at you with her worried blue eyes.

"I'm... I'm afraid of Nesta and Elain... And Rhys," you admitted, looking at the floor.

Feyre sighed. "I'm sorry about what I had him do, Y/N. I really, truly am. You were just so panicked and talking-" Feyre paused to close her eyes, one tear making its way down her cheek. "Hearing you explain how you were feeling, I wanted you to have time to calm down some. I didn't... I didnt know how horribly you feel living here, Y/N."

It was your turn to sigh. "If... If you get Nesta and Elain to behave- or at least not say anything nasty to me- I will come to dinner."

"Really?" Feyre asked, her watery eyes looking into yours. "I was already able to convince Elain to bake a cake for you- your favorite, white chocolate raspberry. And Nuala and Cerridwen were more than happy to make your favorites."

Your heart lifted in your chest. "You really planned a dinner for me?" You asked hopefully, willing them to not be crushed.

"I did, Y/N. It's the least I could do, with everything I haven't been doing."

You nearly reached for her, to pull her into a hug. But-

You were still afraid, still upset at being kept in Velaris.

She would have to earn your trust back.

"Thank you, Feyre. I'll see you tomorrow night."

Feyre nodded at you, a small smile on her face. She turned to leave, but paused before she did, as though she wanted to say something else. Instead, she left your room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Dinner tomorrow...

You sighed. It will be fine. It has to be.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning, you woke with an awful cramping in your stomach, your body feeling slightly like you had the flu.

One use of the restroom proved that was not so.

Your cycle had come.

On your birthday. Just your luck.

Thankfully you had woken early enough that Mor was likely still sleeping, the sun's rays just barely peeking over the horizon.

You could take a bath. A nice, scalding bath to soothe the aches of your cycle. And you did just that, soaking in the water until the sun had risen.

Still, you felt dirty climbing out of the bath. Every cycle, you felt more and more disgusting with each vile look Nesta and Elain would throw at you.

Nesta and Elain... You would have to see them today.

Tears filled your eyes at the thought of dealing with them later.

At least you would still have your morning with Mor.

You finished dressing just before Mor arrived, tying your dressing gown as she knocked on your door.

"Good morning, Y/N," she said after you let her in, her arms filled with the usual fare. "Do you want a pain potion or anything, sweets?" Mor asked after she set the tray down on your bed.

"No, I'll manage fine," you said, still disappointed that everyone else can scent your cycle.

Mor nodded her head in understanding. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free to come to me for one. I know your cycles aren't quite like mine, but they're painful nonetheless. But for now, Y/N, I'd like to wish you a very happy birthday. Feyre says you're turning twenty?"

You bobbed your head in confirmation as the two of you took your seats on your bed. "Yes, we're just a few days under a year age difference." Mor poured out tea for the both of you, today it was your favorite lavender and chamomile blend. "Do you... Do you know what Feyre has planned for this evening?" You asked nervously.

If you knew what to expect, maybe it wouldn't be as bad.

"Well, there's the dinner, obviously, and I do believe that we all got you a gift- at least I did, and Elain made a delicious looking cake for you! I do think that's all, though, Feyre thought you wouldn't like a huge celebration right now."

"Feyre would be right... I'm nervous enough as it is..."

Mor smiled softly at you. "You know what will help with that?"

"What?"

"Doing our skincare! It'll get your mind off of tonight!"

You shook your head at her. "I should've guessed, Mor," you laughed, but followed her into the bathroom anyways.

And Mor was right, as she usually was.

The two of you dozed off on your bed while you had masks on, only waking up once Mor accidentally kicked you in her sleep.

The two of you were still giggly by the time she left your room, your spirits much higher thanks to the lovely blonde that had become your friend over the past week.

By the time dinner rolled around, you were cramping more than before, and feeling absolutely exhausted from keeping yourself awake all day.

You hadn't realized how tiring just being awake was, even with your mind traveling back to that little cottage for most of the day.

Still, you bathed once more, a quick one this time, and dressed in a modest, dark green dress.

Now the difficult part... Making it downstairs. In the daytime.

Your hand rested on the doorknob longer than you cared to admit, your body warring with your mind, knowing who was waiting downstairs.

You managed to get out of your room, very slowly making your way downstairs as dread filled your stomach.

Surely Feyre could get your sisters to behave for one night, right?

The dining room of the River House was packed when you finally entered, the entire Inner Circle being present along with Nuala and Cerridwen.

Good- two extra friendly faces could never hurt.

"Y/N!" Feyre exclaimed when she spotted you, and she quickly made her way over to you. Her hands clasped yours. "I'm so glad you came down, sissy," Feyre said, using the old nickname she had given you.

"Me too," you replied, only half meaning it.

"Well, dinner is just about ready if you want to take a seat. Mor and I saved a seat between us for you, if you'd like?" You nodded and let her lead you to your chair, which was next to an excitedly bouncing blonde.

"I can't wait to give you your presents, Y/N. I think that mine are the best!" She boasted.

Your nose crinkled as you smiled at her enthusiasm. "I'm sure everyone's presents are nice, Mor."

"Yes, but mine are the best. You'll see after dinner."

"I'm sure I will..." You said quietly, and it was then that you noticed the eyes on you.

All of the eyes on you.

Nesta was looking at you like she wanted to stab you, or perhaps burn you alive with her silver flames. Elain's look had less outright hatred, but hurt all the same.

Still, they said nothing.

Thankfully, Rhys's eyes looked more concerned than angry, as they had been the last time you had seen him.

You turned your eyes to your plate. White porcelain with delicate silver flowers painted onto the rim. Pretty.

"So, what all do you want?" Mor asked a few minutes later, drawing you back into the present.

You looked up and noticed that dinner had been served, all of your favorite dishes that Nuala and Cerridwen had made for you since you met them on the table.

"A little bit of everything...?" You said, unsure if that would be okay. No one stopped Mor from loading up your plate with a whole lot of everything, leaving you with a dauntingly full dish set in front of you.

There was no way you could eat all of that in one go, with the way you had been eating... Or rather, avoiding eating recently. The most consistent meals you had were your small breakfasts with Mor.

You resolved yourself to eat a small amount of each, and see how you feel then. After all, there was still Elain's best cake to have later.

The dinner was more pleasant than any you remembered, though you hardly spoke to anyone. Mor and Feyre seemed to have picked up on how anxious you were, both of them touching your arm or hand to draw you back to the moment when you stared at your plate too long.

But then it was time to retire to the living room, you seated on the couch across from the fireplace that you had avoided for so long now...

Gifts were given, more than you had anticipated.

Feyre, Elain, and Nesta had all gotten you cookbooks. Feyre's was of traditional Night Court recipes, your favorites marked with bookmarks. Elain had gotten you one on desserts of the Solar Courts. And Nesta had gotten you a book of soup recipes.

All of them would be thoughtful... If they had taught you to read.

Still, you smiled when you opened each one and said thank you, though your heart had sank lower at the reminder that they had forgotten your illiteracy, had forgotten that you barely knew your letters, if that.

Amren's present was next, a pretty set of pink opal jewelry. You smiled at the tiny fae, barely managing to meet her eyes. She was still... unsettling, though she had never done anything to you.

Then Rhys presented his, a book of human fables, explaining that Feyre had mentioned how much you had adored them as a child.

That much was true, but... It was the same problem as with the cookbooks. You thanked him but refused to meet his eyes.

Cassian was next, who had gotten you a box of sweets from the chocolate shop you had gone to a few times, all of them ones that you had ordered more than once. It was thoughtful enough, and you knew if he'd gotten a more personal gift, Nesta might have...

You didn't want to think about that.

Azriel was next after Mor told him that she would be presenting her presents last no matter what. He had gotten you a beautiful teapot and set of teacups, all enchanted to keep the tea at the perfect temperature for up to twelve hours. The bottom was a pale pink that faded into white at the top, with delicate irises painted on the sides. It was perfect.

Along with it, he presented you with a large box of different tea samples.

"Whichever ones you enjoy, let me know and I will buy you full sizes of them, alright?" Azriel asked after presenting you with it, and you nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Azriel."

There were at least ten teas you had never tried before, though these were all from a store that you had never been to.

To say you were excited for all of the new flavors would be an understatement.

Mor sighed after seeing his present. "Mine ties for first, I suppose... Here, Y/N," she said, handing over a large box to you.

You opened it, eyes widening at what was inside. It contained a beautiful pink bedding set, all of the fabric so soft to the touch you wanted to bury yourself in it the moment you felt it. There was a second blanket, one that was buttery soft and in a pale purple.

These would be a wonderful addition to your bedding.

"And... Here," Mor said as she gave you a large bag, this one filled to the brim with skincare and makeup products. "I wanted you to be able to keep up the routine, even while I'm gone. And I picked out some shades I thought would look pretty with your skin tone."

"Thank you, Mor." You leaned over to hug your friend who was seated next to you, so happy that she had thought of you so much.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N."

A few moments later, your presents were covered in shadows before disappearing, and you looked to Azriel.

"They're in your room, I thought it would be easier to have them taken up for you," was his answer. You nodded in acknowledgement.

"How about cake now?" Feyre said excitedly, clapping her hands together as she stood. "Elain, come help me?"

Elain started to follow Feyre, but as Feyre passed Cassian he held out a hand to stop her, nose tilted to the air.

"Feyre... Is...?" He took a few more deep sniffs. "Oh mother, are you pregnant?!" He asked, standing up and embracing her before she could confirm or deny.

"Oh, Feyre, congratulations!" Elain exclaimed, the next to hug her.

"Yes, yes, I'm pregnant," Feyre said shyly. "I wasn't planning to-"

"We have to celebrate!" Cassian announced, already pulling Feyre into the kitchen where everyone else followed.

You were excited for your sister, of course you were... But it stung, seeing the first time you had seen everyone in so long become a celebration of Feyre so quickly.

You said a quick congratulations to Feyre, though you weren't sure she heard you over the tenfold increased volume in the kitchen.

Then you made your way upstairs, back to your room, back to your bathtub.

At least you had a new blanket to keep you company, and new tea to have the next time you woke.

So you settled in, snuggling down into your now cozier makeshift bed. There was less fear in your heart, now that the obligation of seeing people was over. But the cramps were ripping through you, causing you to curl in tightly on yourself. Maybe you should have asked Mor for a potion after all...

Until you drifted off, you could hear them celebrating below, another reminder of how out of place you still feel.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

ILIPW taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd

#I hate it here #i look in people's windows #the afterthought #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #acotar x you #acotar x reader #angst #acotar x reader angst #acotar x you angst #toxic inner circle #inner circle bashing #mor is good tho!#mor is the best 🫶#morrigan #tato writes

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

Stars all aligned - Chapter 13

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

The morning sunlight was streaming in through the open balcony windows, the scents of roses and honey filling the space.

It was a lovely day.

And Feyre hated every fucking minute of it.

She couldn’t help herself.

Every since she had found out the full truth…had found out about what happened to Zarah… She couldn’t put it into words.

Devastated wasn’t enough, wasn’t even close to enough…

Her chest ached, her hands clenched at her sides. She was still…reeling.

From the looks of it, she thought bitterly as she caught sight of Elain sitting across her, clenching her hands…she wasn’t the only one.

Even Nesta… unruffled Nesta, normally always straight backed say there, her shoulders caving in.

The only one who didn’t seem to understand what was going on at all was Nyx, who was happily playing with a couple of wooden blocks and that was it.

“Why did you never tell me?“ Feyre demanded weakly. “Why did you never tell me about…“

“The affair?“ Elain asked softly.

“It wasn’t an affair!” Feyre snapped. It wasn’t. It had been rape. Plain and simple. Zahra had been raped. For 6 years. Dozens if not hundreds of times.

Elain flinched at her words, her eyes flinching away.

Nesta, meanwhile, just continued to stare off into the distance, her face a mask of cool nonchalance, but Feyre could tell…could see the hurt and pain behind her calm mask.

Feyre swallowed back the lump in her throat, trying to control her emotions.

“Why?” she repeated, her voice softer this time. Why hadn’t they never told her about what had happened. Why had she been blinded to this all this time? Why had she never noticed anything?

It was just another failure on her part. Another failure to be a good sister, friend…just an all around failure.

Her hands balled themselves into fists, a hot flush of frustration and anger rising up within her. Silence settled over the space, only broken by the sound of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves from the gardens, of Nyx playing happily with his blocks…

But it wasn’t comfortable silence, it was cold and tense.

Feyre didn’t know what to say, what to think.

The realization, the weight of what she had never known, settled around her like a shroud. “Because I didn’t want you to get the idea that sleeping with a married man was something you should do too. Isaac Hale was bad enough,” Nesta said, her voice flat.

Feyre clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding together. She fought back the urge to retort back with something equally sharp, but she knew it wouldn’t help right now. Instead she took a deep breath, her voice shaking.

“Zahra wasn’t sleeping with a married man, it was rape.” she whispered, her stomach churning with emotion.

Her hands trembled slightly, her palms sweaty. She felt sick. Sick to her stomach at the thought of what her sister had gone through.

She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what she hadn’t known about…what had happened right before her eyes and she hadn’t…known.

She had not…

Not one word from Zahra. Not one time where Feyre had thought something was amiss. That something was wrong…

She should have seen it. Should have realised that Zahra wore long sleeves even while cooking, even in the summer. Did she want to know what she had hidden beneath these dresses. Had it been bruises? Had it been something worse?

Feyre should have realised that sometimes Zahra had slept on the cold wood floor and not shared the bed with her sisters… Not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she probably hasn’t been able to stand the thought of another person touching her.

All of those tiny things she hadn’t even noticed…all of those signs Feyre had missed.

All of the times that Feyre hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t helped. Hadn’t protected her. She should have been there for Zahra. Should have been there as a friend, as a confidant, as a sister. She should have been the one to notice. To step in.

Feyre should have…seen it then.

But she hasn’t.

Feyre hasn’t seen it then.

Feyre hasn’t stepped in when she had returned to her family, when they were wealthy again and Zahra was a maid, working for her own family, her own father. Feyre should have…she should have done something against that…but she hadn’t. She hadn’t done anything.

She should have done something once her sisters had been turned Fae… after the war…and not simply…not simply ignored Zahra because suddenly Elain and Nesta wanted to spend time with her…

She shouldn’t have simply accepted their behaviour towards Zahra either.

Feyre should have made sure everyone was fine. That her entire family was doing okay.Instead she had been so wrapped up in herself and her relationship with Rhys, in new motherhood, in everything but what was right before her nose. .

She had been so goddamn oblivious.

And Zahra…poor Zahra had…had been carrying this horrible secret with her. All alone for so god damned long all the while nobody cared or noticed.

Feyre had been a shitty sister, a shitty friend.

And now her guilt was going to eat her alive.

Feyre swallowed, the bitter taste of guilt and regret filling her mouth.

She had been so selfish. So selfish to not notice…to not see

And Azriel…he had been so furious.

His voice like cold death. Vicious in his protection of his mate. She couldn’t get over that.

“I just can’t see it,” Elain said suddenly. “Azriel and Zahra.”

Elain’s voice snapped Feyre out of her reverie, and she glanced over. Elain had a look of utter bewilderment on her face, as she spoke softly, as if unable to piece the puzzle together within her head. “I just can’t picture them together,” she repeated, her tone reflecting the disbelief she was feeling. “They…just… don’t seem like they'd be a good fit,'' Elain continued, her brow furrowed.

She was the picture of confusion, unable to wrap her mind around the match.

The comment made Feyre bristle, a rush of protectiveness surging up inside her.

"They are a great fit," she responded firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

They were. Both content to exist in the quiet, both with a sharp bting humour that only came out sometimes…

They were a good fit. If there was any male that Feyre trusted with her sister after that revelation it was Azriel.

“And I don’t want to hear how he deserves better,” Feyre snapped at Nesta. “Zahra is our sister,” she stressed. Their sister.

Regardless of the circumstances of her birthday. She was still their sister.

Nesta seemingly flinched at that. “She is.” Nesta’s voice was flat as she said that and Feyre was so surprised that she could just stare at her eldest sister as Nesta lifted a pair of grey eyes to look at her. “What, do you wish for me to disagree?” Nesta asked her with a sigh. “Gwyn nearly bit off my head, Emerie is so furious that she had a screaming fit and Cassian doesn’t even talk to me anymore.”

“I…I didn't say…that," Feyre sputtered, taken aback by the words from her sister.But seeing the look on her face…she was more than stunned. Seeing her sister like this…it hurt. It made her chest ache with a dull pain.

“He doesnt talk?” Elain asked surprised.

Nesta looked away, her gaze fluttering to somewhere in the distance. "He…hasn't really said anything," she admitted in a voice that was so small and soft, Feyre had to strain to hear it. She was twisting her hands together in her lap, a strange vulnerability to her eyes as she spoke. She looked…wary, as if afraid of what Feyre might say or do in response.

“He’s furious with me. But also doesn’t want me to fix it,” Nesta spat out suddenly.

"What?" Feyre asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes locked onto Nesta’s, watching as a flurry of emotions played across her face. There was anger, yes. But there was also pain. Sorrow. Despair. Remorse. Guilt. All of it swirling together in a confusing storm of emotion.

Feyre’s heart ached at the sight, her chest tightening in response to the turmoil she was witnessing. She wanted to help, to comfort, to offer some sort of solace in this moment of pain. But she didn’t know what to do.

“I just want to apologise,“ Elain whispered. Didn’t they all? Elain looked down at her hands as she spoke, her voice soft and filled with regret. "But how can I? I…I don’t even know what to say," she admitted, swallowing hard. Her hands curled into small fists, as if the act of speaking the words aloud was physically painful.

“And we can’t even get to her, can’t even see her, because Azriel is controlling all access to her!” Nesta snapped.

“Not controlling. Protecting,” Feyre corrected her sister gently, though she shared her frustration.

Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, an underlying sense of understanding.

She knew that Azriel was doing everything in his power to protect Zahra, to keep her safe. She understood that drive, the protective instinct that was driving Azriel now. Feyre herself would move mountains to protect those she loved. She understood Azriel’s need to do the same for his mate.

But…was this really the best for Zahra? To cut her off from her sisters?

Her chest ached as she considered the question, and she couldn’t help but feel that Azriel was going too far.

He was doing these things out of love and protectiveness, she could see that, but in doing so, he was creating an even bigger divide between Zahra and her sisters.

He was isolating her, and it wasn't right.

She knew Azriel had a temper, and that he could be fiercely overprotective when it came to those he cared about. But this…this was too much.

It wasn’t good for anyone.

Feyre looked between Elain and Nesta, her heart twinging in sympathy.

She could see the pain in both of their eyes, the hurt.

And she couldn’t help…she couldn’t help but remember a time where she herself had been locked away. Out of love. Out of protectivness…

And now, Feyre couldn't help but wonder if Azriel was now becoming the "Tamlin" in this scenario.

She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to believe that Azriel would turn into something like that.But she couldn't deny the signs.

Azriel was acting out of love, certainly, but that didn't mean that what he was doing was right.

It needed to stop. And it needed to stop soon.

She let out a deep sigh, reaching to grasp for each of her sister’s hands.

"We need to talk to him," she said finally, her voice firm. She glanced between them both, her expression resolute. "We can’t let this continue. It’s not good for anyone involved. Especially not for Zahra."

She squeezed both of their hands, hoping that they would understand.

She wasn’t going to let her sisters and her…her friend, suffer because of Azriel’s overprotective nature.

“And how do you want to do that?” Elain asked. “Please remember that your own mate wants us to give her time,” Elain said sharply. “Our options are limited. We have no idea where Rosehall even is!”

True.

The other option was tryin to talk to Azriel using her daemati powers, but somehow she doubted that that would go over well either…

"Do you think Mor would tell you where Rosehall is?" Nesta asked Feyre.

Feyre paused at that, her brow furrowing slightly. She hadn't even considered asking Mor, but maybe that was a good idea. It was worth a try, at least.

"I don’t know," she muttered. "But it’s worth asking, I suppose?"

But all of that didn’t even…it didn’t really get to the crux of that matter either.

“Why did she never say?” Feyre asked weakly. “I get that she never told you. You hate her!” she spat out. “But I don’t!”

“We don’t hate her!” Elain said immediately. “It’s just…”

“Every time I looked at Zahra the only thing I could think about is how utterly useless our father was,” Nesta spat out. “But that’s my problem and not hers and I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have let it out on her…”

"And yet you did!!" Feyre exclaimed, frustration boiling over within her. “You hated her and treated her…" She trailed off, her voice catching on the words. "You treated her worse than dirt, Nesta," she gritted out, her eyes flashing with anger.

“We all did,” Elain said softly, her voice trembling.

Feyre looked over at her, and her heart ached at the sight of the two of them.

Nesta and Elain were both strong and fierce women, but at this moment, they looked so…broken.

Feyre wanted to say something, to comfort them both, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she bit her lip, her heart a mess of conflicting emotions.

Guilt, regret, anger, hurt. It all raged within her.

She wished she could go back in time, and do something different. But she couldn't. All they could do was…move forward.

And the first step…the first step was to get through to Azriel. Somehow. Some way.She just hoped that she could manage it. She let out a small breath, looking between her sisters.

"Let's go talk to Mor," she said finally, her voice quiet yet determined.

She knew it was going to be a difficult conversation, but it was necessary. They needed to do this. For themselves, for each other. And for Zahra.

****

Azalea was curled up against Azriel’s chest, scarred hands carefully holding the sleepy baby. Her eyelids were fluttering, her tiny hands grasping at her Father's shirt while her head lolled on his chest.

Azriel was murmuring softly to her, the words too low for Zahra to understand. But the sound of his voice was enough to keep the girl blissfully asleep, her chest rising and falling peacefully.

Azriel's hand was curled protectively around the tiny form in his arms, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back in an attempt to soothe the girl.

She had been fighting sleep, refusing to give in to exhaustion despite the long and tiring day. But now...Now she was succumbing to the pull of sleep, her little eyelids drifting closed more and more with every passing second. Azriel's fingers continued their gentle ministrations, his touch careful and loving as he worked to coax the baby into a deep sleep.

His own exhaustion was beginning to show on his face, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper than usual. But he kept his eyes fixed on the small, vulnerable form he was holding, refusing to look away, as if afraid that she might disappear if he were to blink.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Azalea's eyes fluttered closed completely, her small body relaxing fully in her father's arms.

Azriel let out a soft breath, his fingers stilling in their movements as he watched the tiny girl's breathing even out. She was finally asleep, her tiny face softened in complete peace and contentment.

Azriel carefully adjusted his grip, making sure to keep the baby tucked snugly against his chest, close to his heart. His hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from the girl's face, his touch reverent.

He tilted his head down slightly, his lips gently kissing the top of the baby's head.

Zahra could see the love in his eyes, the affection practically pouring off of him in waves. “Come to bed,” she whispered softly. Azriel looked up, smiling at her.

Azalea was placed reverently on the bed next to Zahra, where she had carefully rolled up a few blankets to protect the baby from the wall, the bed was pushed against.

Zahra would take the middle, with Azalea to her left and Azriel to her right…

Azalea stirred as Azriel laid her down carefully, a small noise of protest escaping her lips. But as soon as she was settled against Zahra, she immediately curled into the touch, her small hands grasping at her nightgown.

It was like the baby was drawn to her, instinctively seeking out the comfort of her presence even in sleep, and Zahra pressed a kiss to the dark curls that covered her head, pulling a small fur trimmed blanket over her, fussing with it.

“Where can you get these?” She asked Azriel softly as he slipped into bed behind her, schooching closer until he could pull her in his arms. Azriel hummed as he tucked himself against her back, pressing his chest firmly against her. His arms curled around her waist, pulling her in close.

"The blankets?" he mumbled quietly, his breath warm on her neck. “I think my mother made them, with some flannel and furs of some rabbitsI hunted for dinner once.” He took a moment to press a soft kiss to the side of her neck, his lips lingering on her skin. “I’ll go hunt some more rabbits tomorrow,” he told her simply.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra protested.

He let out a soft snort, his arms tightening around her just a fraction.

"I know I don't need to," he murmured, his tone soft and amused. "But I want to," he added, his voice becoming more serious. “My girls won’t get cold on my watch.”

My girls.

Something in her chest warmed at these words. My girls.

Azriel pressed another kiss to her neck before burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, his lips brushing against her skin. “Besides, it’s a point of pride for e very Illyrian male to provide for his wife and children,” Azriel said softly. “Probably the one time I agree with something they do,” he murmured with some sarcasm.

Wife.

The word landed in her mind like a bell rung.

Wife.

The way he said the word, the quiet possessiveness in his voice, sent a shiver down her spine.

She could feel his chest pressing against her back, the heat of it seeping through her shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

Zahra let out a shaky breath, her heart stuttering inside her chest. "Wife," she repeated quietly, testing the word on her tongue.

“Or mate,” Azriel said softly. “Either is fine with me. Whatever you prefer.”

She exhaled shakily. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be a proper mate,” she whispered quietly. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to stand the thought of offering him food and triggering the Mating Frenzy. Wasn’t sure if the thought of him, with all his inhibitions bared wasn’t going to terrify her. She never wanted to be terrified of Azriel. She never had been either…but the thought of that it was…she wasn’t sure if she could do that. But she could… “But I could be your wife.”

Azriel's arms tightened around her at her words, his body shifting to press even closer against her. She could feel him nuzzling his face into the crook of her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.

"No such thing as a 'proper mate'," he murmured quietly, his voice low and reassuring. "You are my mate. Regardless if we ever go through a mating frenzy or not," he added, his lips finding the soft spot behind her ear. She shivered slightly as his lips grazed her skin, his touch setting her nerves on fire.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the possessiveness in his tone making her breath hitch. “We should get married. You know…only to make sure that Azalea isn’t a bastard,” she told him, biting her lips. Not a bastard like both of the.

Azriel let out a low chuckle, his arms tightening around her just a fraction."That's the only reason, huh?" he teased, his voice low and amused.

His lips found her neck again, pressing a trail of kisses against her skin.“I love you,” he whispered into her skin.

The simple words made her shiver, her breath catching in her throat.

His lips continued their path up her neck, warm and soft against her skin. She could feel the heat of his body pressing against her back, the warmth of his chest against her back. His mouth made it to her jawline, his lips brushing against the skin there affectionately. She could feel his breaths against her neck, every exhale sending a fresh wave of heat over her skin and setting her heart a-flutter.

"I love you," he repeated quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I love you and I want to marry you."

His lips found hers as he tugged her face around. The kiss was gentle, soft and unhurried.

There was no urgency to it, no desperation or force. Just his lips against hers, tasting her slowly, drinking her in. This and just this…she could do this.

Nothing in this kiss reminded her off before. Nothing hurt, nothing even threatened to hurt and she let him kiss her lazily a until they both had their fill, before she leaned back into the pillows, one enormous wing coming over to cover her and Azalea as well, still curled against her side.Azriel's arm wrapped around her, his body shifting closer until he was pressed flush against her side.

His wing spread over the three of them, creating a makeshift shelter and a comfortable warmth.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his breath soft against her skin as he placed a soft kiss behind her ears. The weight of his body was reassuring, a comfort that settled her.

His wing was curled around them both, the shadows dancing like flickering stars across the darkness as his shadows wrapped themselves around them both.

She could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against hers, his body warm and solid, offering comfort and security. His arm was curled around her waist, holding her close, while his other hand began to gently brush her hair.

The motion was soothing, his touch gentle and rhythmic as he combed his fingers through the strands.

“Is there a priestess around Rosehall?” She asked him softly.

Azriel let out a soft hum, his hand stilling in her hair as he considered the question.

"There is," he answered quietly, his lips brushing against the side of her neck. "Why?"

“If we do this…” she said softly, “let’s just do it here. Let’s just do it, just for the two of us and nobody else.”

Azriel's lips curled into a soft smile as she spoke, his arm tightening around her waist.

"Just the two of us?" he asked, his voice soft and full of affection."Are you sure?"

His mouth found her neck again, his lips tracing a slow path up. “Maybe your mother and Azalea,” she said softly. “But nobody else.”

He chuckled against her skin, the sound so low and soft she could feel the vibrations of it against her spine.

"You want my mother there?" he asked, his voice still tinged with laughter. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck again, his lips brushing against her pulse point. “And I suppose Azalea can be our flower girl,” he murmured into her skin, amusement in his voice. “But if you want it like that…we’ll do it,” Azriel agreed softly. “I hate big parties, you know that.”

“Just us,” she repeated.

“Just us,” Azriel said softly. “We’ll go see a priestess tomorrow.”

She smiled at him, craning her head to press another kiss against his lips.Azriel hummed against her mouth, returning the kiss with equal affection.

His hand slid back up to sift through her hair again, his fingers carding through the strands in a way that sent pleasurable tingles down her spine.

His wing shifted, curling more closely around them, enveloping them in its darkness. “Sleep now, sunshine” he told her seriously.

And so she did.

With Azriel's body pressed to hers, his arms circled around her waist, his wing draped over her and Azalea and his lips against her neck, she let herself drift into sleep easily.

The sound of Azriel's quiet, steady breaths in her ear was like a lullaby, soothing and familiar.

“Are you sure you don’t at least want some kind of celebration?!” Esmeray demanded the next morning, while Zarah was wrangling Azalea to eat her porridge and Azriel and asked his mother where to find the Priestess of Rosehall for an impromptu wedding ceremony.

"I don't want any big celebration," Zahra repeated firmly, balancing a wriggling Azalea on her lap as the baby tried to grab at her spoon. She couldn't help but smile as the girl squealed. "We just want a simple ceremony," she insisted, carefully feeding Azalea before the baby could send porridge flying from her mouth. “Just us, Azalea and you,” she told Esmeray. “I don’t want to deal with planning a big wedding and neither does Azriel.

Esmeray huffed, a look of mock-annoyance crossing her face. "My little boy, having a small wedding?" she teased, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I did not see that coming at all. It’s so unlike him.”

Zahra couldn’t help but laugh. "We prefer it that way," she assured Esmeray. "We just want something simple and intimate. No fuss. Something just for us.”

Esmeray sighed. “It sounds lovely,” she assured Zahra. “But don’t even think you are get out of buying the poor girl a ring, Azriel!”

Azriel let out a soft laugh at his mother's comment. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed leisurely across his chest.

"Of course I'm going to get her a ring," he assured his mother with an amused smile. "I wouldn't dream of not getting her something," he added, his voice soft and affectionate.

He pushed off of the doorframe, striding towards them lazily and sitting down beside Zahra. His wing came out to wrap around them, its shadows playing over Azalea's hair. Azalea squealed, her eyes wide as she tried to swat at the shadows moving about. Zahra couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's antics.

She leaned her head back against Azriel's chest, relishing the comfort of his presence. "Besides," Azriel added, his arm coming around Zahra's shoulders and tugging her closer. "I think she deserves a nice, big, shiny diamond for putting up with me. Don’t you?"

Esmeray chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course. Something large and sparkling is definitely what's in order," she agreed, glancing at Zahra with a warm smile.

“Don’t you dare,” Zahra said drily. “I want a simple gold band.“

"Oh come on, honey," Esmeray coaxed, her voice full of mirth.”How about an emerald at least? It would match your eyes!”

“I don’t even wear any jewellery half the time,” Zahra said with a snort. “Azriel can save his money. A gold band more than suffices for me,” she promised him. As long as he was the one giving it to her…

Azriel's smirk softened at her words, his eyes softening.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"Alright, a simple gold band it is," he conceded, though there was still a hint of teasing in his voice. "Your wish is my command," he murmured against her skin.

His hand slid down to grasp her own, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss against the back of her knuckles.

“Come on Zahra, we’ll figure out a dress, Esmeray said with a smile. “If you would have given me more than a few hours of time, I would have made you one but alas,” Esmeray clucked her tongue….we’ll need to see what I can scrounge up that is fit for a bride.“

Zahra let out a huff of laughter, allowing Esmeray to tug her out of her chair and away from Azriel.

A heavy woolem cream coloured dress ended up being her choice, something she had worn numerous times before. Azriel came upon them in the bedroom, watching from the doorway as Esmeray fussed over her, and at least insisted of putting a couple of poor long suffering wildflowers in her hair.

He leant against the frame, arms crossed, wings casually held out behind him, a slight smile on his face. “Ready?“ he asked her.

“Do you have your coat?” Esmeray demanded from her son. “I won’t have you get out of providing a bride gift either!“

A bride gift?

She had no idea what Esmeray was talking about but Azriel did.

Azriel's smile widened into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I do have my coat, mother," he replied, his voice amused. “And I’ll get Zahra a bride gift, don’t you worry.”

She had no idea what that was about. Azriel's smirk widened further into a grin as he pushed away from the door frame, striding into the room to join them.

He wrapped an arm around Zahra's waist, tugging her gently against his side.

“It’s illyrian tradition that I gift you a coat at the wedding made from furs of an animal I hunted,” he explained softly. Well, that explained that. "You look beautiful," he murmured into her ear.

“Thank you,” she whispered right back. Azriel's hand held onto her, his presence reassuring as Esmeray finished fussing over the dress.

She finally got to see Rosehall proper. A bustling little hamlet filled with busy work and laughing children…

Azriel led her down the narrow cobblestone streets, his hand still holding hers loosely. The hamlet was indeed bustling, filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation, the chatter of children and the smells of cooking food. As they walked, people glanced up and waved, some giving them curious looks, but mostly smiles.

Azriel gave nods of greeting in return, while Esmeray greeted them by name. He kept his wing curled behind her, shadows swirling lazily about them.

Azalea, perched on her Zahra’s hip, was wide-eyed and curious, taking in the sights and sounds of the hamlet with unabashed fascination. She wriggled in her mother's arms, her tiny hands reaching for everything and everyone within grasp.

Azriel chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, his hand coming up to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Someone's eager to explore," he commented with a smile, glancing down at her.

Azalea babbled something incoherent in response, her focus on the surrounding hamlet, her small fingers flexing as if trying to reach out and touch things.

Zahra smiled down at her, her own eyes scanning the surrounding scenery. “Who can blame her?” Zahra answered softly. “She’ll like it at home, I think.”

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at them both. "Of course she will," he agreed, his voice affectionate.

His hand gave her own another slight squeezed, his wing shifting to wrap a little more firmly around them both as they continued down the street.

She wasn’t quite sure what to expect of an Illyrian priestess. Was it going to be similar to the blue robes priestesses at the House of Wind?

They arrived at the temple a few minutes later, a simple structure of stone and wood that looked to be well-maintained, despite its rustic nature. There were no blue robes, but instead a young woman speaking in a language Zahra did not understand at all. Illyrian.

“You’ll need to teach me,” she told Azriel quietly as they waited for a moment. “Azalea will need to learn.”

Azriel glanced down at her with a small smile, his eyes soft. “I will,” he promised her, his hand reaching down to squeeze her own.

The young woman turned back to them then, her eyes flickering between the both of them.

“Are you ready?” she asked in a lilting tone.

Azriel gave a nod. He turned to Zahra and Azalea, his gaze meeting her own.

“Are you?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching up to brush back a strand of her hair. Zahra met his gaze, her fingers curling around his own. She swallowed back the flutter in her stomach, glancing back at Azalea, who was still busy looking about the temple with wide eyes.

“Yes.”

That one word was all she could manage in that moment.

Azriel gave a small nod, his smile soft and warm. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, his gaze flickering back to the priestess.

The young woman led them towards the center of the temple, a small but sacred-looking area.The inside was simple, but there was an air of reverence, a feeling of something sacred about the space.

It wasn’t like a human wedding at all. But then Zahra had never thought that she would get to have this at all either.

And as she looked at Azriel…suddenly it was so easy.

She handed Azalea to Esmeray, while the baby looked on wide eyed and slipped her hands in Azriel‘s scarred once, feeling at home at once.

She didn’t care what blessings the priestess did, didn’t care if they were High Fae or Illyrian, all she cared about was that they bound her to him.

Azriel's hands clasped around her own, his palms warm and calloused against hers.

The sound of the priestess’ voice was a low melody, the words spoken in Illyrian and so foreign to Zahra’s ears. But she didn’t need to understand the words, not with the way Azriel was gazing at her. t was the look in his eyes, the way his hands held her own, like he would never let her go.

His gaze was soft, his eyes filled with an affection that made her feel weak at the knees.

She could lose herself in those eyes. The blessing continued, the priestess’ voice a steady cadence. Azriel’s eyes never left her own, his expression soft as they continued to hold each other's hands, their fingers laced together tightly.

She did finally figure out for what he needed the coat.

Because when he ceremony neared its end, he pulled it from his own shoulders and clasped it around hers, heavy and warm. As Azriel settled the heavy leather over her shoulders, she immediately felt an added layer of warmth settle over her skin.

The coat was like a solid weight, a reminder and a promise. The scent of cedar and mist immediately teased her senses and she inhaled deeply, the familiar and comforting smell settling over her. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment, gently adjusting the garment before coming up to her chin, gently tilting up her face to meet his gaze.

She met his eyes, noting the affection in them, the possessiveness. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She barely heard the final words of the ceremony as she was lost in that intense gaze of his.

The sound of the priestess’ voice seemed far away, her own heartbeat a steady, quick thrum in her ears.

Azriel's hands continued to cup her face, his fingers warm against her skin. The feeling of his hands against her, the way he held her so carefully and gently as though she was something precious and fragile, sent another flutter through her chest.

His gaze roamed over her face, as if drinking in the sight of her, his expression a mixture of awe and affection. And the he kissed her. A soft warm press of his lips a faint hers.

As his lips met hers, the flutter in her chest grew stronger, a warm feeling spreading throughout her body. She could faintly hear the sound of clapping around them, but she was lost in the feel of him.

His mouth pressed against hers, his hands gentle on her face.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Stars all aligned

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

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“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters

warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh

summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀

do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:

amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs

ᯓ★ RHYSAND

⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !

⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !

⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !

⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !

⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !

⟢ afternath of said creampie !

⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !

⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !

ᯓ★ CASSIAN

⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !

⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !

⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !

⟢ getting deepstroked by him !

⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !

⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !

⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !

⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !

⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !

ᯓ★ AZRIEL

⟢ getting pounded from behind !

⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !

⟢ riding azriel’s face !

⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !

⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !

⟢ temperature play with azriel !

⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !

⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !

⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !

ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA

⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !

⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !

⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !

⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !

⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !

⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !

⟢ eris eating you out !

⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !

ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA

⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !

⟢ 69’ing with his mate !

⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !

⟢ softly making out mid sex !

⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !

⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !

⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !

⟢ riding + nipple play !

ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON

⟢ french kissing feyre !

⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !

⟢ eating her out while fingering !

⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !

⟢ teasing you through your panties !

⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !

⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !

⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !

⟢ tounge play with feyre !

ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON

⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !

⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !

⟢ distracted when baking a cake !

⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !

⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !

⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !

⟢ morning kisses with elain !

⟢ scissoring session !

ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON

⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !

⟢ going dumb on her strap !

⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !

⟢ creaming on her fingers !

⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !

⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !

⟢ riding nesta’s strap !

3K notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 1 year ago

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Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

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multifictional · 23 days ago

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A Court of Burning Seasons || Part 1

— > eris vanserra × archeron!reader, lucien vanserra x elain archeron

• Part 1: Elain starts to confide in her sister, y/n remains close off but offers support while they both prepare for a festival in the human lands. Elain remembers her moment with Lucien as she told him about her choice.

• Summary: [Y/N] Archeron always felt the pull of autumn, even as a human. The fallen leaves, the warm colours, the spicy sweets, even her birthday. For Elain, it was the sun and the way of feeding her gardens and flowers with its light. Together in the Night Court after being thrown into the Cauldron, they both feel out of place. But while Elain has her growing bond with Lucien, [y/n] remains an outsider. With her powers still silents even after years, she feels a longing she can't quite place. A mating bond with Eris Vanserra is the last thing she expects and also what she seemed to need. But nothing is ever easy as it seems in Prythian, especially not with Beron impeding presence and courts rivalries always finding a way of creating complications.

• Warnings: focused mostly on elucien and the relationship between Elain and y/n, with a mention of Lucien’s past love. Eris doesn’t appear yet, but his time will come soon enough I promise!!

• Word count: 5k (I know, it’s so long and I’m sorry, but it was necessary for the set up)

[introduction]

You didn’t hear Elain come in, or maybe you just pretended not to.

The late afternoon sky outside your window was already inked with stars, Velaris perpetual night cloaking the city. It seemed midnight, though the day was far from over. That was how things worked there, darkness at every corner, every hour. Extremely beautiful for some, but strictly suffocating for you.

Elain hesitated at the doorway, her footsteps soft but not silent. She wasn't unfamiliar with the sight of you, still and quiet, your mind clearly somewhere else. It was usual. You always were lost in thought, but there was something now that made her pause with familiarity. The guarded way you carried yourself, the weight behind your mask of silence, Elain knew it all too well. She understood it.

Because it was similar to the weight she had been carrying, too.

Still, she was the one that understood you the most.

“Do you miss it?” Elain asked, finally breaking the silence.

You didn't move, didn't turn to look at her. “The human lands?”

Elain stepped closer, her voice softer now. “Everything.”

The question lingered, filling the room like a breath neither of you were ready to release.

“It doesn’t matter," you said at last. Your voice was low, but there was no mistaking the bitterness in it. "It's all the same. I didn't belong there, and I don't belong here. My destiny has taken an awful liking in reminding me I never belonged anywhere."

Elain's expression softened further, though she said nothing. She knew you well enough to recognize when you weren't ready to hear her argue otherwise, although she wanted to. But even in your stubbornness, she could see the truth in your words.

She was no stranger in how you felt in your past human life.

Elain stepped beside you, her gaze following yours out of the window and into the starlight horizon. “Were you counting them?”

You blinked and stared at her, startled for just a moment before putting your walls back on. But Elain wouldn't give up.

“Is that your replacement of picking up fallen leaves?” she teased gently, though there was no mockery in her words, only her usual apprehension, the only one capable of getting at you.

Elain had always known why you started doing that in the first place, if only counting stars didn't made things worse. Stars could never comfort you like dying leaves used to. They only reminded you of how out of place you'd always been.

“I tried,” you managed an half smile. “Not the same at all.

The silence returned, thick but never heavy, familiar in its own way. Usually, Elain wouldn't mind it, both of you thrived in the unspoken words of your bond, which never needed constant noise to affirm itself, especially not after what had happened with the Cauldron.

But today, Elain had come to talk.

And you were too observant to miss it. The way she seemed... different. Nervous, relieved, and even impatient, it seemed.

“There is a reason in particular you came here?” you prompted, casually. “Or you just wanted to be delighted by my presence?”

"Yes. There is," she said, shifting awkwardly. Her voice was light, but you caught the nerves she tried to hide behind it. "Two reason, actually. And you won't like one of them."

"I won't like it, you say? I'm almost afraid to ask," you turned to face her fully, your arms crossing over your chest. "Start with this one, then."

She gave you a faint smile before giving in to your request. "Feyre and Rhysand will be coming too.”

Your response was immediate. A sharp snort, deliberate, more amused than anything else. Of course they would. "Should I be surprised?" you said, rolling your eyes. "They don't trust us to handle our own, don't they? They just can't help themselves. Of course, Mother forbid us stepping out out of their sight for more than a minute!"

Elain winced at the sharp edge of your tone, but she said nothing. You turned away then, pacing towards your bed as you muttered to yourself. "They believe Velaris is the only thing worth protecting, but they expect loyalty in return, while keeping us at arm's length. They want all of us to fall in line, no question asked at all."

It wasn't the first time you said something of the sorts, and Elain doubted it would be the last. She knew what you felt about Feyre and and Rhysand, and how your sister's action had shaped your existences without consent or consideration. Elain didn't disagree, not completely, at least. She had learned, eventially, to make her peace with it in a way you hadn't.

“At least we can go back, for once," she said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. "To the human lands, to the festival."

Sensing how hopeful and excited she sounded, you gave her a pointed look, skepticism written all over your face. "We both know why we're really going. Do you thing is about reminiscing sweet old times? No, it's not about the festival. It never will be. It's an excuse about politics for them. Checking alliances, keeping tabs on humans. That's all it ever is."

"Maybe," she patiently conceded. "But does it really matter why they go? We could still enjoy it, you know. A quiet night. Away from here. Together."

Your hesitation crumbled, just a little. Elain could see the resistance in your expression, but also how mentioning to step outside the Night Court, even for a few hours, was the right string to pull. You would do anything to get away from Velaris, and she knew it. It was the only way you could finally breathe, at least for a little while.

With a final sigh, you relented. "You know I'm coming. I already promised you this. And I've never broken a promise to you, not once. And you know it."

Elain's smile grew, relieved by your acceptance. "No, you never did."

That simple truth, the unwavering loyalty you shared, even more than with your other sisters, meant more to her than she could put into words. But that wasn't all. There was something else she needed to address with you. The weight of it pressed heavily on her chest like a machete.

"Besides, it's autumn time in the human lands, you will enjoy it."

You tried to seem indifferent. But the mention of the season that always made you feel a little bit like home, made your eyes sparkle. Elain noticed that, and smiled amusingly.

"What's the other thing?" you prompted, watching her closely.

Elain checks blushed hard as she looked down, deliberately avoiding your gaze. She didn’t know how to start this conversation, but she knew you were the only one she could trust. She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, but it was you who talked first.

"It's about Lucien," you guessed.

She froze, not expecting your straightforwardness. Then, slowly, her head moved in a quiet nod, tentative. “You’re the only one I could talk to. Feyre is… I don’t know which part she would take, and Nesta…”

Your brows lifted. There was no need to say more. Nesta’s dislike for Lucien was no secret, she didn’t even try to hide it, she never did. The passing of time didn’t soften her, all the contrary.

You sat beside her, while still giving her the space she needed. After a moment, you talked. “Don’t mind Nesta. She has her own life now, she made her decisions. Now, you make yours. It’s not about her, it’s about you.” You placed an hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture coming from you, but still treasured for Elain. “You shouldn’t follow anyone’s expectation.”

“Not even Lucien’s?” she asked now, her voice trying to be steady, but failing.

“I’m sure Lucien has no expectations of you. Hope, maybe, but no expectations.”

“Yes. He told me as much. Repeatedly.”

“Follow your heart, Elain. Don’t think of what the Inner Circle would want you to decide. Not what Nesta would like to see. Not even what Lucien’s hopes are,” your voice grew steadier by the seconds. “You always wanted to have a choice. You can’t have what you had before, I’m not going to lie, but you can still choose for yourself.”

“I’ve made my choice,” she admitted. Her voice wavered, but there was a soft determination beneath it. “I gave Lucien a chance.”

You stared at her. There weren’t many things that stunned you, but this certainly did. It wasn’t the revelation itself that came as a shock, it was the strong conviction in her voice. That was the Elain you knew. The Elain everybody else didn’t even know existed.

She chuckled softly, taking advantage of the moment. “I thought about it for a long time. And I realised, we both deserve to find out what this could be.”

You took her hand in yours, offering a rare, genuine smile she so often brought upon you. “If this is what you have decided for yourself, it can never be wrong. It’s your life, your mistakes, your choices. No one gets to take them for you, and you’re certainly allowed to make wrong decisions, but you will never know if you just follow everyone else’s standards.“

Her eyes glittered with gratitude, and for the first time in a long while, you saw not the broken pieces of your sister but someone stronger, someone rebuilding. Her true self, strong and determined, finally taking voice.

And as she remembered the very moment she made that decision, you squeezed her hand before letting go.

Earlier that afternoon, Elain sat cross legged on a blanket in the middle of the garden, her hands bloodied by her recent gardening, though she barely noticed. A cup of tie was cooling beside her, untouched, a plate of pastries forgotten, as she stared at the flowers she'd been tending just a moment before. They were thriving, growing beautifully, but this place, beautiful as it was, wasn't the garden she had in the human world she'd left behind. It wasn't hers.

A subtle and familiar tug at the edge of her awareness distracted her. She had ignored it for months, years even. But recently, resisting had become impossible, more than usual. It felt too insisted, too present to deny anymore. Which was strange, since the mating bond hasn't snapped into place for her yet. She almost had hoped it never would. Almost.

She lifted her head just as a flash of auburn caught her eyes.

Lucien. Her… mate.

He was far away, his russet hair catching the light, but her chest tightened as though he was already standing beside her. His presence had been haunting her dreams, creeping into her thoughts, and now even her visions. Vivid glimpses of him, flashes here and there, lingered in her mind more often than she cared to admit.

Sensing her gaze, Lucien's head snapped up and their eyes met. He froze mid motion, finding himself lost in awe by her soft beauty, her petite frame in the middle of the grass, her blue dress all around her like an aura. For him, she was the ultimate vision.

Elain flushed and quickly looked away. The damage, though, was already done. He started to walk closer.

He always did.

It was a matter of seconds before he was standing right before her, his tall frame casting a shadow over the blanket. He spoke carefully, trying to temper his natural boldness. It was as if he expected her withdrawal.

"Everything alright, lady Elain?"

Elain tried to ignore the stuttering of her heart and the tug of the bond caused by the sound of his voice, warm and deep. She avoided his gaze, focusing on her hands instead. "Everything's fine."

Lucien's sharp mechanical eye zeroed in on her hands, still speckled with blood. Without thinking twice, he knelt, taking one of them into his. His touch was light, almost reverent, as he inspected the scratches.

"You're hurt," he murmured.

Elain tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was too firm. "It's nothing," she insisted.

"It's not nothing," he replied, holding her gaze, his golden eye far too serious. It took her aback. "You should never be harmed. Not even by thorns, not by anything.”

For a moment, his words, and the way he said them, stunned her. There was no condescension in his tone, no assumption that she was some little thing that needed protecting at all costs. This wasn't someone dismissing her strength. This was Lucien, holding back instincts she could barely understand. It didn't matter how much it tore him apart, he would still put her needs first and worry about her nonetheless.

And despite herself, Elain found herself half smiling. The smallest curve of her lips, fleeting as it was, made Lucien's heart lurch. He committed it to memory, knowing he might not see it again anytime soon. It was the very first time Elain had smiled at him.

Elain didn't know how to name the butterflies that started flying in her chest as Lucien, with a movement of his hand, erased the scratches from her skin.

"What if I liked it?" she asked suddenly, her question almost a challenge.

Lucien blinked, too distracted by their closeness. "Like... what?"

"The sting of these scratches. What if I like how they feel?" the amusement in her voice surprised even her. "What if that's the reason I love gardening so much?"

Lucien's lips quirked into a smile. "It is?" He appeared really curious about this. As if he wasn’t waiting for anything else than getting a glimpse of her. Even as little as it might be.

Elain hesitated only for a second before giving him a slight nod. She didn't realise it, but with only one sentence she had given him more than years of failed conversations.

Lucien chuckled, the sound warm, his voice softening. "Then I will heal your every scratch so that you can enjoy the sting of the thorns all you like as many times as your heart desires, without worrying about your hands."

Lucien stepped back, not wanting to overstep, giving her the space she always seemed to need. He wouldn't take her arm when she barely offered just the tip of her finger. But Elain felt his absence like a weight pressing on her. The silence between them grew suddenly tense, and she found herself breaking it before she could stop.

“I don’t even know what my heart desires."

Lucien studied her carefully. “That much was clear,” he answered, unable to held back his response. “But you’ve got all the time you need to figure it out."

“Is it that easy to find out?” she met his gaze, the question slipping out of her mouth before she could think better of it. “And what does your heart desire, Lucien?”

His expression tightened for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly, as if to steady himself, then opened them, meeting hers.

Hearing his name in his voice was something majestic. But, how could he answer that question? How could he say those words without seeming an overbearing male, pressing her?

“I suppose it would be to know where you stand," he admitted softly, the weight of the words pressing on his chest.

“Where I stand?” she echoed, her brow furrowing. When the meaning behind his words hit her, she blushed, looking away again. "Oh."

After debating it for a few seconds, Lucien sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving a careful distance between them. It took everything in him not to take her hand again, but he kept his movement measured. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Do you regret asking?”

Elain shook her head. "No. I figured you wanted the truth."

"I do," his was quiet now, a deep note of sincerity. "That's all I ever wanted from you."

For a long moment, Elain said nothing, lost in thoughts. Finally, she looked at him again. Lucien waited for her to force the words out.

“Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For always granting me the space I need, for being honest and for... for keeping up with my constant refusal.”

Did she really said that out loud?

Lucien's eye softened, though his jaw tightened, as if holding back a thousand things he wanted to say. Instead, he just nodded, his voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.

“Your life changed overnight. I would never anything on you, let alone myself.”

Elain looked surprised and she stuttered, unable to find the right words. “But I thought… that day…” she trembled, the trauma of that fateful day still too deep ingrained into her mind. “When you said that we were…” she breathed again, shaking her head. “I thought you were stating a claim.”

Lucien’s breath hitched. He didn’t expect that.

All the unease, all the resentment he felt through the bond, was because she had always believed he was… what? Stating that he had a right to her? Laying a claim on her?

“You misunderstood,” he said gently. “It wasn’t anything like that. Not for me. I would never do that. I was just… surprised. That’s all.”

“Surprised?”

Lucien’s hesitated, his hart beating fast. Memories of his past flashed in front of him, painful. He didn’t like to share, to reminiscing how much he had to endure. He didn’t plan to talk about this with his mate, of all people, either. But he knew she deserved the truth.

How would Elain ever trust him if he wasn’t willing to give her something, anything?

Swallowing down the pain he still carried even after centuries, he spoke up. “I had someone too.”

It was all he managed to say. And Elain understood instantly, her mind wandering back to the human lands, to Greysen, his ex fiancé and the same one he turned against her after her transformation. She remembered how she had hoped he would still want her, that their love was stronger than a mating bond, stronger than her new looks. But she had been mistaken.

“It was centuries ago. We always thought we were mates. But the bond never snapped into place.“

Elain stilled. “But it did with me.”

“Yes,” the honesty in his voice was raw. “I barely whispered the words. But you were newly made like us, your senses had sharpened. I didn’t think before talking, but I was too surprised, to stunned, to do anything else.”

Slowly, every pieces found its rightful place in her mind. And in that moment, she realised something. The mating bond wasn’t something she asked. Of that, she was sure.

But it wasn’t something Lucien asked, either.

"Is she...?"

Lucien's voice turned sharp. "Yes. She's gone."

Elain swallowed hard, her heart aching for him. They had both lost.

Perhaps the Cauldron wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps this bond wasn't just a cruel twist of fate. Perhaps this was the door towards their second chance. With each other.

She handed him the plate of discarded biscuits, an innocent gesture to lighten the moment. “Take one.”

But Lucien's reaction was anything but light. His russet eye darkened. Her offering felt innocent. Too innocent. A surge of rage dwelled inside him, as he barely held back a growl.

Had anyone at all explained her how faes work? How to move in this new life, in this new body? Or they just discarded her, as if she would know everything just because she was a seer?

"Do you even know what offering food means for us, Elain?" he asked, firmer than he realized but still gentle. "Do not ever offer me food like that, especially if you don't know where you stand and if you don’t want anything to do with me or this bond. Just don't."

Elain was stunned by the dark edge in his tone that betrayed the fire beneath. She froze, stunned. Realization dawned on her, and her cheeks burned.

And that’s when her movement stilled, right at the motion of standing up. She looked at him, who was frozen, ready to let her go, resigned, and Something in his look gauged at her insides. She swallowed, as the truth in front of her laid finally bare.

She had misjudged him, blinded by her pain and trauma. She was the seer, yet she hadn't tried to see him, to understand.

"What if I want to try?" she whispered.

Lucien's heart stopped. He stared at her, searching for the truth in her words, fearing he could have misread. There was no reason Elain, the same girl that had ignored him for years, would suggest something like that. But the thing was, despite her refusal, he never stopped hoping. For the first time after he recognized her as his mate, he felt something else than her rejection.

"I’m not saying I'lI accept it," she clarified, her voice resolute, but she wouldn't apologize for her sharp tone. He wanted to know where she stood? Then he would have his answer. “But I’m tired of running from the truth. Instead, I want to understand it. To understand you."

His eye softened, hope blooming in his chest. He tried to restrain himself and he let out a long breath. “You don't own anyone anything, especially not me."

“I know," she replied softly. "But my stubbornness is not doing us any good. I understand now that whatever this is, is something we both have to live with, not just me. And... I won't refuse - or accept - anything, until I don't understand it."

Lucien’s mechanic eye looked through her, as if trying to convince himself that she wasn't under any spell. "If that's something you want, that is your decision alone, then I will give you whatever you want. Time. Patience. Space. Honesty. But, especially, I swear I will not take more than you're willing to give. Not ever."

She smiled sincerely for the first time in years. And it was directed at him.

"I can take honesty and patience," she murmured, an almost amused smile on her face. "But I think I already took space and time well enough for a lifetime."

Lucien shook his head, tentatively approaching her. "Doesn't matter. If you need them, just say the word, and that’s what you will have."

"Thank you."

Lucien hesitated for only a second before reaching out, silently seeking her permission first. Elain didn't move, and so Lucien let his hand linger on her face, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin.

And as he tucked a lock of hair behind her hear, Elain knew she would never forget the look on his face.

It was as though she had handled him the world.

And, perhaps, that's exactly what she did.

Back in the present, Elain grew quiet, her gaze distant as if lost in a labyrinth of memories. You didn't dare interrupt her, letting her have the moment she seemed to need, not pushing, not asking questions. Instead, you turned your attention to your wardrobe, absently sorting through the dresses hanging inside.

Blue and dark. The typical palette of the Nigh Court. You couldn’t help but snort, shaking your head.

Elain stared at her hands for a long moment, as though searching for the right words. “He’s coming with us to the human lands,” her soft voice reached you tentatively but steadily. “It will be our first official... date.”

You turned, a smirk already forming on your lips. “Already calling it a date?” you teased. “Does he want to court you now?”

Elain blinked, cheeks tinting pink/then looked away. “I don’t… I don’t know. But I want to be ready.”

"Ready?" You chuckled knowingly. “You’re serious about this.”

Elain's fingers played with the edge of her sleeve, her expression distant for a moment. “I am,” she admitted, her tone holding an uncharacteristic firmness. Then, as if deciding something, she said softly, “I want to make a good impression.”

You leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed. “Oh, darling,” you shook your head, grinning. “You already have Lucien wrapped around your little finger. Quite literally, he had been ready to court you since the moment you were made. You don’t need a fancy dress to make any impression. That poor male will lose his mind just by looking at your eyes.”

Elain blush deepened, but she didn't deny it. “I just want him to know I’m serious about this. That I’m not just… playing around.”

Your heart softened. You wanted to tell her that he already believed that, that she didn't need to prove anything. You knew how much he wanted this, a real chance with Elain. Over the years, you'd grown close to Lucien, enough to count him as a friend, maybe the only one in that place.

Elain knew that, and it had never been an issue. You'd never pushed her to share more than she wanted with him. But now, seeing her trying to step out of her shell, and choosing to move forward instead of always look back, differently from you, made you unexpectedly proud. She deserved this. They both did.

“Then you'd better wear your best dress,” you grinned.

Elain sighed, brushing her fingers along the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t like Night Court fashion but… I think it will have to do for now.”

“I've got you covered here, sister," you offered. "I miss my human clothes too.”

Elain turned towards the door, but not before throwing a sly glance your way over her shoulder. “You don’t miss human dresses, y/n, you just miss their colors.”

Scoffing, you wavered her off, even though she wasn’t completely wrong. "Oh, please."

But her amused voice carried on. “You will be back in those shades you’ve always obsessed over soon enough. You could already, if only you weren’t so stubborn.”

You let her go, without responding, her words lingering in the room like a distant echo. She wasn't wrong, though. There was nothing stopping you, if you decided to. You wouldn’t let anyone, not even the Night Court’s Inner Circle, dictate anything for you, let alone your choices. And there were plenty of shops in Velaris selling the vivid, warm and earthy tones that once defined you. Yet, something about wearing them here, in this court, under their scrutinizing gazes, it just felt... wrong.

So you just went along. Stuck to the dark, muted colors of the court, as you let them cloak you like a shadow.

You never belonged anywhere, anyway. Fae or human, it didn't matter. Even now, reunited with your so called family, you would always be out of the world. An outsider everywhere you went.

It was easier to just... remain that way and to play along with it.

And that was fine. You were used to that.

Later, you and Elain met at the top of the stairs. She practically buzzed with excitement, her hands fluttering nervously at her side. You, in contrast, barely managed a shrug. The only thing pulling you along was the promise of leaving Velaris behind, at least for s little while. Even if Rhys and Feyre's presence would still follow.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, glancing at Elain.

She drew in a deep breath. "A little," she admitted.

Together, you descended the stairs, and here they were. Rhysand and Feyre, in their usual black and blue attire, and Lucien, dressed in his ever-effortless finery, stood talking with them.

The moment Elain arrived, though, his attention shifted entirely. His gaze swept over her, taking in the way her light blue dress flowed around her frame, her hair loosely pulled back, as if she had fretted over it but stopped herself from doing too much. She glanced back, her gaze almost hesitant but lingering, testing the waters of her own bravery. When their eyes met, her heart stumbled and his eye softened as though he could see every unspoken thought she couldn't yet voice.

You walked behind Elain, letting them have their moment, and you didn’t need to look at Feyre to feel her gaze studying you, dissecting you. The sigh that followed was soft, but you heard it light and clear. Another silent judgement, but you ignored it, as you always did. You had gotten used to the way the Night Court worked: all control wrapped in silk and smiles. Feyre's mask was perfect, but it didn't fool you.

"Let's try to keep it subtle and to not draw attention to ourselves, shall we?" Feyre said, her arm already tingled with Rhysand’s. It was impossible not to notice the way all of them, Rhysand included, used their hair to mask the pointed ears as much as possible.

You snorted at her words. Subtle. Hide. That was always the answer with them, wasn't it? Blending in, so would somehow make you less of a target. But it didn't matter, because you could blend in all you wanted and you'd still feel the same.

Why going to the human lands at all if you had to hide what you were?

If only they could understand. This wasn't just about hiding pointed years. You had spent your entire life, both of them, feeling like a shadow in someone else's world. And now, even here, you wore a mask all of them believed in, never letting anyone see past it.

It was a mask you had worn so long that you weren't sure how to take off, even if you wanted to.

As the group prepared to winnow, you couldn't help but notice the way Lucien stood closer to Elain, his fingers brushing hers before gently twining them together. The gesture was tentative, as he expected her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she glanced up at him with a quiet smile reddened cheeks.

At least your sister was getting there, slowly but surely.

And, for now, that had to be enough.

Part 2

A.N: I apologise again for the length, I hope the next chapters will be shorter. If you arrived here, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you liked that! Also, my asks are always open, so if you want to ask something about this story or make a request, I answer everyone!

If you want to be added in the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @wrenisrad @antisocial-architect @homeslices @fox-in-flowers @thecraziestcrayon @bunnyredgirl @lizzytish82 @lportes-22 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @iowaladynerd @samuelseoswife

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feyrescourt · 5 months ago

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The GA’s want their fave to steal and wear Elain’s skin. It’s so weird. They’re never beating the allegations.

#pro elriel #elriel #pro inner circle #elriel endgame #elain archeron #pro elain #why are you ppl like this #elain get behind me #elain x azriel #azriel x elain

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toodelusionalforreality · 9 months ago

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Azriel x OC | Chapter 1

Rare

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Word count: ~5.6k Warning: None [PLOT]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. I have newfound respect for writers who have mastered group dynamics in their writing.

‘Two weeks,’ Mor whispered, trudging forward with her eyes set ahead in a daze. Her heels hit the cobbled path with soft clicks. ‘They’re closed for two weeks. What am I going to do?’

Feyre looped her arm through hers and guided her away from the closed doors of Rita’s. No one took the disappointment as hard as Mor. Still, they each expressed varying degrees of frustration with their grunts and groans.

Cassian cursed aloud for it was his idea to enjoy a night like good old times . And he enjoyed a night like good old times every two months. However that night, the rest of the Inner Circle agreed to celebrate the few peaceful months they'd had in a while.

Except for one.

Azriel was grateful for his family’s reunion and their safety. Only he wanted to celebrate it in the quiet of their home. His family didn’t spare him the courtesy of protesting though. Knowing him well, they sent the middle Archeron sister to plead their case. One look at her hesitant eyes and he couldn’t deny the soft-hearted woman. He had one regret for the night—to have not flown off when he sensed Elaine’s presence on the other side of his door.

When Rita disclosed their misfortune, Nesta pinned him with an accusatory glare as if his ill will had manifested into the burning down of their beloved retreat. She would have calmed if Azriel had stood there with his usual blank stare. Instead, he lifted a brow as a smirk tugged at his lips.

‘At least pretend not to enjoy this so much, you ass,’ grumbled Cass without even looking at his brother.

‘Two weeks!’ Mor shrieked, throwing her arms in the air as she reeled out of the initial shock. Her blonde hair swayed behind her with every shake of her head. ‘How could she do this to me?’

Rhys walked on her other side. Besides Azriel, he was the only one unbothered by the ruin of their plans and his taunting tone was the only sign of his apathy for his cousin’s plight. ‘I’m sure the fire in her kitchen had barely anything to do with punishing you.’

Elaine’s voice perked up as Mor opened her mouth again. ‘We could go somewhere else,’ she inched away with each word as if she expected another outburst. ‘It’s not too late.’

And that’s how Azriel came to hate the woman for the night.

He wasn’t cruel. He loved his family, and he agreed they deserved a break, but it wasn’t something he would sacrifice his peace for. He was ready with his own proposition—go back home, get drunk on faerie wine, and maybe some mirthroot if they resisted too much. His family would have their merriment, and he’d have his serenity.

As they stumbled and meandered through the streets, stopping at one place and the next, vetting out each other’s suggestions, Azriel found himself enjoying the moment—listening to his family’s usual banter, the comfort of familiarity built over centuries, and fussing over triviality instead of wars and courts. If his family chose to spend the entire night on the streets, he would gladly trade his peace for that.

But then, his family arrived at their destination. The last on their list. Another bar. Or at least what it said on the polished plaque that hung above the rusty door frame.

‘This is it?’ Cass spoke first, his words echoing the thought they all had in their minds.

Beyond the worn-out door held in place by a brick wedged between it and the doorframe was a harshly lit long room. Even the open door and cool breeze of the summer night failed to mask the stench of stuffiness from the dingy hole in the wall. Light flickered warning anyone dared contemplate entering the horrid place. Too narrow to hold waiting tables, there stood a sole desk opposite the entrance. Two shelves nailed behind it sloped, the bottles stacked atop them slowly making their way to the edge. Such a place at the centre of Velaris was nothing more than a swamp surrounded by beauty and life.

A woman rotten with age sat behind the table. Her hands jittered with each click of the needles held between her sharp, black claws. Her crooked nose curving past her thin lips and her non-existent ears were the only indications of her faerie blood other than her savage nails. Azriel couldn’t remember the last time he saw a creature that looked so old and fragile, yet with malice in her being, a kind of cruelty that lurked in one’s bones.

Despite what he witnessed, none of it deterred him that night. His body shook with silent laughter. All that wasted trip, endless stops to pick at the tiniest flaws only for his family to end up there .

Mother loved him. The complete disbelief on their faces was worth everything Azriel suffered since he opened his door to Elaine that night. Even his shadows seemed to enjoy the irony of their situation, skittering around his shoulders.

Mor turned to him sharply, her eyes alight with fire. ‘As long as there’s wine, this will do,’ she gritted her teeth.

Pushing his friend, whose only purpose in life was proving a point, was the last thing Azriel wanted to do. Yet it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass. How far would his family go? What would it take to break them? Would they give in and chuck down whatever wretched brew the suspicious creature offered? He merely bowed his head and waved at the door.

Mor swallowed her squeak of disgust as she crossed the threshold. Her eyes ran over the assortment of bottles on the shelves—three filled to the brim with pale green liquid, two half-filled with something that looked awfully like rotten blood, of what Azriel didn’t care to find out.

‘Do you suppose,’ she brought her eyes back to the woman, ‘you have any wine?’

The needles went silent for a beat, ‘Take your pick,’ and resumed. Not once did the creature glance at them as she jerked her chin to the shelf above her head.

With the seven of them now inside, the air turned hot and suffocating. Nesta pushed past to the front, standing next to Mor. ‘This is Pharus, isn’t it? The bar?’

Finally, the faerie looked up. Her eyes roved over their faces, their bodies, the detailing of threads on their clothes finer than the ones she held in her hands.

‘Of course,’ she snarled, ‘why else would you be here?’ Her lazy eyes rolled creepily in their sockets to stop at the door beside the shelf. ‘Over there,’ she said and went back to her hideous patchwork of browns and blues and pinks.

In the silence, a steady thrum of beats crept along the floor. A soft murmur lured them to trust the creature’s words and enter the unknown awaiting them behind the burnished wood, a portal out of the creature’s lair.

Mor stepped up to the door, her eyes on the glass doorknob—hypnotised, curious, so bright. As her fingers brushed against it, the faerie cleared her throat.

‘There’s a price for it,’ she added with a sly smile on her lips, a little thing that didn’t belong in her sagging face.

Azriel fished into his pockets while his family stared between the door and its guardian. His curiosity ebbed and grew to a point of no return. He had to find whatever called to him, whatever called to them . He dropped a gold on the table. It clattered on the wood, its ring echoing for a breath too long.

The faerie stared at it and then at him, and then his family, studying each of their faces. Her claws left scratches on the wood as she grasped the coin in her palm. She sniffed it once and her eyes widened.

The door didn’t make a sound under Mor’s hand. One by one they entered, and Azriel let the door close behind him. Their heels clicked on the polished wooden floor that gleamed under golden lights.

Soothing warmth enveloped them even on the summer night in a comforting embrace. Fragrance of spices cut through the musk of the wooden furniture. Golden orbs hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow across the space enough to enable their fae sight, but none too harsh like Rita’s. Every plush leather chair, strategically arranged table, and carefully curated decorations contributed to the elegance of the room.

A band sat on a raised podium at the far end, playing music that complimented their ambience. In the middle stood the majestic bar, a stretch of counter that ran along almost the entire length of the room. Bottles filled with various shades of liquor sat on the shelves behind—each of them, artistically planned and placed. Lights reflected off decanters and glasses set on trays adding a bit of colour to the brown and gold theme of the room.

Faerie, high and lesser, took the seats without sparing each other a glance of discrimination. There was no stench of tension in the air, only a fragile calmness. Two servers shifted around the room speaking softly with polite smiles on their lips. A female tended to the bar, her hands worked with mesmerising precision. Despite the overflowing liquor, there wasn’t a loud cry, laughter, or chatter.

Luxury and safety—the words came to Azriel’s mind. His shadows shaded his shoulders, falling quiet as they studied their new territory.

One of the servers led them to the only table large enough to fit them and their wings—close to the band. A bench ran along the wall on one side, and chairs occupied the other.

Once they settled, he spoke with a rehearsed tone, ‘I’m guessing you’re new here.’ The hitch in his breath told them he knew exactly who they were, and yet his smile remained. ‘We have two rules. One, we ensure the night’s peaceful as much as possible. So, we don’t appreciate misconduct of any kind, and I’d advise you to stay out of trouble. Two, if our barkeep cuts you off for whatever reason, you leave.’

The server breathed through his teeth. His shoulders relaxed as though the most exhausting part of his job was done, and his smile turned more genuine. ‘Other than that, you do whatever you want. What would you like to drink?’

‘I’ll have faerie wine,’ Mor waited for no one, ‘Any wine. Don’t care how many.’ Her thigh pushed against Azriel’s as she shifted to her comfort on the velvet bench, her warmth seeping past his leathers. A swift nod from everyone else had the server scrambling back to the bar.

Nesta inspected the ones at the neighbouring tables. ‘What kind of moron expects drunks to follow rules?’

‘The one who doesn’t want to be held responsible for whatever happens when they are broken.’ Nesta’s eyes snapped to Azriel’s, and he merely shrugged.

Elaine looked between their faces, expecting the inevitable discussion. But the Inner Circle indulged in spying on their night’s getaway. ‘Are we really ignoring what we saw outside?’

‘Oh,’ the server peered down at them as he set a tray with two wine bottles and glasses with a grace unexpected of his thick, manly fingers. ‘That hag is harmless. She just wastes her day knitting. If she bothered you, it’s because you’re new. Easy prey, you know? The regulars are used to her by now.’

Feyre reached for the glass offered to her. ‘Who is she?’

The server didn’t care to meet their eyes, but his words were eager. ‘She came with the building. This used to be her home. The old owner, her son, wanted to sell this bar. He found a better place for his family. But she didn’t want to move. Night and day they fought so much that people were afraid to even walk the street. Anyway, the son couldn’t resist our offer and sold it, and she—,’ he clicked his tongue, ‘she refused to leave with him. And Ayla didn’t want to leave her homeless.’

Azriel didn’t particularly enjoy the conversation as much as his family did. It mattered very little to the server, whose words tumbled out in a single breath. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time he was telling the story to his customers. He would make a terrible spy, Azriel thought. Maybe a decent source.

'Ayla?’

'She owns the place now. She gave the hag that hall. That’s where she and her husband lived before her son built a bar here.’ He sighed. His eyes swept over the rest of the room once he placed a filled glass in front of each of them. ‘It’s not good for business with a front like that. She scares everyone away. But Ayla insisted, and we renovated around it. Most customers don’t set foot inside after the first time. Some take pity and give her a few coppers. Not that she needs them though. Ayla takes care of all her needs.’

Another heavy breath, and he turned to them with a wide smile, with a server’s politeness. ‘Anyway, enjoy!’ He turned to leave. Then he paused, ‘You didn’t give her anything, did you?’

Every pair of eyes at the table fixated on Azriel. He blinked, ‘A gold.’

‘You better stay away from her the next time.’ The server walked away laughing.

In his long life, and also as a spy, Azriel had met enough faeries ranging from the vilest to the kindest. Nothing fazed him anymore. Though it would have made quite a story on any other day, his focus remained on his family. He would rather figure out a way to coax his friends to leave early than uncover more about a hag and her benefactor. After a long night of searching for a bar which offered wine sweeter than Rita’s, he knew it to be almost impossible.

At her sister’s request, Feyre led Elaine closer to the band, both nursing their drinks in their hands. Loose chairs littered the open space in front of the dais, where they took a seat among other patrons. The musicians nodded at them with a smile.

Cass slammed his glass on the table. ‘I don’t like this place,’ he grumbled, looking at the well-behaved mob, ‘Where’s the fun here? This is not how a bar is supposed to be.’

‘Why? Is this place too classy for a brute like you?’ Nesta smirked, sipping her drink as she surveyed the place. With her usual elegance and simple gown, she fitted in better than the rest of them.

Years of sneaking and spying had ingrained the instincts in Azriel’s very bones, impossible to separate who he was and what he did for his family, for his court. His hazel eyes didn’t miss a thing. His shadows stayed close and whispered in his ears. Careful, calculating. Between the bar and the band stood two doors—one the servers often drifted in and out of with trays in their hands, a kitchen; and the other too pristine to be a back door or entrance to a storage room. An office, maybe. No one entered or exited it since his family took their seats across it.

His brother was wrong. The patrons enjoyed their time, but not the way people did in Rita’s. Like his family, they bundled together and shared a drink and a laugh with their loved ones. Their glazed eyes and flushed faces proved they indulged in the drinks as much as Cass did. A few cleared the space in front of the band, shifting the chairs around and waltzing to the music. A sense of belonging lingered in the air, unlike the mindless chaos that stained Rita’s.

As warned, the bartender declined drinks to a few. Even the ones who posed the most threat to start a fight walked away without resistance. Not one sound of protest or trouble followed.

Elaine and Feyre returned when the band paused to start their next song. As Elaine settled into the seat across from him, she gave the widest smile to Azriel. He smiled back. Rhys filled Feyre’s glass and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Cass and Mor still disagreed with Nesta on the essence of true bar experience. Rhys took Nesta’s side only to watch his brother seethe with anger. With the remaining sisters returned to the table, it became clear Cass and Mor were losing the battle.

To add salt to their burn, Azriel trailed a finger along the rim of his glass and smirked. ‘I like this place too.’

‘You weren’t on board all night and now you have an opinion?’ Cass waved a hand of dismissal but his eyes burned with betrayal, ‘Go back to your brooding.’

Azriel grinned.

Laughing and stumbling, Mor headed to the bar. The bartender blushed so red that it wasn’t a mystery what she was up to. Minutes later, she returned with a bottle of amber liquor and a glass of a blue-green drink. Bottles were emptied, banter was shared, and laughs grew contagious.

Even though it was harmless, raucous laughter, they attracted the wary eyes of the server. Azriel knew where they were headed. He slid Rhys’s glass of whiskey out of his grasp. His brother turned to him with an arched brow. He mumbled, ‘We’d need more than one ride tonight.’

Rhys didn’t argue. He limited his drinks as much as Azriel that night for the sake of his mate. Ever since Feyre, his brother’s usual recklessness waned. He became more attentive and considerate in ways he had never shown before.

Both his brothers were equally troublesome. Cass with his wildness and brutality, and Rhys with his cunning and sly. And yet, after finding their mates, they were still all that and a bit more, someone better in every sense.

Azriel looked at Mor pressed to his side, drunk and smiling. The woman he once loved. And then, Elaine, the one he wondered to be his mate.

Even with the passage of time and endless disappointments, his heart refused to let go of hope—such a fickle thing for an immortal life. An everlasting pain that turned the kindest of souls into a force of cruelty—worse than love, worse than torture, worse than death.

To have heard of and believed in a spiritual bond with another was one thing, but to see it with his own eyes and long for it was not something even a damned soul like him could resist.

Who wouldn’t want something so precious divined by Mother herself, to be blessed by her, to be born fortunate to have a mate in their lifetime and find them?

Azriel knew love, he’d felt it. But how was it any different from a mating bond? Would a love be enough to save his wretched heart from himself? Could a love be as profound and sacred as a mating?

He looked at the happy faces of his family. Four of the seven—mated and in love. One with her supposed mate.

Rare of the rarest.

And there he was. An ordinary rock amongst gems. One Mother didn’t deem worthy enough. Maybe she was right. What was he, after all, but an unlucky bastard? What would it take for Azriel to be one of them? Shadowsinger. Warrior. Servant. Brother. Friend. Survivor. Tortured. Abused. Broken. What more did he need to be to appease Mother to bless him with one miracle?

What would make him one of the deserving?

He took the glass he snatched from his brother and downed the drink in one gulp. The liquor burned his throat, a good burn, almost as good as the one his hands endured a long, long time ago.

Rhys turned to him with a blank stare. Azriel checked his mental wards and averted his eyes. It was pathetic enough to long for something he couldn’t have. He refused to warrant pity from his brothers as well.

His family was together and happy. He breathed in the sweet aroma of the blue-green liquor Mor swirled in her glass.

It was a good night.

As he drank a little more, his shadows ventured out weaving through tables and shuffling feet. Azriel allowed it for a while before he reined them back. But they never answered when they returned, only dancing around his shoulders.

Moments later, they tried again, crawling down his back. The tug and pull of control slipped out of his hands as an invisible force stripped them off him. A gentle caress over his shoulders, coaxing him, easing him to let go. And his shadows followed this force, glad and willing, betraying their loyalty to him. Azriel didn’t touch his drink after that.

As expected, the server approached their table and looked at him, the only one sober enough to be reasonable.

‘We won’t cause any trouble,’ said Azriel before he could speak.

His shadows swayed around the back of his neck and leaned to peer beyond the man in their path. They stood still, unmoving and observing, and then crashed into his shoulder, turning into a dark mist.

The server watched them wide-eyed. He shook his head and peeked behind him at the once-closed door now open. ‘Maybe they could get something mild. Don't let Ayla see them like this.’

With those words, he stalked back to the bartender.

The room in front of him lacked the soft ambience outside with its golden lights and cosy furniture. A desk with a chair occupied the small space, giving a partial view of the bar. A woman bounded down the stairs that ran up from behind the door. She headed to the bar, exchanged a few words with the bartender, and went back inside. The servers paused by the door to greet her before they moved on.

Ayla.

To own a bar for high fae and lesser faeries alike, to have her workers and customers fear her, Ayla was laughably docile. Azriel had spent long enough around women of strength and courage to never judge one by looks, but he couldn’t help it.

In her simple dark pants that flared at the hem and grey-white shirt, Ayla was underdressed than her workers. She was as tall as Feyre, maybe a few inches taller. Her face held a hint of innocence, not close to Elaine’s, but something about her convinced she was harmless. Unless she had a sharp tongue like Nesta or had someone like Mor or Amren to do her bidding, it was unlikely she managed to keep her patrons in line by herself.

‘Azriel,’ called Mor from beside him. Her eyes were unexpectedly fierce after all the wine she had. ‘You’re drinking, right?’ She waved the empty glass in her hand.

He knew he should have said no. He glanced at the server across the room, but Nesta and Mor had already left for the bar. His attention drifted to the three drunk men who stood too close to a young fae trying to get away from them. She inched closer and closer to Mor who whispered into Nesta’s ear making her laugh.

The shadows on his shoulders grew restless, creeping up and down his arms. He should have offered to get the drinks himself.

Cass was in the middle of narrating an elaborate plot of his fights in Illyrian war camps from their childhood days to Elaine as she leaned over the table with enthralled horror in her eyes. Rhys smiled smugly at his exaggerations while Feyre looked over at the bar, thinking the same as Azriel.

The crude comments of the three men circling the fae made the bartender stare between them with nervous eyes. The air silenced around them, nothing but their obnoxious laughter echoed. The smile on Nesta’s lips vanished, and Mor noticed. His friends at the table paused their conversation.

‘Come now,’ one of the men carried on, ‘don’t be like that.’

Ayla looked up from the paper in her hand. She stared ahead where the man would have stood if not for the wall in her path. Dropping the papers onto the table, she reached inside a drawer. As she stepped out of the room, she cradled a leather bracelet to her right wrist, pulling its straps taut against her skin.

The bartender breathed in relief as she eased next to her and took a step back. Ayla gathered her hair, securing it at the nape of her neck as the bartender whispered in her ear. Locks of hair slipped free and framed her face. She swept a glance across the bar, took in the faces seated before her, deliberately shifting over the three men. She stood in front of them, mixing drinks with precision and expertise on par with the bartender. She didn't lift her eyes up again.

The man moved close to the fae who immediately backed away. He spoke into her ear but his words rang across the room. ‘Come on, love. It’s free drink. You should be grateful.’

A minute longer, and Nesta would have ripped that fool’s tongue with a shard of her broken glass. Azriel had seen enough bar fights—started a few and ended too many—to know when one loomed around the corner.

Ayla's eyes darted to the man’s hand reaching for the fae and then his face for a second while her body gave no sign of her attention on anything but the tumbler in her hand.

A smirk tugged at Azriel's lips.

Maybe it was a bad idea to let Mor and Nesta murder a few in a bar they had never visited before. Maybe it was a bad idea not to interfere with their authority which usually saved time with vermin like the man. Or maybe it was a bad idea to let the situation escalate, putting the fae in danger only to see the bar owner’s reaction.

But Azriel was not above making bad decisions to quell his curiosity. He leaned back and brought his glass to his lips.

‘She’s not interested,’ said Ayla in a voice so soft and smooth. With her eyes on the pink liquor she poured into a tall glass, she added, ‘And she has a drink.’

Her eyes met the fae's, gentle yet firm. She pushed the glass with her index finger. The fae heaved a sigh of relief and reached for it.

The man turned his attention to Ayla with a wicked smile. He ran his vile eyes over her and winked. ‘The coins are to shut your mouth, pretty. I’ll come back for you later.’ With a bone-grating chuckle, he returned to the fae who charted for a way to her table. He extended a hand in front of her, ‘So what do you say?’

Oh, how Azriel wanted to tear every tooth from his jaws.

Ayla finally looked at him. Her eyes were calm and intense, a reassured stillness in them. She straightened and placed her hands on the counter. And it was enough to shift the air around them. The woman who commanded respect from her patrons was in the room instead of the quiet, lingering spirit that drifted in and out moments earlier. The band slowed their music, and the ones who refused to look at the ruckus dared to glance their way.

‘I’m going to ask you to leave.’

The man let out a grunt, mean and vulgar. ‘Shut up, you bitch.’ Gone was his smile as he hissed at the fae, ‘You’re starting to make me angry.’

His eyes widened as a hand grabbed the back of his hand and shoved it face-first onto the wood of the counter. His arms flailed miserably to stop the impact, only to fail. The following crunch made the fae flinch away.

Ayla let go and walked around the bar, her steps calculated and leisured. She slipped her dainty fingers through two gold rings attached to the inside of the bracelet.

‘You okay?’ she asked the fae softly as she pulled the fingers away, two cords of metal unwinding between the rings and the leather. Once she got a frantic nod from the fae, she diverted her focus to the crying man who swiped at his face and stared at his bloodied hands.

Cass snorted. His drink sprayed through his nose, drenching himself and poor Elaine. Rhys’s eyes gleamed with amusement. Feyre looked between the three women at the counter.

The man screeched, ‘She hit me! That bitch hit me.’ His nose flared and spurts of blood leaked soaking his shirt. His eyes flashed with anger as he lunged forward, ‘You’ll pay for this.’

Ayla sauntered ahead with lazy steps and swerved when his fist came close. Her left hand went around his head once. The man stumbled forward by the wasted force of his body and his neck caught in the cords.

She pulled her hands back to her sides, the cords went taut, and the man fell to his knees. His bloodied fingers pried at the noose around his neck. His breaths grew shallow and raspy. Blood sprinkled from his nose with each strain of his chest. His pained cries echoed in the quiet. Not even his friends attempted to help him.

‘Whining on the floor,’ Ayla curved her wrist around his head again, watching his eyes grow wider. ‘Leash on your neck. You sure you aren’t the bitch?’

Looking down at him, she clawed his jaw open. Her other hand reached for a bottle on the counter, her void eyes never leaving his. She tipped it close to his mouth and his breath left his chest in a painful heave.

‘It’s free drink, love,’ she said, her voice a lover’s purr. Low and soft. As the liquor filled his mouth and streamed down his shirt mixed with the red of his blood, she gritted her teeth. ‘Be grateful.’

The first emotion she showed.

It was inappropriate.

Utterly inappropriate.

A deep chuckle ripped from Azriel’s throat, loud enough to warrant the glances from his family and the ones beside their table.

When the man choked and his eyes blurred, Ayla stopped. Her fingers released him and slipped out of the rings with a simple flick. The rings whipped spraying drops of amber-red in the air before it latched onto the bracelet again, the cords disappearing between the black of the leather.

She turned to his friends, ‘Don’t come back.’

They nodded and began to back away. The cries of their friend brought them out of their stupor and they carried him out with his blood staining the once perfect floor.

Ayla blinked.

Once they were out the door, she went back behind the counter, and time resumed. The band began their music again. Servers shuffled to clean the floors and check on the fae. The bartender wiped at the splotches of blood off the counter.

Ayla cleaned her hands and continued with her other orders. As she offered drinks to the ones still waiting at the bar, she smiled. Azriel set his glass down.

When she reached Mor and Nesta, she studied their faces and uttered a few words. Mor pointed at their table with a grin, her eyes sparkling under the light swaying over her head.

Ayla spared each of them a glance. Her eyes paused at Cass and his wings, Azriel and his wings, and finally Rhys and behind him where his wings should have been. The shadows didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. They went erratic around his shoulders and for a moment her eyes returned to the shadowsinger again.

‘She’s judging us,’ Rhys muttered through his grin. The amusement in his eyes flickered and she held his gaze. ‘Rather harshly,’ he chuckled.

Feyre frowned at him. ‘Stop it!’

Rhys’s smile fell from his lips. He hummed, staring at Ayla for a beat too long before he turned to his mate. ‘It’s not my fault. Her mind called to me,’ he kissed her cheek.

Azriel wanted to ask what his brother meant, but knew better. His shadows quietened around him, still as midnight air, draping over his shoulders with their ghostly weight. They didn’t sing to him much that night.

Mor and Nesta returned with a tray of drinks. Ayla wrapped an arm around the bartender and whispered in her ear, a smile still on her lips. Azriel wondered if there was more between the two. Ayla rushed out of her room at the first sign of trouble and took charge of every responsibility while the other stayed safe and recovered.

‘I like this place!’ Mor exclaimed as she slumped next to him and handed him a glass after taking one for herself.

Cass only cursed under his breath. ‘Because she gave you free booze?’ He stole a drink for himself, ‘But that show was fun.’

‘So was yours,’ Nesta laughed and pointed at his soaked front.

Ayla accepted a sealed plate from the server, with that smile of hers, and headed to her office. Her hand stilled over the doorknob. Crimson spotted her shirt along her torso below her ribs. She ran her fingers over them once, slowly. She blinked and wiped again at the dried stain. And again. Then she closed the door.

Once the glasses were emptied, Mor hated the place again. The drinks Ayla offered sobered them completely. Grumbling and muttering their disapproval at the trickery and betrayal, Mor and Cass walked out of the bar with the others trailing behind them.

Azriel sneaked a glance at the locked door smiling before he joined his family.

It was indeed a good night.

Next chapter: Sanctuary

#god's game #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar x oc #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses

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surielstea · 9 months ago

Text

The Best I Ever Had

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (Azriel’s ex)

Summary: Reader seeks revenge on her ex-boyfriend, and that revenge just so happens to take the form of a very willing Vanserra.

7.6k words

I've been dating the shadow singer for a little over a year now— but calling it dating seemed to be a stretch. It started with a few dates but inevitably it turned into a cycle of him telling me to come over, we'd hook up, then I'd leave in the morning. If he wasn't busy I'd stay for breakfast, but that was pretty much it.

Now I lay next to him, thoroughly fucked out and sweating. Azriel was a busy male but when he fucked, he fucked good. That fact made me feel selfish for wanting more than just being a casual hookup.

I sigh audibly, sitting up and slipping out of the bed, waddling into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. That was another thing, once Azriel got what he wanted he was kind of done with me, so aftercare was absent and it made me feel like shit.

I huff as I wipe myself down with a warm rag, then splash water over my face and pat it dry with a soft towel.

I met the spymaster through Morrigan, I hadn't been particularly close to the inner circle but Mor was a good friend of mine, and of course, I could see the way he looked at her, admired her with a silent devotion. He has for years while I just watched in the background. Then the three Archeron sisters showed up and he began doing it to Feyre's sister Elain, or Nesta's friend Gwyn. But never me. Never looked at me that way. I was slowly realizing I was becoming a placeholder until something better fell into his lap.

I turn the faucet off and leave the bathing chamber, shuffling back to the bed, slightly defeated. I slide onto the mattress, my boyfriend already sounds asleep with his winged-back facing me. I yawn and decide I’ll voice my opinions tomorrow after a full night's rest, perhaps over breakfast, I could tell him how I feel.

With a plan in mind and enough exhaustion to make a pegasus pass out, I was able to find a light sleep.

The morning greeted me with an empty bed, Azriel's spot empty, and I doubted the male was downstairs making me breakfast. I grumble a curse as I flip the blankets off of me and get up. I simply glance at myself in the mirror and brush my hands through my hair before leaving his room in my nightgown, rubbing at my eyes as I descend the stairs and into the kitchen.

The clatter of a fork sounds and I turn to my left to see the silent shadow singer who had just finished eating. "You didn't want to wake me up?" I say, squinting at the male's silhouette framed by large windows of the morning light behind him. He shrugged in reply. "Figured you'd rather sleep," He murmured as he stood, collecting his dishes and walking towards me.

As he brushes past me towards the sink I remember the loose plan I had put together last night.

"I was thinking," I start. It was now or never. He turned his head to me slightly, signaling that he was listening while he placed his dishes in the basin. "We've been going out for about a year now, maybe we should do something special?" I offer and he turns to me fully, slight confusion creasing his brows. I didn't understand what was so puzzling about it.

"Like what? And when?" He asks, his tone making me feel like I was scheduling a business meeting. I roll my eyes and take a few steps closer. "I don't know, you're always busy," I sigh, making my annoyance clear. He bristles. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, would it kill you to take a break for a day?" I look up at him, my arms behind my back. I hated this. Hated the way he looked down at me as I begged him to just give me the slightest fraction of his attention. He blows out a long breath in contemplation. "I suppose I can take a day off in a couple of weeks," He utters like it's such a chore to leave work.

"A couple of weeks?" I balk with wide eyes and he shrugs again. "I'm not that flexible," He explains and my frown deepens. "Just the other day you took off to help Morrigan with writing letters to the continent," I argue. "That's, different," He said with a slight hesitance in his voice. "How so?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Because that's Mor," He muttered and a pang of hurt bloomed in my chest. My lip quivered at the words but I maintained my composure. "Listen, I'm not trying to make you sad I'm just telling you the truth," He craned his neck, stretching it out like I was tiring him out with this conversation. "Which is?" My brows raise a fraction. He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, rethinking what he was about to say.

Instead of speaking at all, he leans in and presses a light kiss to my lips, his hands coming to the back of my neck as he slants his mouth over mine. There was no passion behind it, just a move to shut me up and I was a fool to fall for it.

He kisses down my jaw, making his way to my neck where his marks from last night were already fading. His other hand finds my thigh, pushing me up against the counter and hiking up my dress. "Az," I place a hand on his chest. "Az, I don't want to have sex," I murmur, pushing him away and he backs off, confusion in his eyes because that hack has worked every time before.

"I just, I wanted you to look at me the way you look at Elain, or Gwyn, or—" I start. "Don't be ridiculous," His hands come to my cheeks as he interrupts me. "I'm not with them now am I?" He tilts his head. "No, but, you would be as soon as they called," I reason and his gaze falters because he knows I'm right.

"Don't think like that," He shakes his head. Then presses his lips to mine again, his hand returning to my thigh. "Don't think," He whispers and that sets me off. I push him away harder, sending him stumbling a few feet back. He looks at me like I've gone insane. I'm sick of it, sick of feeling so compliant when he wanted me and when he didn't. I was easy to please, and he liked easy, but he loved a challenge more.

"If you're not going to even take the time to make your girlfriend feel like she means anything to you, then," My breath hitched and a stupid smirk came across his features when I didn't finish my sentence. "Then what?" He scoffs. "You're gonna break up with me? Then when you can't find a male who fucks you better than I can you'll come crawling right back, I know how you are," He crossed his arms over his chest and I hated it. Hated that he was right. Because he was such an arrogant asshole but he was handsome and knew how to pleasure a woman. Which was rare to find in the Night Court.

"No, I'm done this time," I stand my ground. "Don't be like this," He sighed at the dramatics of it, looking up to the ceiling like I was draining him. "You always do this," He shakes his head. "I'm serious," I bite out. "Yeah, sure you are," He scoffs, unbelieving of my words as he leaves the kitchen without another word.

I'm serious. I hated being treated like this. I have a long life ahead of me, I can find someone better, perhaps go to another Court where I won't be given such limited options.

I collect my things, forgetting about the rest of my clothes in Azriel's room as I shrug on my jacket, I looked ridiculous with the oversized leather jacket over my short nightgown but I was only going home.

I gave one last look at the house before slipping out and closing the door with a particularly hard slam, making sure he heard I proudly took my leave.

My pride didn't last long before tears began to stream down my face. It was foolish to be crying over my own decision but I couldn't help it. Leaving him meant leaving the entirety of the inner circle, and as close as Morrigan and I were, she'd choose Azriel without a second thought. I knew it, she knew it, and he definitely knew it. So now I was walking through the streets of Velaris teary-eyed, hands shaking as I attempted to wipe them away but inevitably I gave up and just let them run, let myself crumble into the dejection of it all.

I had a house in the hewn city, it wasn't a home necessarily but, it would make do for a few nights until I figured myself out. I muster all of my energy and source my power, before winnowing back to the Court of Nightmares. I sigh in relief to be home, a shock to myself since this is the last place I'd ever want to be. Yet here I was, in my shitty apartment with little to live for. I slump onto the couch and curl into a ball, then just allow myself to bawl and promise myself this is the last time I’ll ever cry over the shadow singer again.

It had been a week.

Azriel was right when he said I’d crawl back to him. This sort of thing happened often, we’d argue then I’d leave until eventually I got too lonely and find my way to his doorstep, he’d take me back and we would pretend to forget about what had happened until the cycle repeated, over, and over, and over again.

But I was done this time. I promised myself I was done and I’m sticking to it. A week was the longest I had gone without going back to him so I took myself to the flower shop down the street to treat myself to something as a reward. Flowers had always brought a smile to my face. Azriel never quite understood when I’d bring him to the gardens, he didn’t see the beauty of them, the way they all lived so harmoniously with each other. So he rarely went to the flower markets with me, it especially hurt when I found out Elain and him had visited the gardens more than—

I shook my head, voiding my thoughts of the spymaster and focusing on the beauty of the white dahlias in front of me. I picked up the bouquet and went to the clerk’s cart to pay. I had visited her whenever I was in the Hewn City, so it was nice to see the familiar face.

She smiles brightly when she sees me. “Just the dahlias for today?” She asks in a raspy tone and I nod. “Yes, but I’ll most likely be back tomorrow for those daffodils tomorrow,” I say, placing five marks down on the counter. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” She says, taking the bouquet from my hands and wrapping it in a burlap paper. “My tulips bloomed this morning, they should be in stock by the end of the week,” She hinted and I grinned at her memory of my favorite flower. “A pleasure as always, Moe,” I say as she hands me the wrapped bouquet.

“Have a good day!” She calls back and I wave at her from over my shoulder before walking down the cobblestones back towards my apartment.

It was a short walk, only around the corner, I had been a few yards away from my apartment yet somehow I still managed to clumsily ram right into a wall while staring down at the flowers— no, not a wall, a male who barely even faltered as I stumbled back. "Sorry, you alright?" Warm hands come to my shoulders, steadying me. I look up to see a familiar set of amber eyes, ones that could only belong to one Eris Vanserra. "Oh, it's you," He uttered but his voice didn’t carry any distaste, only simple curiosity in his gaze. "Are you okay?" The male asks and I was surprised at the concern of his voice.

I often ran into Eris, so much so that it had become sort of a thing between us. I had never loathed him like the others, I understood him better than the rest of the inner circle who had never tried to see more than just a monster. It was clear to me that he was nothing like his father, no matter how much he tried. So clear that it had been a shock to me when Rhys didn’t understand he was only wearing a mask, even when the High Lord had to do something similar while Under the Mountain.

"I'm fine," I shrug with a hurried motion, Eris was also good at reading me, leaving me terrified that he’d somehow see right through my feigned smile. "You sure?" One of his hands left my shoulders only to lift my chin, angling it up towards him. "Who's got a pretty girl like you crying?" He tilts his head, and I blanch. How was he so good at that? I pull away from his touch and avoid his piercing gaze.

"I'm fine," I repeat. "You're a terrible liar, sunshine," He intoned.

Sunshine. A nickname that was only used to remind me that I didn't belong in the Night Court, didn't belong with the Inner Circle at all. There was no place for the sunshine in a place that thrived in darkness.

"Where's that bastard of yours, I doubt he'd like you running around the Hewn City dressed like that," He gestures to my low-cut dress, my cardigan parted just enough to reveal any excessive, albeit impressive amount of cleavage. I press the flowers to my body and a smirk grows over his lips. "He wouldn't care," I grumble. "Really?" He tilts his head. I shrug. "We broke up last week," I don't know why I told him. Some undiscovered part of me has always trusted him, so much that my actions have often betrayed my own thoughts.

"Is that right?" A smile curves his features, nothing but amusement in his tone. "You could at least pretend to feel bad," I frown.

"Why? He lost something he didn't deserve, you gained the freedom to be with someone better. It's a win in both cases, for you at least," He justifies, and a small smile tugs at my lips. "There she is," He admires and maybe it was because I was looking for revenge, or maybe it was because Eris and I had always flirted, but I couldn't help but feel this magnetic pull to the male.

"Hey, do you want to come inside?" I offer, brushing past him and walking up the steps of my apartment, he blinks in shock, I was surprised with myself just as much but I didn't show it. "Just to talk, I'll open a bottle of wine?" I added and his cool demeanor returned.

"Why not," He hummed.

"You're telling me, he did all that— then didn't even provide aftercare?" Eris said in pure disbelief and I nodded with a sigh, thinking myself stupid for letting a male treat me so poorly.

I had spilled most details of my relationship with the Shadow singer to Eris, it may have been wrong to vent to one of the male's many enemies but I owed him nothing anymore, it wasn't like Eris could do much with the details of our relationship anyway.

We sat on my couch, too small for his large legs so I was positioned with my feet in his lap, not that I was complaining once he started tracing shapes on the tops of my knees mindlessly. Eris actually listened, it hadn't been something I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. This easy conversation that made me feel like he wanted to be a part of it. Perhaps it was the three glasses of wine or the glint in his eyes, but what he said next left my head reeling.

"I have a meeting with him today, maybe I should mention it," He hummed, his tone so casual I could hardly tell if he was being serious or not.

"It hurt," I mumble, unsure if I was referring to the sex itself or how he treated me. "It shouldn't," He replies with that damned look in his eyes, reassuring every part of my turmoil. "I know," I shrug.

He doesn't reply, his eyes linger on mine, something beneath that gaze that reminded me so much of how I used to look at Azriel, a certain yearning that I've known so well it was hard to mistake it for anything else.

But before he does something he'll regret, before he gets me attached his breath catches in his throat and he suddenly stands. I look up at him curiously with creased brows.

"Well thanks for the drink, sunshine," He says. I stand, following him to the door like some dog. Was I capable of honing independence for five seconds?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need to be walked out," He gives me a crooked smile, and something foreign pangs in my chest, something I hadn't even felt with Azriel. "But, it was just," I struggle to find exactly what I wanted to say. "Never mind," I sigh, spinning on my heel, angling back to the couch but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to face him. "It's okay, use your words," he eased and I swore I didn't imagine his thumb stroke on the back of my palm.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to help me get back at the spymaster," I utter and his brow lifts a fraction. "Are you always plotting in that pretty head of yours?" He leans against the doorway, clearly interested. "You can say no if you want—" I start. "Tell me what I have to do," he sighs and a small smile curves my lips.

"How would you feel about faking a relationship, for the sole purpose of making him mad, nothing more I promise," I say. His brows raise and his hand leaves the knob of my front door. "Why don't I come with you, to the meeting?" I propose. A grin curves his lips. "Look at you scheming," He hums and I roll my eyes. "Who do you think I learned it from?" I smile and he returns it. "Go get cleaned up then, I'll wait," He leans against the closed door and I nod, spinning on my heel and walking down into the hall.

Faking a romance with Eris had been easier than I had thought. Our touches were casual, before the others had even arrived he had his arm slung around my shoulders as if he'd been at my side for the past century. Maybe this was all to get back at Azriel, but my hand on his abdomen didn't have to be there, and I didn't have to look up at him like he stole the breath from my very lungs but it was involuntary, something that couldn't be helped when around him.

He was regal, his features sharp and his words sharper. But more importantly, he actually looked at me, looked at me like I was anything worth importance and more than just a distraction. "You nervous?" He asks, his other arm coming around my waist as I turn to him fully. Everything was so natural, whatever this tether was between us rendered any awkward tension and allowed a casual intimacy.

"No," I shake my head and I meant it, I didn't feel scared with his arms around me, his warm hands splayed over my waist as if they were meant to be there. "You think we'll be convincing enough?" He tilts his head down at me. I peer up at him through my lashes, wrapping my arms around his neck— something about him made me feel so bold, so powerful, so content.

"You want to practice?" He offers with a smirk. "It couldn't hurt," I whisper, his mouth just inches from mine. "Unless you bite," I add and his smirk widened. "Only if you want me to," He shrugs. I grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down, his lips sealing over mine with a fervent force that was unknown to me, his hands mapped my body as he slowly pushed my back into a trunk of a tree, he was entirely addicted to the way I felt, the way I tasted. He was at my mercy and entirely satisfied with the fact.

I arch up into him and he kisses me deeper, pushing me harder into the tree as his tongue swiped over my bottom lip with a needy intent. I parted my lips just wide enough for his tongue to take control, worshipping my mouth like a temple and I could only let him, knew no better but to comply because I loved it, loved the attention, the feeling of him giving me his all while I met him halfway, giving and taking.

“Gods, are you done?” A familiar voice grumbles from the distance and I freeze, Eris’s lips slip from mine, and a broad smirk breaks across his features as he turns to face two winged men, revealing me in the process.

Their eyes weren’t on Eris like mine were, they were pinned directly on me. I smile softly as Eris possessively tightens his hold around my waist, fingers digging into my skin through the material of my dress.

Cassian and Azriel continued to gawk at me, the both of them held straight expressions but their eyes didn’t leave me once, brows twinged upward in both shock and concern, as if I was in any more danger with Eris than with Azriel.

“Are we going to get this over with or are you going to continue to stare?” Eris cut through their gazes and both their eyes snapped towards him. “What’s she doing here?” Azriel seethed, crossing his arms over his chest like he always did when he was infuriated. He was so easy to read for a spymaster. Eris seemed to have recognized this too, anyone angry had little control over what they said, making Eris gain the high ground.

“We can trust her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” The male beside me retorts. Azriel only ground his teeth in reply.

The meeting had started and they began talking about politics, to which I quickly tuned out. Azriel made a few digs at me but it was nothing but a toddler lashing out over not getting what he wants.

It was amusing to watch his cool demeanor deteriorate while Eris found every weakness and dissected it with insults and remarks, I just stared up at the red-haired male with an amused grin, my arms wrapping around his torso, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of his hand that had been slung around my shoulders.

I can remember kissing Azriel’s hands, the scars, it was one of our better moments. It was a low blow to do it to Eris too but it had happened without thought, like an instinct and it made Azriel absolutely feral.

Once the meeting was over Cassian was quick to grab Azriel’s arm and tell him to winnow before he could say anything he’d regret.

“Always a pleasure Cassian,” Eris smiled to the male. “Shadow singer,” He nods his head. “If you don’t mind I’d like to leave early, we have places to be,” Eris looks at me with a smile and I return it. “Yeah enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Azriel spat and I smirked. “You’re the one who told me to find someone who could fuck better than you,” I scoff. “Don’t be jealous because I did.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when I had you before you started whoring yourself around—” He started. “Az,” Cassian warned, even his brother was upset at him. It felt good to make him hurt, felt like power. Eris looked like he was about to retort, looked angry, and angry meant having little control over what you say so I placed a hand on his abdomen and he clamped his mouth shut with a low growl. He knew this was my battle, knew it should go out on my terms. However, that didn’t stop his fingertips from singing with fire.

“It’s humiliating, honestly Az,” I tease. “Don’t call me that,” He bites but I ignore him. “First you lose Elain to Lucien, and now me to his brother?” I say like it’s something to study, a truly demeaning tone. It made him furious. “Maybe you’d be better off going for girls who don’t want you,” I shrug and the spymaster snarled, Cassian winced at the indirect mention of Morrigan. “Just a suggestion,” I shrug, then look to Eris, signaling that I’m finished.

“Excuse us,” Eris flashes them a smile as he slips his warm hand into my cold one. Eris doesn’t wait for them to reply before he winnows us away, back to my apartment.

“You’re a lot more cunning than you look, Sunshine,” Eris says, his hand leaving mine in favor of coming to my cheek as I peered up at him. “I wasn’t too mean, was I?” My brows crease in worry. I wanted to get back at Azriel, sure, but I wasn’t looking to break any alliances. “There’s the girl I know,” He uttered. “I didn’t mean to be impolite— I just,” I begin to ramble until he tilts my head up manually to face him, making me seal my lips shut at the wonder in his eyes, how he looked at me the way no one has before.

“You were perfect,” He reassured. “And watching you tear him apart was awfully attractive,” He smirked. “I did not tear him— what do you mean?” I snap my head up to look at him and he shrugs. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to,” He shrugs. He wanted to?

“Do you, still want to?” I asked meekly with his hands on my cheeks and my heart pounding against my ribs so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“So shy,” He observes with a growing smile. “That’s okay, we can work on that,” He says like it’s a pressing issue, clearly excited to corrupt it out of me.

I rise onto my toes and crash my lips onto his, warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach at the sensation. My hands came to his jaw while he traveled down onto my waist, one finding purchase at my hip while the other came under my hip, tapping twice and indicating for me to jump. I wrap my legs tightly around his torso as he catches me.

My back bows as he leans into it, tilting my head to the side and opening my mouth for his tongue. We blindly stumbled down the hallway, he must’ve been guessing his steps because he was too busy with his lips on mine, too enamored with our kiss to ask which door was my bedroom.

He got lucky and opened the door to the master chamber, quickly closing the door behind him.

I didn’t want to waste another moment without his skin to mine, a moment without him inside of me, a moment without his hands in my hair— so I was grateful when my back met the mattress of my bed and he crawled over me, settling between my open legs, hovering above me with his hands on either side of my head.

We were both panting when he pulled away, need blazing in his eyes like a fire and I leaned closer to smother it, or get burned by it, I hadn’t decided yet.

His lips reconnected with mine and I was quick to reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling him free from the fabric that strained against his muscular arms while he worked at the ties of my dress.

We were a tangle of limbs and needy pulls until eventually he thrashed my dress off and I unbuckled his pants. He breathed deeply as he pulled away, taking my bare body in, studying every curve and fill of my figure. Gods he looked like an animal with that glint in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” He confessed, head dipping into my neck and leaving sloppy love bites trailing from my jaw to my collarbone. “You imagined this?” I murmur, attempting to tease him but it came out all too soft and innocent. “Fuck, every night baby,” He admits and my cheeks flush.

He manages to get his pants off, freeing himself from the constraints of his boxers. I nearly gasped at the sight of him because, Mother, he was huge.

“Eris I don’t think I can,” I look down at his erect member with creased brows, afraid he might split me in half.

“I know baby, it’s okay, we’ll stretch you out first,” He reassured, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and I nodded, trusting him.

“You want my tongue or fingers?” He questions and his sultry gaze leaves me wanting his lips on mine. “Fingers,” I say, only because I favored his lips when they were kissing me. I’d have to see how good he was with his tongue at a different time.

He flashed an animalistic smile before leaning down and sealing his mouth over mine, tongue immediately finding its place swirling with mine, not a battle but a dance.

He practically rips my panties off, and then two of his fingers dive into my soaked folds, my arousal lubing his hand. He smiles at the feel of me, how wet I was over just a few kisses.

His thumb made contact with my clit and I arched, a soft moan slipping from the base of my throat and he caught it with his mouth. He smirks, his fingers beginning to circle over my pulsing entrance, I ached for him, for all of him.

“Eris,” I pleaded out and that was all he needed before he sent both of his long, wide fingers into my cunt. I gritted my teeth at the stretch, holding back moans as he began to curl them expertly inside of me, flicking over that sensitive spot with ease like he knew exactly where I wanted him.

“Fuck, so good at that,” I murmur incoherently, sweat lining my brow as he continues to pleasure me with his hand alone.

His thumb returned to that delicate bud, teasingly circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. My breathing becomes heavy as a symphony of moans is pulled from my chest. There was no way to explain the feeling in my abdomen, the feeling he caused. It was engrossing and hot, so fucking hot.

He was like a furnace above my body, absorbing all the heat from the room so he could possess it, burning over me.

“Eris, I can’t s’too much,” I whisper helplessly and his hand continues to work, continuing its relentless pleasure over my pussy.

“Be a good girl and cum on my hand, alright?” He instructs and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling that orgasm pick up then tumble over that fine line. My legs jolt as I find release, doing exactly as he said and reaching my high on his fingers alone. “That’s it, just like that,” He hummed, helping me down from my climax as he pulls his fingers from my stimulated cunt.

“You think you’re ready to take me Sunshine?” He tilts his head with a caring look in his eyes, if I didn’t know any better I’d think he was being mean, but his touches were gentle and his movements were slow, hinting that if I wasn’t ready he would stop and we could go to bed now.

“I want you inside Eris,” I confess. I wanted him more than just inside. I was ready to cut myself open and allow him to dissect me, analyze me. But I’d have to settle for this connection instead. “Please,” I beg, tears at the corners of my eyes from my earlier release and he nods. “Tap me twice if it’s too much alright?” He kisses my cheek with the intimacy of lovers who have been tangled in bedsheets for decades. “Okay,” I nod.

We watch as he aligns his heavy cock with my entrance, a pearl of his pre-cum budding at his red, angry tip. He swipes himself through my folds a few times, the weight of him alone enough to satisfy. He lathers himself in my arousal, then strokes himself once, twice, until finally, he pushes his head into my aching slit. He grunts at the tight feeling and I was unsure if I was pushing him out or sucking him in.

He moves deeper, going quicker as to get the most uncomfortable part for me over with. His movements remain gentle, my fingers intertwine into his deep, auburn hair. Whiskey-colored eyes stare down at me half-lidded and it only leaves my heat sopping wet.

I swallow my moans as he reaches halfway, then deeper. He brushes over that perfect, sensitive spot then somehow goes further. I hadn’t even known it was possible to be so fucking long because by the time he had sheathed himself entirely his tip lightly kissed my cervix.

I writhed beneath him as he began to pull in and out, thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace, feeling out what made me feel good and where he was when I moaned the most. He was specializing this entirely to me and how it made me feel.

“Faster,” I panted. “Fuck, Eris I want you feral,” I plead, the tears that had been threatening at my eyes now spilling onto my cheeks, down onto the mattress below my head. He followed my instruction, picking up his pace and beginning to piston himself into me with such a maddening force that the bed began to creak against the power.

He held me tight so I didn’t move up the bed with his movements, and the sounds, the wet, lewd sounds of his cock entering me over and over sent me into a moaning mess.

“Spread your legs,” He ordered. I did as he said, going as far as I could manage. “That’s it, wider baby,” He hummed and I let out a cry of pleasure as he brushed my cervix at his next thrust, breath leaving my lungs momentarily at the feeling. He smirks at the way I squeezed him tighter. He grabbed my thighs and forced my legs apart himself, folding me in half and bringing them up to my chest, holding me in a mating press.

I whimpered at the realization that I was completely vulnerable for him, laid entirely bare and I fucking loved every second of it.

A fire roared in the hearth, the warm light making his skin practically glow with the sheen of sweat on his chest. “You’re so tight,” He grunted out in between thrusts. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.” My pussy pulsed at that, at the unapologetic force of his shaft as he rammed into me, the dirty words, the perfect sounds that filled the room.

Eris continues to push into me, faster this time, his speed outmatched and the look in his eyes, pure lust. He leans down and trails kisses from the side of my neck, taking in the expanse and leaving it with marks and saliva. He kisses to the back of my ear, his soft whimpers inaudible if he was any farther sent me reeling, gods he whined every time he drove into me and I loved every fucking moment of it.

“All mine,” He purrs at the shell of my ear, his breath fanning over my jaw. “All yours,” I reply and he twitches at the devoting words. “No one else can fuck you this good, isn’t that right?” He hums and I mewl— because he was right, he sent me to planets of pleasure, the emotion behind each of his thrusts left me convulsing.

“Mhm,” I nod. “Best I ever had, Eris,” I pant and he smiles, nipping at my earlobe before returning his attention to rolling his hips over mine, his balls slapping against my ass as my slick drips onto my thighs.

He continues to push into me, every injection harder and deeper than the last leaving me to spiral beneath him. His base rubbed against my clit and that had been my breaking point. “Eris, I’m gonna—” I couldn’t even get the words out. “I know, me too baby go ahead,” He allowed and with his next thrust hitting my cervix I found that sweet ecstasy and it was more than just a wave of pleasure it was a tsunami, crashing down onto me with a force I thought I’d never recover from. I felt full, complete.

He followed soon after, his release pumping into me and painting my walls white, and gods he was so close to my womb I could feel his warm seed seep into my cervix while I milked his cock dry.

I pant and my legs jolt as he guides them away from my chest and slowly pulls himself from my throbbing cunt, still squeezing him in despite just experiencing the best orgasm of my life.

He flipped over onto the pillow beside me. Our pants filled the room as the fire dwindled into ash and we were left in the darkness, with nothing but the company of each other.

We lay there for only a moment before Eris left my side on the bed, pulling his boxers back up. I assume he’s going to leave now that whatever transaction this was is over, and even if I felt my heart crumbling to pieces I’d let him go. We didn’t owe each other anything, there was no reason for him to stay anymore, even if I wanted him to.

I ignored the noises of clothes ruffling and drawers opening, closing my eyes and waiting for him to leave until I got up to clean myself.

That was until warm arms came beneath my back and thighs, hoisting me up into his arms bridal style.

“What are you doing?” My brows crease, arms wrapping around his neck involuntarily. “I’m getting you cleaned up,” He explains with such a casual smile it makes my heart beat twice as fast.

He led me into the bathroom and placed me on the cool counter, the apex of my thighs aching with an already developing soreness. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” He offers, finding a rag beneath the sink and wetting it with warm water. “You were with me for most of my day,” I mumble and he smiles at the fact. “Tell me about before, talk to me,” He says and an odd feeling begins to spread in my chest, the kind that made my cheeks flush and my head spin.

So I did. I told him about my day, how I went to the flower market and ran into a familiar face, how I invited him in for wine and it managed to end in the best sex of my life.

I also told him about how I felt when I was getting my revenge on Azriel. Told him that it made me feel powerful, but also that I was satisfied where it ended and I wasn’t interested in associating with him at all any longer.

I told stories, topics varying in length until I was sure I had been talking his ear off— but he was listening, chiming in now and then, signaling that he was still tuned in to whatever I had to say. It was healing to talk about all of this while he cared for me, his touches gentle and his calloused fingers warm. He healed internal scars with those hands.

When I cleaned myself up I wiped myself down and then changed into a nightgown before getting into bed. He took his chance to go above and beyond, he even offered a bath but I told him I was tired so he only wiped me down in touches so featherlight I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been staring at him in the low lighting the entire time.

He brushed through my hair and made sure I was okay and safe. I had realized he was so gentle with me because of the way his father had treated women in the past, his mother in particular. Becoming a male like that seemed to be Eris’ greatest fear, which made clear why he was so soft with me. And perhaps it was also because I deserved the kindness.

“This one?” He held up my softest nightgown and I nodded, putting my arms up so he could slip it over my head. He grinned as I adjusted the dress down past my head, leaving my hair in my face, making me grin wildly. He reached out and brushed it behind my ears.

“I love that smile,” He hums and my cheeks burn with a blush. He then leans in and presses a loving kiss to my lips. I had never experienced anything quite like it and now I never wanted anything else. He pulled away, analyzing my features beneath the dim light, and if I wasn’t red from his earlier comment I definitely was now.

“Alright, let’s get you into bed,” He reached beneath my thighs and hoisted me up into his arms, carrying me back into my room and then laying me down on the soft mattress.

I sigh contentedly as he slips into the bed beside me. “Can you hold me,” I whisper, feeling confident enough around him to ask such a thing. “Was planning on it,” He smirks, wrapping his arm around my torso, and pulling me right into his chest.

I smirk excitedly, slinging my leg over his torso and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. “I thought you were tired?” He murmured as I pecked all over his face in lazy kisses. “I don’t want to waste this,” I confess and his gaze softens. “I’ll be here in the morning,” He reassured and I swallowed thickly. “Promise?” I murmur and he nods, pressing a hard kiss on my forehead. “I promise, sunshine.” And those words sent me into the first peaceful slumber I’ve had in a while.

Eris had not been in the bed next to me when I awoke. A sense of hurt and betrayal ran through me at the sight of the empty bed. I audibly groaned in defeat, muttering curses into my pillow because last night had left me so hopeful, but I suppose what’s easy in the evening is a drag by morning.

I huff and slip from my covers, adjusting the straps of my nightgown and leaving my bedroom with small, waddling steps due to my horribly sore legs.

I continued my slow, depressing trudge until I made it into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Eris leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

“You’re going to get burned cooking shirtless,” I warn, ignoring the visible release of tension in my shoulders. Because he held up his promise, even better, he’s making me food. He whirls around to face me with a small smile. “I won’t get burned,” He scoffs, holding his hand out to the fire of the stove, the flames growing then reaching towards him and forming into a ball in his palm.

I marveled and walked closer, staring straight into the flickering ball of heat, dangerously close. “You won’t either,” He says, uncurling his fingers and allowing the fire to stretch into a line of flames leading from me to him. My breath hitched as the flame came into contact with my skin but it didn’t burn, in fact, it barely even tickles. The serpent of fire twines around my wrist, dancing along my skin and I smile, looking up at him excitedly like I was the one controlling it.

“See? You’re safe,” He says then retracts the flames and feeds them back into the fire at the stove. Safe. That was the feeling that’s been filling that pit in my stomach.

“Now, you hungry?” He tilts his head and I look up at him in wonder, why was I ever settling for less when I could have everything I ever wanted with him?

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips hard onto his, attempting to show my gratitude through the action, my chest pressing to his as his arms came around me, heating my frame as I exposed my fragile heart to him and he returned the movement with the same tenderness. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled against my mouth, making me smile giddily up at him.

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cassianfanclub · 1 year ago

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“This time, you sent the trembling fawn to find me. I did not expect to see those doe-eyes peering at me from across the world.”

Happy Elain Archeron Week Day 6: Fanged Beast

One of my absolute favorite theories in this fandom is that Elain will be able to traverse the murky realm, like the Mystics in HOSAB. @wingedblooms incredible mind connects details in a way most only dream of and has helped to further my excitement for Elain’s book and journey. You can find the two main theories that inspired this piece here and here.

The first time we see Elain peer across the world, she is doing so as a trembling fawn, but my hope is that, she will peer across worlds on her way to becoming a fanged beast and embrace that side of her in her own book.

In this piece, Elain has left behind Az and Bryce in Velaris, and stepped into the murky realm, only to be greeted by a waiting Apollion, mirroring Az. Apollion’s black eyes, deep and dark as the Pit in which he dwells- a telltale sign that his relaxed posture is nothing more than a trick to give a false sense of calm. But I have confidence Elain’s fangs and claws will get her back home.

A massive thank you to @luxury_banshee on IG for creating this piece for me💕

You can find this art on IG here

Please do not repost

@elainarcheronweek

#elain archeron week 2023 #pro elain #elain acheron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #bryce quinlan #hofas theory #crescent city #acotar 5 #acotar fanart #fan art #acotar #maasverse #sarah j maas #seer #mystic #pro elriel #house of sky and breath

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Rainy Season - Part 7

Final Chapter and Epilogue

Everybody’s Got Somebody but Me

Azriel Eris x Reader

Azriel pleads his case to his mate before the Inner Circle, an unexpected interruption sheds additional light on the situation, Y/N makes a decision.

Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

The room thrummed with erratic energy as everyone awaited the arrival of the Shadowsinger. Eris watched intently as Y/N kept a collected facade before the present group, but behind her eyes a tumultuous storm raged. She hadn’t seen her mate since she’d left - since he’d betrayed her - and maybe she was a coward for facing him before an audience of his loved ones but she was done tip-toeing the line, done praying that the words falling from her mate’s lips were truth when he’d done nothing but spin ugly lies from that beautiful mouth. She wanted the real story, the whole story, and Truth Teller itself couldn’t extract it better than the audience before them.

Her gut-wrenched with his nearing presence, the doors would open any moment as guards would bring him in, before her, before his family, before Eris and her sister.

The only missing parties in the space were Amren who had stayed behind in Velaris to keep a presence in place and Nesta who had other matters to attend to. Mor’s attendance was welcome but not required, given the obvious histories between she and Eris - her mate.

Eris kept an amused facade beneath his own surface, though he was anything but. Y/N looked resplendent seated at the lone chair at the head of his table. Seated to her right, he kept a respectful distance, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and warm her shaking hand under the table.

And Eris couldn’t be certain by the flat expression on his face, but he could have sworn the slightest gleam of amusement glimmered in Lucien’s eye as the mechanical one focused in on a clearly unimpressed Camila who was unabashedly taking stock of the middle Archeron sister at his side.

The door unlatched, all traces of civility falling from Rhys’ face as Azriel stepped into the now darkened room.

Azriel looked terrible, the purple bruises and dark circles under his eyes draining the remaining life from his sallowed skin, eyes red and puffy.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, burying down the instinct doing its damndest to get her to run to her dejected mate.

Azriel looked straight past every single person at the table, not even sparing a glance to the seething High Lord staring daggers in his direction. His hazel eyes blew wide as they honed in on his mate. His perfect fucking mate. He truly had drained so much from her, hadn’t he? Never once stopping to notice the signs.

Now, before him was a divine female - full in all the places he’d once gripped so fervently, her complexion radiant, hair lustrous, lips so delectable he wanted to bite them. There was no broken female here, this was a female who has been living a life of love and joy. The only thing missing was her bright smile, now absent in his presence.

Another thing he’d taken from her.

“Y/N”, Azriel mouthed, no sound coming out as the guards kept the cuffed hands he tried to outstretch in her direction restrained.

Her pointed silence and the clunk of the guards boots filled the room as Azriel was lead toward his space between Cassian and Rhys at the table. Y/N now noting the correlation between the bruises on Azriel’s face and a few scattered on Cassian’s.

Rhys’ voice entered her mind. “Azriel started a fight with Cassian that led to us finding out about he and Elain. When Cassian realized, he went feral on him. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen those two fight like that. By the time Cassian was done with him, I couldn’t in good conscience lay a hand on him.”

“They shouldn’t have fought over this. But I bet you not laying a hand on him though he knew you wanted to hurt his ego more than any punches would have.”

Feyre joined in the mental conversation, adding “He’s just lucky Nesta wasn’t there when they found out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, assuming that Nesta would have remained neutral in the ordeal. Not out of cruelty, but given her love and protective tendencies toward Elain as well as her friendship with Azriel and their Valkyrie training.

Azriel looked to his mate, once again wordlessly mouthing. “Y/N, please.” Finally taking in the crowd before him, he paled further.

“Cat got your tongue, Shadowsinger?” Eris mused. Fury lined Azriel’s features at the smug tone. Rhys only let out a bitter chuckle though he found nothing funny about the predicament they’d found themselves in, his violet gaze narrowed in on his brother. “You found a work around with our bargain by finding your mate outside of the Summer Court, but couldn’t find a work around on the matter of being barred from communicating with her? Just how did you expect this whole plan to work out?” He didn’t wait for a response to the question as he waved to the bargain tattoo. “I rescind the bargain tattoo, you may speak to her for as long as she’ll allow it.”

Azriel paid no mind to Rhys, his chest heaved as he frantically spouted out, “Can we speak in private, my love? Just you and me.”

Eris bristled internally at the pet name but Y/N didn’t falter as she replied “You lost the right to call me that the moment you took another female to bed.”

Elain fidgeted in her seat, eyes downcast. Camila bouncing her murderous gaze back and forth between she and Azriel.

To his credit, Azriel took the blow. This was a bed of his own making and he knew it, they all knew it. There was no sense in trying to deny it.

His mate’s head remained held high as she continued, “By the grace of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, the consequences of your attempted infiltration of this keep have been resigned to your own High Lord.“

Shame flooded Azriel’s face but he let her continue.

“As for me? All I ever wanted was your love and commitment. I gave so many chances and when it finally seemed like you might get it - you’d squandered that opportunity as well. I am before you right now because I want to know why. And because you have not given me a reason to trust you, I have brought this council of individuals who have somehow found themselves so intertwined with our relationship when it should have only been you and me.”

Azriel spat the bitter words before he could stop them from leaving his mouth. “If Eris is not issuing consequence, there is no need for him to be here.”

Despite his exceptional ability to bait, Eris remained silent. A show of respect to the female at the head of his table.

“I was a guest in his keep when you decided to make our separation everybody’s problem and breached the wards.”

Azriel, damn him, couldn’t stop the next hateful words either. “I hardly call emissary business the equivalent of being a guest.”

Eris forwent anger over the blatant disrespect already rolling off of Azriel’s tongue when she didn’t owe him a second of her time, he knew this force of a female by his side well enough by now - biting the inside of his lip to hold back the involuntary smirk creeping its way up to the corners of his mouth as he sensed the words before she spoke them.

“You’re right, Azriel. But I am not here on emissary business, I am here as a personal guest of Eris, who has found himself intertwined in this relationship.” She then looked to her sister “Along with Camila, as they BOTH found themselves putting in considerable time and effort helping piece back together the parts of me that I couldn’t quite place myself. Do you have further question on the members in attendance today that you’d like for me to elaborate on?”

Camila, seated to the other side of Y/N, gave her sister a reassuring squeeze of the hand under the table. Silence once again filling the room, Azriel’s shadows in conjunction with Rhys’ raging darkness rendered him barely visible.

Perhaps her words to her mate were harsh but they were far kinder than the venomous “I’m here on the business of fucking the brains out of the Autumn Court High Lord who, by the way, is just as well endowed and far more bendy than you.” that she wanted to spit back at him.

As if Eris read her thoughts, he loosened the reign on that wicked smirk he’d held back.

“Now that the matter of why we’re all here is settled,” Y/N continued, “I will hear you out, Azriel. If at any point I do not wish to continue this discussion, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?”

Her stoic mate, the revered Spymaster, simpered at the words, giving a slight nod. “Yes.” Eris thought to himself in that moment, heart filled with pride, “She would make a fine High Lady.”

“Great. We have a bargain.” Her fist clenching as the tattoo formed on the back of her neck. “Please proceed.”

Azriel stood, looking to his mate. Crestfallen he began. He held himself in submission to his mate but with enough confidence for her to see that he was sincere in whatever he was about to say.

“Y/N. I love you. I have loved you since before the bond ever snapped. You are - You’re everything. Fuck, I know that what I did was terrible but, it’s not what it seems. You were so good, too good, I didn’t deserve you. I never have. You are everything good and I do nothing but bring pain and hurt to others, and now I’ve done the same to you. Words can never express how sorry I am but… I can at least share what happened.”

He looked to her, praying she’d speak, give any encouragement. Her bright eyes only stared through him, straight into the tattered soul he’d tried so hard to conceal from her.

The table remained silent. Camila biting back a scoff and Elain fidgeting with her dress.

Realizing she wouldn’t speak until he’d told her everything he continued.

He began speaking of how insignificant he’d felt in comparison to her. How he’d buried himself in work, in training with the Valkyries, helping Elain recover. He then pleaded to her, giving recollection of how he’d stopped feeling her through the bond. Giving account for everything leading up to the night he’d slept with Elain.

He recounted how he’d just wanted to get through the night, how he’d chosen to go to dinner instead of staying in, drowning himself in alcohol in an effort to get through the night, how he’d planned to tell Elain that he could no longer spend so much time with her.

It was then that he turned a violent glare to Cassian. “Tell her. Tell her, Cassian.”

Cassian let out a sigh. “Y/N, I am so sorry for the mistake I made. Nes and I, we’d stopped into a new apothecary along the Sidra and found a unique new aphrodisiac. We’d done a parting shot with Azriel and Elain after everyone else had gone out and I -“ his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I accidentally gave the shots we’d mixed the powder into to Elain and Azriel instead of Nes and I. I had no clue until yesterday, we just assumed it was a faulty batch.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled with rage as he picked up where he’d left off. “I went to find Elain afterward, to break things off but the aphrodisiac hit so hard, so fast, and I was so terribly intoxicated. One moment I was trying to speak, the next she was kissing me.” He shook, choking on the next words. “The next morning, I knew I could either tell you, inflicting more pain upon you, or I could carry the pain myself and make sure it never happened again.”

Lucien gritted his teeth at the admission. He’d known they slept together, she’d come straight to him afterward. Choosing to make his best effort to do right by his mate, telling himself that what had happened evened out the playing field between them. Of course it hurt, and hell, he was livid. He found himself fond of the Shadowsinger’s mate, forming a comfortable acquaintanceship with her the few times they’d attended the same events with the Inner Circle. She deserved so much more than a mate that cheated on her.

But Elain was his mate, he needed to at least try with her now that she’d finally shown up. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and had spent the past six months spending what time she deigned to give him with her. He’d hoped at the very least it would keep Azriel away from Elain and with his own mate. He’d felt awful when he heard she’d left.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Azriel’s next words and the corresponding pained gasp from Elain, and the thrumming power of Feyre as she seethed from both embarrassment of the ordeal and the careless words about her sister. “Y/N, Elain means nothing to me. She was a mistake. I don’t care about her beyond the fact that she’s my High Lady’s sister, I don’t love her - I only love you. I only want you. She is nothing.”

Elain clutched her chest, eyes welling with tears as she let out a whisper that may as well have been a damning scream. “But - you’re my mate.”

Time stood still as everyone turned to her in shock. Everyone, except for Rhys whose raging power dimmed momentarily, heads turned from Elain toward him as he let out an incredulous laugh. “You idiot.” Feyre turned toward him. He’d pay for that comment later, though only mildly as she was inclined to think the same of her sister. “That aphrodisiac that you were given, it is designed to imitate the mating frenzy. He’s not your mate, you were just horny.”

Elain turned ghostly, sinking in her chair at the revelation. Y/N felt sympathy for Lucien as she noted his gritted teeth. Apparently whatever she’d told Lucien, she’d left out the important detail that she thought she had another mate.

Camila’s body shook, fighting back laughter, and failing. Her laughter filled the space. “Oh my gods!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t mean to… but this, this is too good.” Her laughter only increased. “How humiliating!”

Even Y/N bit back a smile. Camila never was good at hiding her emotions, laughing in the most unstable of circumstances. And she couldn’t stop. Finally she placed her palms on the table pushing herself up. “I’m so sorry. I’ll excuse myself.” Lucien was next to stand, Elain tightly grasping his wrist. “Lucien” she whispered.

It was Lucien’s turn to let out a small laugh. “I suddenly find that I am not at all intertwined with this mess. Enjoy your mate!” He mused, a saccharine smile forming on his face as he pulled his arm away, catching up to Camila. His footsteps and the distant sound of “My lady” as he extended an arm to her, which she gladly accepted.

Elain stood eyes darting between Azriel and the door. Taking far too long to come to the decision to chase after her actual mate. Her foot moved out, pivoting her toward the doors when Rhysand commanded, “Oh no, you will stay here and finish this discussion.” She gasped looking to Feyre who only gave a solemn nod of solidarity with her mate.

Elain fell back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at Azriel.

As the room once again settled, aside from the roaring heartbeats at the table, Y/N spoke impassively, “If there’s anything else you wish to say, now would be the time, Azriel.”

He stared wide eyed, clearly still blown away by the bullshit with Elain.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I know that what I did was wrong. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never would have slept with her had it not been for the aphrodisiac. I never meant to hurt you. I have so much darkness within me to reckon with, so much that I’m terrified to bring up, so much I never wanted you to see. I need you to understand that. You were never the problem. It was me. It was always me. I can tell you how sorry I am, I can tell you how much I love you, but it won’t matter unless I can show you. Please give me that opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Y/N sat still. Processing all of the details Azriel had given her. She felt his desperation barreling through the bond. Her hands again began shaking under the table without her sister there to steady them. Discreetly, Eris reached his hand to Y/N, the quivering receding at his warm touch.

Azriel’s shadows rose to whisper in his ear, his eyes instantly honing in on where their hands were joined, as if he could see right through the table.

And Y/N didn’t know if it was by a stroke of luck or the absolute lack of it but at that moment, the doors flung open and Nesta. Fucking. Archeron. stormed in.

“You.” She pointed to Azriel. One word. One action. So much damnation behind it.

Rhys’ darkness flared in the presence of his wild card sister-in-law. Cassian merely raised an eyebrow, the slightest upward curve tilting his lips as he took in his mate who could command a room full of power.

She looked over both High Lord’s at the table with an unimpressed sneer before turning that deadly, piercing gaze toward Azriel.

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise at the Valkyrie striding toward him. “What. The. Fuck. Is. This?”

His brows knit and she opened her fist, grasping a chain with two of her fingers to display a dangling necklace.

Azriel’s face paled.

“You know, the strangest thing happened this afternoon. I was talking to my friend, Gwyn. We got to talking about flowers and Elain’s garden. Gwyn began speaking of how she loves roses, clutching at a lovely little pendant around her neck.”

“And I thought to myself, something about this necklace seems so familiar.”

“And then I recalled a solstice not too long ago where my sister came crying to me over a male who had given her a lovely necklace of the same description. How they’d pined for each other, never going further than a brush of the hands. Until the night they almost kissed, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air between them, then pulling back from her and stating ‘this is a mistake’ and leaving.

At the point Rhysand turned to his brother. “You’re fucking joking, Azriel.”

Y/N looked to them beginning to anticipate where this was going.

“When asked who gifted it to her, she stated that Clotho told her it was left for her from an anonymous admirer. So, I went to my friend Clotho, who keeps to her word very well. She’d sworn to the source she wouldn’t tell. But you know, the House of Wind is a sentient entity. Persistently tugging me toward Rhys’ belongings that remain scattered around the house.”

Nesta turned her glare from Azriel to Rhysand. “So, Rhysand, something tells me you know about this.”

Rhys lowered his head with shame hesitating as he searched for the right words.

“Y/N…. I’m so sorry. A couple of years ago, on Solstice, I caught Azriel placing a necklace on Elain.” He looked to Elain and then back at Azriel again. “I monitored the situation, hoping I was wrong, but as their lips were moments away from touching, I used my daemati abilities and summoned Azriel to my study. I truly thought whatever happened was over between them as the tension between the two seemingly faded in my presence. Until yesterday, when we found out about he and Elain sleeping together.”

Cassian glared to his brother with rage, “You gave a necklace meant for Elain to Gwyn?”

“She wasn’t supposed to know.”

Before he could dig the hole further, Elain whispered, those doe eyes peering at Azriel through her lashes, “So, you didn’t really think it was a mistake?”

Feyre broke her silence letting out an audible groan of exasperation. And Azriel broke his own silence,

“It WAS a mistake, Elain. All of it. Rhys tried to stop it. I should have listened. You were a mistake.”

Elain gasped, tears lining her eyes. And if looks could have killed, the glare Nesta gave Azriel would have ended him on the spot. But it was Elain who made the mistake of reading her sister’s rage toward Azriel as sympathy toward herself, leaning into her sister, turning her head into her side to catch her dramatized tears.

“No, Elain. I am so disappointed in you. You were completely wrecked when Graysen left you and you were only engaged. Imagine the pain Y/N felt losing her MATE.”

Eris who had been taking in the cluster fuck surrounding them mused, looking toward the door Lucien had earlier exited, “Oh, I don’t think she’ll have to imagine much.” Earning a laugh disguised as a cough from Cassian, another sigh from Feyre, and a scowl from Nesta as she chose to ignore the barb - looking again to Azriel, “You have a lot of amends to make.”

She looked to Elain, “You do too.”

With that she grabbed Elain by the arm and drug her out of the room. With a wave over her arm and a shout of, “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been through, Y/N!”

Y/N took a breath as the room regained its composure, the tension again thickening. “Is there anything else, or are you done making excuses, Azriel?”

“They’re not excuses. Y/N. I love you. I was wrong. It’s always been you.”

“I’m tired.” She spoke softly. And it was the truth.

“I spent so much time waiting for you. Praying that one day it would all become ‘right’ again. I dreamed that you’d come walking through the door, and remind me what it was like to feel your love. My Azriel, my mate, all I wanted was you.

But, this, Azriel. You are not the male I fell in love with. And I think… I think the most heartbreaking part of that is that what I loved most was those dark depths of your soul that you tried so hard to hide. You were never a monster, you were always worth loving. You wouldn’t have broken me. Shutting me out is what broke me. And I told you that, so many times, in so many ways. But you never listened.

And the reason you couldn’t feel me through the bond? The further you pulled away, the more I closed it off from my end. I hoped that it would give you time to work through whatever it was you were facing and refused to share despite my pleas. Until I eventually grew so numb that I just shut it down completely. A courtesy you never once extended to me during my time away. Do you know how hard it was to recover after I left? I felt your guilt and rage barreling through me at all hours.

And you fucking Elain? Nobody but you and Elain are responsible for your actions. Cassian is not your excuse. You chose to go that night, you chose to drink all evening, you chose to wait until that night to tell her you wouldn’t be spending time with her like you had been. You had the entire week away and chose to wait until the last minute.

The affair started long before then. I think we can agree that despite your cold treatment of her before me today, that you two were engaged in an emotional affair long before you ever went to bed with her.”

She reached into her pocket pulling out a piece of parchment.

“And then, you attempted to court Gwyn in my absence - which, fair, because I’m the one who left. She really is a lovely female. Although, I hear it didn’t quite work in your favor.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide in panic. “The necklace didn’t-“

She laughed. “I’ll save you time and effort of your excuses, Azriel. Gwyn may not have known the necklace was from you but she did extend the courtesy of writing to me and I was rather surprised by the details of the demise of our relationship that didn’t quite line up - specifically the cheating aspect.”

She placed her hands on the table, looking her mate directly in the eyes. “I made my decision long before your attempt to break into this Keep, before the truths were unveiled today. I appreciate everyone for coming but I have heard enough. I ask that you leave now, Azriel.”

Tears filled his eyes. “Wait! Please, Y/N.” His brothers began to pull him away but Azriel fell to his knees.

“Please, baby.” He begged. “Just come home.”

She stared at the pleading male before her. A pang of sympathy for her broken mate ran through her. She wasn’t cruel and sympathy was not a weakness. This was her choice to make and nobody would blame her if she went back to her mate.

“Come home, please.”

Holding her head high, she stepped around her chair.

Eris sat expressionless, carefully avoiding any inclination of the devastation he’d feel if she chose to leave. He would support her either way.

Azriel remained focused on her every movement, his erratic breathing the only sound cutting through the tension of the room.

She took a step, and one more, before halting. Gently taking the hand of the red-headed male beside her whose eyes lined with silver as he looked up to her.

“I am home.”

EPILOGUE

The time he showed up:

Lucien suffered when his bond with Elain was severed. She did not agree to breaking the bond which left slim to no opportunity to move forward with the breaking of it. After months of intense research, Helion was able to find a tricky workaround that did not require both parties to be present. It was incredibly painful due to the negative effects being concentrated to one individual instead of split between two but fortunately not lethal.

Eris never pushed me to sever my bond with Azriel but as time went on it felt important to put that part of my life behind me. I’d extended the courtesy of writing to Azriel regarding my intention to sever it, informing him that I would be going through with the incantation that Helion had conjured. He did not reply but I knew he received the letter based on the muted feelings of grief that seeped through crevices of the walls I had placed against his end of the bond for several days afterward.

Eris traveled to the Day Court with me, having decided nobody could aid in my recovery better than he. To my shock, upon arriving, Azriel was there. Demurely, he stated that it was only right for him to share the weight of this burden. I was inclined to agree but only thanked him for showing up. He bristled at the sight of Eris but the males said nothing to eachother and we went our separate ways until Helion was ready for us. With Azriel’s presence and the pain being shared, the physical recovery on both of our ends was expedited and manageable for both of us.

We were both held in separate suites to recover until Helion gave the all-clear to leave. When the pain became less debilitating, I decided to take a stroll through an exterior walkway, soaking in the sun while Eris bathed. Apparently Azriel had the same idea as I turned a corner to find him sunning his wings, head hung low.

Right as I made to pivot, his head whipped in my direction, eyes locking with mine. Even without the bond I could easily read the pain in his eyes, the grief that surrounded him. His shadows fought to come to me but he kept a tight reign on them. His breathing was rapid, his eyes fighting to turn away but his gaze lingered.

He opened his mouth to speak, a weak sound escaping his lips before he clamped his mouth shut, jaw tensing.

I kept my gaze soft, maintaining eye contact for another moment but he didn’t try to speak again. With that, I walked away and we did not encounter eachother again during the stay.

It was later I realized that he likely wanted to say something, anything, but there was nothing left to speak between us.

The sister-in-law:

After recovering fully from the severance of his bond, Lucien cryptically invited Eris and I to a lakeside home in the Day Court.

“Dress for merriment.” His only details.

Upon arriving, we found a couple of beloved faces from my life, along with Feyre, Helion, The former lady of Autumn (now the lady of Day), Jurian, Vassa, and even Tamlin at the home. We were all escorted to the grounds where an absolutely beaming Lucien stood at an altar beside the most radiant female I’d ever seen.

That was the day my sister became also my sister-in-law. It’s a very strange thing to say aloud but makes sense if you think about it.

The first heir:

Eris cried the day our son was born. Not from the relief of having an heir, not from any upset due to the child being male, certainly not from any disappointment of being a father.

The birth was as smooth as one can be, he held my hand throughout, praising me, and whispering words of love. He didn’t even mind the curses I threw his way as I pushed. He only let go of my hand once the babe was carefully handed to me by the midwife, allowing me those first precious moments to cradle our little flame to my chest and relish in the life our love had created.

Eris cried when that tiny babe was finally passed into his arms and the little red-haired beauty grasped his finger. That touch immediately tethering a connection straight from the child in his arms delicate soul to Eris’ heart, the heart that once beat beneath layers of armor now laid bare before his son.

Never would this child know pain at his fathers hand. Never would he limit the love he could show for fear of being seen as weak. And never, ever would he question his fathers love for him.

The coronation

Azriel

Sitting here lonely at a table for two, watching lovers being lovers

Azriel sat shrouded in shadow in a quiet corner of the decorated throne room. Happy chatter rang throughout the room as attendees anxiously awaited the crowning of the High Lady of the Autumn Court.

Feyre and Rhys; Cassian and Nesta; Helion and the former Lady of Autumn; Emerie and Mor; Tamlin and his new wife, Briar; Lucien and Camila; and even Gwyn and Tarquin sat cozied up in pairs throughout the crowded throne room. Nyx had seated himself next to his best friend Alex, Camila and Lucien’s son.

From what Azriel had heard Lucien treated Alex as his own from the moment he met him, adopting the boy immediately after he and Camila married. He seemed to be a fine young man and a positive influence on Nyx, who kept Rhys and Feyre on their toes these days. Perhaps karmic justice for the hell Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian put Rhys’ mother through in their youth.

Three little girls ran through the room, two with vibrant red-hair, tan skin and freckled golden cheeks; one with dark hair, fair skin, and her mothers eyes; their giggling rang out above the chatter filling the room as an older child, a boy of eleven years old - Azriel still remembered the day the announcement arrived to the Night Court of the birth of the first Autumn Court heir - walked in a straight backed, lordly posturing behind them, a crease forming between his brows as he focused intently on his little sisters.

The boys long strides kept up with his little sisters as he reminded them to mind their paces. Lost in their merriment, the girls ignored his warnings until the boy finally let out an exasperated sigh. Stopping for a moment with his arms crossed, he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, murmuring gods knows what frustrated curses. Knowing his mother, it was not the typical frustrated language of a child.

Azriel gave a small, sad smile at the memories elicited.

When the boy looked up, the girls had disappeared from his sight. He grew frantic for a moment until his Uncle Lucien walked up to him, pointing to his wife and the three girls pressing kisses and talking animatedly to her round, very pregnant belly. The boy gave his uncle a smile, shoulders sagging in relief. Lucien bowed down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The boy took his hand and walked back toward Camila and the sisters.

Azriel placed a hand to his chest at the wave of grief that rang through him. The mating bond may have been severed but he never could get over the love that he squandered. The family that could have been his.

“You don’t have to be here, brother.” Rhysand’s voice invaded his mind.

Azriel swallowed, willing his thoughts to a tone of neutrality. “She’s the High Lady of the Autumn Court, we’re immortal, we will have to be comfortable in spaces together. It comes with the territory.”

I miss you. Without you I just don’t fit in.

He didn’t have to say what his brother already knew. That yes, he was broken when she left. Broken further when she confirmed he was no longer her home. He’d hated himself for what he’d done, for what he put her through. For a long time, he’d been a shell of the shell of himself that he’d already become. Eventually, he’d taken to seeing one of the counselors in the House of Wind’s library. He was too far gone at that point to consider such an option but Rhys had coordinated with the priestesses and mandated it. Either he got help or lost his position in the Night Court.

Even after the countless hours of counseling sessions he’d attended over the years, that “savior complex” of his remained. Seeing Y/N thriving with someone else was fucking hard but not as hard as living in a world where he never looked upon her face again. As she assumed the title of High Lady, a target would lay on her back, just as one was on any other High Lord or High Lady’s back. He’d never forgive himself if his stubborn pride kept him from attending any court events she attended and something happened to his own High Lord or Lady… or if something happened to her.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find another you.

So here he was, alone at a table, in a now quiet throne room, watching the love of his life step out onto the dais in all of her resplendent glory, kneeling down before the male she loved. Eris’ eyes lined with silver as her own lifted to meet his gaze, her chin held high as she awaited his next move. Carefully, he lifted the emerald and ruby crested crown, with one large diamond centered between two golden leaves, off of the plush pillow it sat upon. Eris’ previous words rang true through Azriel’s head “Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.” The people of this court were truly fortunate to be under the rule of such a resilient and kind ruler. The shining diamond of Autumn. She would love them deeply and do right by them in a way so few leaders were capable of.

Azriel couldn’t contain the pride that welled up in his chest, tears threatening to spill over his thick lashes as the crown was placed upon her head. And yet it was Eris who looked at her like she was the very air that he breathed, as if nothing existed in that moment but the female at his fingertips, like the only reason he himself was brought into existence was to find and cherish her for eternity. And despite his disdain for Eris Vanserra, Azriel finally understood that this was where she belonged.

Everybody’s got somebody but me.

————————————-

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series! I loved writing it and I hope you are pleased with the ending. Some may ask, “What about Elain?” and to that I say, “What about her?” I find great satisfaction in the fact that she didn’t get either male, was embarrassed in front of the IC, and became so irrelevant that she was barely mentioned in the epilogue (aside from Lucien breaking the bond). Clearly, she’s still bitter considering she refused to sever the bond with him but he still found a way out (albeit painfully) and got his dream girl! Stay mad, Elain.

ACOTAR Tag List:

@lilah-asteria

Eris Tag List:

@angiedsv

Rainy Season Tag List:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern @existingthroughwords @mybestfriendmademe @strangersunghoon

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

Text

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Starfall means dress shopping, and dress shopping means spending time with Nesta and Elain... the celebration is its own set of challenges that you struggle with.

Warnings: Body shaming, toxic family, slight disordered eating, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: ~9.2k

Author's Note: it's heeeere I didn't get quite as far into the story as I wanted, but this was a good cut off point too. I really hope you guys like this one! I don't think I made it quite angsty enough, but there's still some. Plus a lil fluff to start. Enjoy! p.s. let me know who you think Y/N will end up with! Or anything else you have to say 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your dreams were soft and fuzzy, filled with hazy scenes of you laying in bed and cuddling with your sisters, just like you had every night so long ago.

Waking felt similar, your body cocooned by soft blankets and warm arms, your own wrapped around someone's torso. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

Mor's face was laying on the pillow in front of you, still relaxed with sleep. She looked even prettier like this, without stress and her busy schedule hanging over her.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her, taking care to not wake her. She deserved the extra sleep, with how much time she was going to be spending in the Hewn City through the end of the year.

You rolled onto your back, Mor's arms tightening around you as you did. It felt nice, being held again. In the past two years, you had forgotten how lovely it was to wake up feeling safe, snuggled up with your sisters.

The sound of Mor's soft, even breaths nearly lulled you asleep, before your eyes flew open.

Shoot! You had forgotten Nuala and Cerridwen's Solstice presents...

Mor's arms were gently pried from your body, which was harder to do than you had anticipated, but you managed without waking her.

You pulled on a dressing gown and quietly grabbed the two bags containing their presents. Your bedroom door snicked shut behind you, and you padded down the hallway, down the stairs, and to their bedroom. One knock had the door swinging open, this time greeted by Cerridwen.

"Y/N? Did you need something?" The wraith asked, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the presents in your hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do that, Y/N," she said, letting you into their room.

"But I wanted to, both of you have been so wonderful to me. And I already got them for you, so you have to open them," you insisted, placing each bag in their new owner's hands.

Nuala shook her head but opened her present anyways, a wide smile overtaking her face. "This is wonderful Y/N! Oh and you even got me metal threads, how did you know?!" The wraith embraced you tightly in her arms.

"And you remembered me complaining about my needles, oh mother, Y/N, you are the most thoughtful person!" Cerrdiwen exclaimed, stealing you from her sister's arms. "You will be the first person I make something for," she said after she loosened her hold on you.

"You don't need to do that..."

Cerridwen looked at you sharply. "Yes I do, and I will. Would you prefer a hat or scarf first? Oh, I'll just make you both," she finished, not giving you time to answer.

"Thank you in advance, I suppose," you said, blush dusting your cheeks. "I'm glad both of you liked your gifts."

"Of course we do! You pay so much attention to what you buy for people, it's so sweet," Nuala said kindly.

A heavier blush rose to your cheeks at their sweet words. "I just like to make people happy. Speaking of which, I should get back to Mor-"

"Back to me? But I'm right here!" Mor said brightly from behind you, causing you to jump in shock. "Sorry, Y/N, did I scare you?" Mor's arms wrapped around you from behind. "You left me, so I came down to find you. Want to do breakfast before everyone returns?"

You nodded in agreement, but turned your eyes to the twins. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," Nuala said, and Cerridwen nodded her head before replying the same.

"Girls' breakfast! Let's go!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you out of the twins' room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The twins trailed behind at a less excited pace, and met the two of you in the kitchen as Mor was pulling food out of the cold box. Bacon, sausages, eggs, broccoli, and cheese were taken out, and the four of you began making breakfast- most likely too much food for the four of you, but Mor insisted that once Cassian had returned he would eat any food that was left over.

You provided the tea, rushing upstairs to pick out an orange and ginger tea.

Breakfast with the three of them was lovely, only kind words and soft smiles being exchanged between you. It was much more peaceful than most of the meals you had taken at the dining table, and for that you were grateful.

Your sisters, their mates, and Azriel returned while the four of you were still gathered round the table, talking over the last of the second pot of tea you'd made.

"Good morning, ladies," Rhys said as he slipped into one of the chairs, pulling a glowing Feyre into his lap a moment later. "Did you have a good breakfast?"

You nodded in response, but it was Mor who spoke. "Yes, in a team effort we made far too much food. What about you lot?"

"It was good, but there wasn't enough," Cassian complained as he sat down, plucking a piece of bacon off of a plate. You smiled at his antics, you'd always found it funny how the male never seemed to be truly full.

"There's never enough for you, Cass," Nesta said as she took the seat next to him- directly across from you- and glared hard enough at you that the small smile on your face fell off in an instant.

"That's true, even though he devoured all of the sweets you gave him, Y/N, he was asking for more the moment they were gone," Lucien laughed as he did the same as Rhys, pulling Elain into his lap in the chair next to yours.

Fear clutched at your heart, though you knew it shouldn't. But the thought of Cassian enjoying the sweets you had made so much that he asked for more... You were scared of how Nesta might retaliate this time.

You tried to keep your breathing even as the conversation passed from one ear to the other, no words registering as they spoke.

"Y/N?" Feyre's soft voice broke through, pulling you out of your worried heart and back into the moment. "You're still up to go dress shopping with us tomorrow, right?"

Your eyes flicked up to her, then to her mate behind her who had a stern look on his face. You forced your eyes back to her slightly worried ones, focusing on the gentle blue that you'd known your whole life. "Uhm... Yes, I am," you managed to respond once you had played the question over in your head.

"Good! We were all thinking that noon would be a fine time to leave, that way the three of us can sleep in a bit after the revel tonight. Does that sound good to you?"

You could feel Nesta's burning gaze and Elain's judgemental eyes on you, stoking the fire of your fear.

"That sounds fine to me, Feyre," you replied, fingers working nervously over the painted irises on your teacup, focusing on the tiny ridges that the paint had created, your gaze now trained on them.

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

"Perfect! Now that that's settled, I think we should all get to perfecting the revel for tonight," Feyre said, causing movement from all around the table.

Except you.

You sat, staring at your teacup until everyone was gone, disappeared off to their rooms or offices, or wherever they needed to be.

That left you to clear the plates, quickly washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the rack. Your teapot was dried by hand, and filled with tea leaves and hot water once more. Thankfully you were able to retreat to your room without question, letting you escape back into your fantasy world you had created in your mind. Away from Nesta and Elain's combined ire, combined disdain for your very existence.

The lovely jasmine tea Azriel had gifted you helped you forget where you were, nearly convincing yourself you were back in the human lands, sipping tea in the living room with your father as you watched snow fall and bury that tiny little shack, falling asleep to the thought of it in your arm chair.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The next morning, you forced yourself from the arm chair, stretching out your neck as you did.

Somehow, it was less comfortable than sleeping in the bathtub.

Your soreness abated as you slid into steaming water, bubbling with rose scented soap- something that you were absolutely delighted by, loving that no matter what, your body was completely covered by bubbles. You hardly caught sight of your skin at all, though you knew with the day's plans, you would be forced to confront how your body had changed.

You could feel it, every now and then. The way your bones protruded just a bit more than they had a month ago. How your joints got sore from sitting or laying faster than before. How pale you had become compared to this time last year, when you had a slight glow to your skin.

This year, you were pasty. As though you had been locked away from the sun the entire time.

A sigh left your lips as you finished your skincare, the one act of kindness to yourself that you always made time for.

Your body didn't matter. It's not as though you would find someone in Prythian. After all, fae and humans shouldn't mix...

Feyre had said something similar to you, so long ago about your past crush on Cassian.

Thankfully in that time, only one person had caught your eye... And you were certain that Irina would never stoop so low as to date you of all people.

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

No, you were here to be alone. Mor and Feyre had begun trying to engage with you, for that you were grateful. They were keeping you from losing all hope once more, and it was all you could do to keep that flame alive.

Especially knowing that your own issues with your body would be added to by whatever Nesta and Elain deigned to say to you. Feyre may have told them to behave, but that wouldn't stop them from throwing barbs at you, thinly veiled by concern or 'opinion.'

Your cycle had finished the night before, leaving you tired but free of its scent, which you were overly thankful for. Mor's present was very nice, but you did not want to try the underwear out while dress shopping with your sisters.

You forced yourself to get dressed and headed out of your room, noting the time on the clock in the hallway. Half past eleven.

That should be enough time for a pot of tea, maybe taken in the kitchen? Or should you retreat to your room...?

You turned around and headed back to your room for a packet of tea leaves, this one a plain green tea. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs, ears listening for any sign of life.

Perhaps they were all asleep still, exhausted from the revel the night before.

The kitchen was empty when you entered it, and you quickly set to making your tea. A few minutes later you were sat at the island in the kitchen, a cushioned stool beneath you. The tea was lovely and calming, it's clean, slightly sea scented aroma perfect for clearing your head.

That was until Nesta and Elain sauntered in, already talking about what dress styles and colors they were hoping to find today. Their conversation didn't stop once as they walked straight past you and into the living room, the only evidence of them noticing you was the feeling of their eyes on your back.

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

Feyre walked in a minute later, rushing over to you once she saw you seated at the island. "How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. How are you, Fey? How's the baby?"

"Oh I'm just fine, baby was being a little fussy earlier but they're all settled now. Are you ready to leave?"

You finished the rest of your tea in a few quick gulps, enjoying the feeling of warmth it brought, and stood from your stool. "I just need to wash this, and then I'm ready," you said, already making your way to the kitchen sink. That was done in a flash, and soon Feyre was ushering the three of you out the door, Nesta and Elain immediately locking arms and taking the lead. You and Feyre trailed after them, your own arms locked together after Feyre forced her elbow around yours, smiling at you when you looked at her.

All too soon, you arrived at the dress store in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, greeted by the owner, Tarin.

"Ah, the High Lady and her sisters! This is a lucky day for me, that's for sure," Tarin exclaimed as she approached Feyre, clasping their hands together. "What can I help the four of you with?"

"We're looking for dresses for Starfall, I know we're cutting it a bit close-"

"Oh, nonsense! For the High Lady, even the day of Starfall is not too close. Please, look around and pick out what interests you, we can have them altered if need be," Tarin said, waving her arms at the racks upon racks of dresses filling the shop. "I can also have them made up in different colors, and with any variations of fabrics you may like. Any way I can please you, my dears, and I am happy to do it."

Nesta and Elain set into the sea of fabric together, keeping close to each other as they picked through the racks. You stayed near Feyre, feeling wildly out of your depth.

Shopping for Solstice was one thing, it was shopping for those you cared for. But this...

This was shopping for yourself, and you struggled more with that. Buying the hairpin that you currently had twisted in your hair was a rare action, and one of the first non-practical purchase you had made for yourself since coming to Velaris.

"How about this one?" Feyre asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as she waved a dark purple dress in front of you, it's long sleeves waving as she did so.

"It's pretty," you said absentmindedly, staring at the way the fabric shimmered in the light.

"Do you want to try it on?"

Your eyes snapped up to Feyre's. "Me?"

Feyre laughed softly. "Yes, you. The cut is similar to dresses you've worn before, and you like purple, right?"

You looked back down at the dress, taking in the modest bodice and neckline, and the long length of the dress. "I like the design, but I think I'd prefer a lighter color, Fey," you said politely, but grabbed the dress anyway. "I'll try it on, though."

"That sounds fine, we could always get it made in a lilac color if you'd like," Feyre suggested, her hands already moving over more dresses. "You can go put that at the dressing rooms, then come back and look for more, okay?"

You nodded and did as she suggested, returning to her side and half-heartedly looking over the dresses hung in front of you.

Many of them were far too revealing for your comfort, with low necklines and slits up the thigh. You did find a few you thought Feyre may like, gowns that reminded you of the shimmering night sky, and showed them to her when you happened across them.

"Oh, I love this one," Feyre gushed when she saw one you had handed her, this one a dark blue silk with a smattering of silver stars embroidered across the chest and stomach, with a sweetheart neckline. The length of the dress would like reach her mid thigh, and hang just slightly on the tiny bump that was forming on Feyre's stomach. "What do you think?" She asked, holding the dress up to her body. "High Lady of Night enough?"

Even held against her body, the dress looked perfect for her. "Definitely. You should try it on, Fey," you suggested.

"Hmm... I think I will, Y/N. Are you ready to try yours on? I think we've both got a decent number," Feyre said, slowly walking with you to the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were located.

"I am, I think," you replied, though you were unsure of being anywhere within a ten foot radius of Nesta. Especially if she couldn't find a dress she liked...

Thankfully at the moment, Nesta and Elain were both in their own dressing rooms, trying on whichever ones they had picked out.

You and Feyre entered your own curtained room, the dresses that you had picked out hung on the hooks inside.

A quiet sigh, and you set to undressing yourself. There was no mirror in here, likely to force people out to get recommendations from their friends. The purple dress that Feyre had found was the first you tried on, the soft fabric flowing down your body like water.

It clung too much.

That was your first impression of the dress, even with the modest neckline and hem length. The soft fabric seemed to be molded to your body, and even a cursory feel of your hands over your hips had you wishing you had rejected Feyre's offer to go shopping. You did not want to hear what Nesta would say about the slight show of your bones in the dress.

"Y/N, are you almost done? We're waiting for you," Feyre said softly from the other side of the curtain, and you forced yourself out of the dressing room. "Oh, you look lovely! I think the color looks nice on you," Feyre said kindly, even as her eyes lingered over the sharp edges of your shoulders, the noticeable bump of your hip bones.

"Do you eat?" Nesta asked sharply from across the room, her nose wrinkled as she took you in. "You look like you're still living in poverty, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks at her words. They were true, though. "I eat. I've just been..." you paused, trying to find a word that wouldn't irritate your sister. "Stressed."

Nesta scoffed, but shut her mouth at a stern look from Feyre.

"The color is nice, Y/N," Elain said weakly. You forced a smile in her direction.

"Thank you, Elain. Your dress is lovely, green is a wonderful color on you," you said, taking in the flowing layers of fabric that made up the skirt of the dress, all in varying shades of dark green.

"Thank you," Elain replied, but moved her gaze to Nesta. "Nes, your dress is gorgeous. I think you should stick with that one, no need to look for others. You look perfect," Elain said excitedly, so different from her reaction to you.

You tried not to let it sting, turning instead to Feyre. She was clad in a floor length dress in black, tiny diamonds sewn on in patterns that you thought were constellations. There was a slit up to her mid thigh on both sides, allowing her to move freely. "This one is beautiful Fey, you look stunning!"

"You think? I still want to try on that last one you picked out, but I really like this one," Feyre said. "Oh, and I may have put an extra dress in your dressing room, please just try it on, I think you'll really like it. It's the pink one on the left hand side. Just, try it," Feyre begged you softly before returning to her dressing room, Nesta and Elain already back in their own.

Your mouth set into a line, you entered the curtained room again. As she said, there was a glittering pink gown hung on the left hand side when you walked in. Your mouth fell into a frown at the neckline.

Entirely too scandalous for you.

But still, you forced yourself to shed the purple dress and shimmy into the pink one as Feyre had asked. The long, flowing sleeves were off the shoulder, connected to the bodice by a small amount of fabric. The neckline of the dress was far lower than you were normally comfortable with, showing more cleavage than you ever had. The dress was loose fitting past your chest, the flowing skirts moving beautifully as you examined them. The pale rose pink of the fabric was one of your favorites, and didn't wash out your complexion. A difficult task, with how pale you are at the moment.

You walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror, assessing the dress. Your shoulders were far too bony, but even so... You felt beautiful in the dress, like a princess. The skirts reached your feet, billowing out around you. The neckline was lower than you wanted... But it looked lovely, and really, wearing one low-necked dress in your lifetime would be fine. A turn in the mirror showed you your prominent scapulae, half hidden by the fabric of the dress. That could be fixed by styling your hair in large ringlets, enough to cover most of your back. But the gown... The gown was lovely.

"Oh, I knew you would look perfect in that one!" Feyre cheered when she exited her dressing room in the dress you had picked for her. "You look amazing! Please tell me this is the one you want?" Feyre asked, standing by you as both of you stared in the mirror.

"You don't think it's too...?" You gestured to the neckline. "Revealing?"

Feyre shook her head. "No, mother no. I've worn much worse, you have nothing to worry about. It's just a little bit different than usual, is all. And it's perfect on you."

You tried to believe Feyre, and you did like the dress...

But then Nesta walked out. Her eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled as she gave you a once over, obviously displeased with how you looked.

She was so good at that. Tearing you apart with just one look.

"Your shoulders stick out," Nesta remarked as she took her place in front of the mirror, looking herself over. Her dress was made of shiny silver fabric, a corset in the same fabric serving as the bodice with thick straps wrapping over the tops of her shoulders.

You ignored her comment as best you could. "You look amazing in that dress, Nesta. The corset fits you perfectly."

A cold look over her shoulders, followed by a clipped, "Thank you."

Elain came out of her dressing room last, this time clad in a cream colored dress, looking every bit like the bride she was always destined to be.

"Oh, Elain! You look wonderful!" You said brightly as you took a step toward her, stopping when her gaze hit you- cold as ice. "This one looks very nice on you, but the last one looked amazing too," you said, more nervous now.

"Thanks," she answered coolly, setting her eyes on Feyre. "Feyre, that dress is stunning on you, and very fitting for Starfall."

You nodded in agreement, the dress was perfect for her. And just like you thought, it just barely highlighted the tiny baby bump Feyre had. The sight of it made you smile.

You were overjoyed that your sister had found a loving partner in Rhys, and was looking forward to motherhood.

"Thank you, 'Lain, I really like that it shows my bump just a bit, I think Rhys and I are ready to let our court know that we're expecting at Starfall," Feyre said excitedly, a hand stroking her belly.

"That's amazing, Feyre," Nesta said softly, sounding the kindest she had since they had been taken by Hybern.

"You'll be the talk of Starfall," Elain said, holding Feyre's hands in her own. "I'm so excited for you and Rhys!"

"I don't want to make the biggest deal out of it, after all, it's still early, but... Rhys is so excited about finally being a father, I had to talk him down from telling the Hewn City residents about it last night," Feyre sighed. "I am glad that I'm going to have all of my sisters with me, supporting me along the way, though. Thank you all for coming shopping today," Feyre said tearily.

"Of course, Feyre," you said, taking her in your arms. "We're always going to be by your side."

Elain's arms followed next, barely touching you but clutching Feyre close. "Yeah, Fey, we'll always be with you. Right, Nes?"

"Of course. I will always be here for you, Feyre," Nesta said, and reluctantly wrapped her arms around Feyre and Elain, one hand just barely touching you.

When you all pulled away, Feyre was crying softly, tears streaming down her face. You grabbed tissues from a nearby table, dabbing away the tracks of starlight on her face. "It's okay, Feyre. We're all here."

"I-I know," Feyre sniffled. "I just... I love you all so much. I can't imagine life without any of you." She let you wipe her eyes, dabbing away the last of her tears after she collected herself. "Now, let's try on the rest of the dresses, we shouldn't waste too much of Miss Tarin's time."

The four of you continued to try on dresses, with much of the same behavior. You attempted to compliment your sisters, only to be met with cold responses. If they did talk to you, it was to point out how the dress didn't suit you.

You still chose the pink dress that Feyre had chosen for you, Feyre choosing the blue one that you had picked for her. Nesta picked the silver gown. Elain had taken the longest to decide, eventually choosing the green dress she had tried on first.

Feyre had argued over the payment with Tarin, demanding that she pay full price for the rushed orders, eventually winning the argument. Nesta and Elain had left by that point, taking off to some vague location that contained books.

That left you and Feyre, walking slowly across the bridge that would lead you to the Rainbow. She wanted to look at paints, and maybe get something special for the canvases that you had gotten her.

And that's how you found yourself entering Irina's shop once more, your heartbeat kicking up when you realized it. Feyre led you to the wall of paint, her fingers hovering over the tubes as she searched for the colors she wanted.

Soft footsteps approached from the back of the shop, and you were met with Irina, her face just as beautiful as you remembered, her smile just as warm.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, Feyre and Y/N, it's lovely to see both of you," Irina's smooth voice said. "You came in just in time, I was about to close up early."

"Lucky us!" Feyre said, eyes still glued to the paint tubes. "Any special occasion?" She asked Irina teasingly as she pulled a few out of the selection.

"Oh, hush you," Irina scolded, swatting Feyre gently on the arm. "You know that I have a date with Rivin tonight."

Oh.

Your heart sank.

"Well, I wanted to make sure the plans were still on! You know I was rooting for the two of you to get together," Feyre said. You grabbed the paint tubes she had picked up from her, pushing her slender hand away when she attempted to take them back. Your fingers rolled over the cap, giving you a sensation to focus on besides your crushed... crush. "The way the two of you danced around each other since I first met you was adorable- I'm so glad you're going out now!"

"Well, I'll only be able to go out with her if you choose what you want soon, or she'll think I stood her up!" Irina laughed, her skin shifting colors under the light.

"Oh, fine, fine," Feyre said, pulling out three more tubes of paint, all shimmering metallic shades. You followed her as she followed Irina to the back counter, placing the tubes on it. Soon enough, the paints were rung up and bagged, and clutched tightly in your arms. "Thank you, Irina. I hope your date goes well."

"Oh, I do as well!" Irina said as she walked the two of you out of the store, locking the door behind her. "I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day as well."

"You as well, Irina," you said quietly, nodding your head to her before she turned to leave. She flashed you a dazzling smile, her eyes a bright pink today.

So pretty.

"I'll see the two of you around!" She yelled, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

You and Feyre began the walk home, arms linked together one more, your other balancing the bag of paint.

"How do you know Irina?" Feyre asked once you were crossing the Sidra, taking careful penguin steps so neither of you would fall on the slippery bricks.

Color rushed to your cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold. "Oh, I went into her shop to get one of your birthday presents. The canvases and all," you explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense. She's nice, and she has a great selection!" Feyre said excitedly as the two of you passed through the door of the River House. "I cannot wait to start the first three panels! I'm not quite through my third month yet, but I know some of what I want to do for it."

"I'm glad you like it Fey! I can't wait to see what you make for each one." You kicked off your boots after unlacing them, and let Feyre pull your jacket off your arms, you doing the same for her after. "I think I'm going to head up to my room," you said quietly after you hung up your coats and put your boots on the rack.

"Oh, alright. I... I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable while shopping," Feyre said. You knew what she meant: with Nesta and Elain.

"I was... fine," you lied half-heartedly.

Feyre stared at you, and you would have thought she was reading your mind, but you didn't feel anything similar. "If you say so. You know you can talk to me, right?" You nodded. "Okay... Well, I'll let you get to your room. Did you want me to start water for tea? I was going to make a cup for myself anyway," Feyre offered, a soft smile on her face.

You nodded again. "That would be nice, thank you, Fey."

Feyre's smile broadened. "I'll see you in the kitchen, sissy."

You went to your room to grab another packet of tea from the sampler Azriel had gotten you- so far, you were a fan of every blend he had chosen. You were hoping today's choice of a rose petal tea would be just as lovely.

The trip back to the kitchen was quick, with no sign of your other two sisters. Good. You weren't in the mood to see their sneering faces again so soon.

Tea was made quickly, thanks to Feyre boiling water for you. You gave her a hug before returning upstairs, tray balanced in your arms.

Just before you opened your door, the door to Rhys's study swung open, Azriel emerging from it.

Oh!

He came down the hallway, and once he was near the stairs you finally got your brain to move past your anxiety of starting a conversation.

"Hi, Azriel, would you uhm... Would you wait here for just a moment?" You asked. "I have that Solstice present I got for you."

"Alright," Azriel replied quietly, moving closer to your doorway. You went inside quickly, fishing the already wrapped box out from under your bed, and a moment later you were back in front of him, offering the gift to him.

"Open it," you said, pushing the box into his hands.

Soon enough, the dagger was in his hands, his fingers running over the inlaid crescent moon made of sapphires, then over the blade itself. "This is wonderful, Y/N, thank you," Azriel said, sincerity in his tone. "I happen to have gotten a gift for you as well." A moment later, shadows materialized, depositing a festive, glittery evergreen tree colored bag in his hand.

"Oh, Azriel, you didn't have to-"

"Open it," Azriel said simply, transferring the handles over to your hand in a quick movement.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, but opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful, hooded cloak that would reach at least your mid back, made of a soft, white yarn. Beneath it was a matching scarf, little tassels on the ends, and a pair of mittens. They even had a small button on the top, allowing for the and of the mitten to be lifted and become a sleeveless glove if needed.

"Its made of rabbit fur," Azriel said quietly as you ran your fingers over the fabric. You looked up at with him with wide eyes. "Oh- they just brush or shave the rabbits, don't worry, no fluffy creatures were killed in the making of your gift," Azriel reassured you.

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. Good. It's a beautiful present, Azriel, thank you. Could I- could I give you a hug?" You asked nervously, regretting the question the moment you asked it. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"That would be fine." You blinked up at him. That would be- You allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, noticing how stiff he was for the first few seconds before relaxing, his own arms coming up around you.

He smelled nice. Like cedar wood and... And night? Whatever it was, it was nice. Calming.

You both retracted your arms at the same time, pulling apart. A soft smile at him and one last thank you, and then you were in your room once more.

You were happy that he liked your present, but the slight wash of warmth it had given you was quickly chased away by the rest of your day.

Nesta and Elain... You were sure that they would never look at you like a sister again.

And Irina... It was such a silly crush that you had, based almost entirely on how pretty she was. You had been taken with her instantly, yes, breath catching in your throat. But that... That meant nothing.

Especially with you still being... Human. Frail. Less than a century from dying.

No fae, no matter how they looked, would ever take you as their wife, that you were sure of. You only had a couple of decades left of looking youthful, and perhaps only a few more past that before illness would inevitably take you.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat at your desk, a cup of tea poured out in the next moment.

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next week and a half passed dreadfully slowly, spent mostly in the solitude of your room.

Feyre came by when she could make time, the two of you sharing a pot of tea and the occasional snacks that she would bring.

Mor was stuck in the Hewn City, all the way until the morning of Starfall, when she would have a slight reprieve. She had already promised to come and spend the morning with you to get ready and catch up.

But until then, or until Feyre could make time... You stuck to your room.

Apparently your giving a joint present to Nesta and Cassian, and Elain and Lucien cause some extra anger in the two of them towards you. Nesta's glare had seemed extra fiery, and Elain had appeared perched on Lucien's lap more often than not when you did happen to wander into the living room.

You tried not to let it get to you, you did... But between the extra tension at home and the sadness in your heart from your silly little crush... It was weighing you down.

The days ticked past, counting down to an event that you weren't particularly excited for...

The morning of Starfall arrived, bringing with it the bright ball of energy that was Mor.

"Y/N!" Mor shouted, startling you awake. "Wake up! Wake up wake up! I'm here, I'm here. Please. Wake up. I've missed you!"

"Oh my gods, Mor, I'm awake," you groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes. "Do you know a gentle way to wake people up?" You asked as you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Mm, not really. But, my way is super effective," Mor said cheekily, grinning when you stood up in the tub to glare at her with no fire in your eyes. "Come over here, sweets," she demanded, patting the bed next to her. You went over to her, collapsing onto the bed next to her, and swatted at her with a pillow in revenge for her waking you so abruptly. "So, how have the past two weeks been for you?"

"Oh... You know... Boring..." You said quietly. "How's it been for you? Is everyone behaving?"

Mor narrowed her eyes at you for a brief moment, before accepting your change of subject. "Oh, most everyone has been fine... I've been trying very hard to change the city's voting system plus helping plan their Starfall event, so my hands have been full every waking moment. And Keir has been an absolute pain..." Mor sighed. "He doesn't like that he's losing most of his control by the city moving to a full population vote rather than just the nobles, but it's going to happen whether he likes it or not. But for me, that just means him being more of an ass."

"I'm sorry Mor. I wish that someone else was able to help you..."

"Feyre offered, but, well, with her being pregnant that's not the best idea. And I'm sure Amren would enjoy going solely to terrify the citizens, but that's not exactly... What we're aiming for. And I can do it, and I will, I just wish my stupid father wasn't a factor." Mor sighed dramatically and flopped back on your bed, arms flung out to the sides.

One smacked into your thigh and you laughed, pushing it off of you and back over to Mor's side. "I know something that will cheer you up," you offered.

"Oh?" Mor asked, peeking over at you. "And what would that be?"

"Doing our skincare!" You answered brightly, using the same tactic that she always did with you.

"Oh, I should have guessed!" Mor giggled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweets. Let's get to it!"

"Wait- let me take a quick bath first, and then I'll be all ready for it."

Mor nodded. "That sounds fine, I'll go make some tea and grab some breakfast for us."

The morning moved quickly from there- too quickly, in your opinion, your alone time with Mor slipping away so fast. After you had bathed, the two of you did your skincare, doing an extra mask and moisturizer to give yourselves an extra glow.

Into the second pot of tea Mor started doing your makeup once she had seen your dress. She spent nearly an hour on you alone, taking her time to perfect your eyeshadow and lipstick, getting just the right about of blush coloring your cheeks. You felt beautiful, seeing yourself like that in the mirror.

Mor's own makeup didn't take near as long, but she was even more beautiful than usual, with the extra time she had put in.

The two of you spent a bit more time together before she had to leave and return to the Hewn City for a bit longer, to make sure their celebration started smoothly.

"I'll see you at the House of Wind later, yes?" Mor asked before she left your room, a stern eye on you.

You sighed. "Yes, Mor, I will see you at the House of Wind. I won't skip out on the celebration, I promise."

Mor nodded in approval. "Good. I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

She breezed out of your room, leaving you alone once again.

You sighed, and sat down on your bed. Then collapsed back onto it.

Just a few more hours, and your anxious anticipation could subside.

Starfall would be fine this year. You will stay away from Nesta, Elain, and their mates, and instead stick around Feyre, Mor, and possibly Azriel, if he didn't seem too annoyed by your presence.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Four hours later, you were dressed and ready to leave for the House of Wind. Your hair was half pinned up by the hairpin you had bought yourself, half left down in loose curls that conveniently covered most of the bones in your back.

There was little you could do to cover your shoulders, what with the style of the dress, but you felt pretty nonetheless. The gown had been taken in slightly, just enough to fit more snugly and leave you feeling more comfortable with such an exposed neckline, more secure. And the way the skirts flowed around your feet made you feel more graceful than you were.

Overall, you felt decent about yourself tonight. Your hair had cooperated, not making you late for the start of the event by taking too long to style. And the makeup that Mor had done was perfect, just enough to enhance your natural features.

You had even opted for heels tonight, little sparkly silver boots that Feyre had gotten for you, in case you wanted something more than flats to wear.

When you finally left your room, you made your way downstairs where Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel were waiting in the entryway, seemingly for you.

"Oh, Y/N, you look beautiful!" Feyre exclaimed when she caught sight of you, rushing over to pull you into her arms. "I just love this dress on you!"

"Yes, both of you look lovely, but Feyre...?" Rhys started.

"Oh, shoot! We need to get going, Y/N, but Azriel will take you up to the House when you're ready!" Feyre said brightly, leaving the house a moment later and letting her mate take her in his arms, shooting of into the sky together.

Your heart dropped. Flying? You had only flown a few times, usually to get to the House of Wind as you would be tonight. It still terrified you as badly as it did on the first time, leaving you shaking every time.

"Are you ready to leave?" Azriel asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You nodded, and followed him outside, even as you felt like your heart was in your throat at the prospect of flying.

He gently pulled you into his arms, one hooked beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, ready to hold on for dear life.

Not that you didn't trust Azriel to keep you alive, just... You weren't made for flying, you don't think.

The push off from the ground had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut tight. You could feel your heart racing, trying to leave your chest as you were overtaken by fear.

"You look beautiful tonight," Azriel said, his deep voice in your ear causing your eyes to snap open.

"You don't have to lie..."

Azriel let out a soft breath. "I'm not lying, you look beautiful tonight. Pink is your color, I believe," He said, his voice right in your ear again. Color rushed to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled- small, but there.

A moment later, he had landed solidly on the ground, carefully placing you on your feet.

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

Soon after distancing yourself from him, Rhys rushed over to pull him away for some reason or another. Which left you standing alone in the House of Wind, for the first time since Bounty Day.

Anxiety grew in your gut again, making you feel queasy.

Especially when you saw the feast, laid out over that same massive dining table.

You turned away from the banquet, navigating instead to Feyre's side. Already she was surrounded by a few citizens, but you were able to make your way in for a hug from your sister. Soon though, far more crowded in, and following the arrival of Rhys you broke away from your sister, no longer feeling welcome next to them.

You wandered off, searching for Mor in the ever growing sea of people, with no luck yet.

Azriel, the other person you knew that could be safe to talk to, was occupied talking to a very pretty redhead, and also next to Nesta and Cassian.

Definitely a no.

After a while, you filled a small plate with food, picking at the smoked meats, cheeses, and some pieces of fruit until you couldn't stand it anymore, taking the plate back into the kitchens.

Back here, it was quieter. A few stragglers were wandering in and out between the balconies nearby, but you paid them no mind as you got a glass of cool water from the sink.

You let yourself take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, to bring yourself out of your anxiety. It helped, but not much.

It was enough to allow you to wander back out into the party, passing more than enough males who eyed you up and down, leaving you nervous. You were almost tempted to grab a glass of wine, but you knew all that was provided was faerie wine, something that you never wanted to try after hearing some of Feyre's tales involving it.

You knew this dress was a mistake. A beautiful one, yes, but it left you feel exposed unlike every before.

Every few minutes, you circled back to where Feyre was, seeing if there was an opportunity for you to ask her to take you back to the River House, or have someone take you back. But every time you passed, there was somehow more people crowded around Feyre and her mate.

Mor was nowhere to be seen two hours into the party, leaving you adrift in the sea of fae that had overtaken the House of Wind. You were overwhelmed and feeling so alone, the noise of the party drowning out any coherent thoughts you could have.

Just make it to the Starfall, and you can go.

That's what you told yourself for an hour as you continued your slow circles of the main rooms, attempting to find Mor or see if Feyre was available. No luck for you, though.

Cheers erupted as the first streaks of glowing green overtook the sky, giving you your cue to leave.

You didn't care that it was cold and snowy out, you just needed away from the noise, the lights, the everything that always surrounded you.

The stairs were hell in your heeled boots, but you dealt with them, forcing yourself to go one step at a time. By some miracle, you didn't fall, merely ending the massive flight of stairs by sitting down at the bottom to catch your breath.

Tears had begun falling down your cheeks at some point, driven by the cold and how lonely you feel, how forgotten you felt yet again.

You finally pushed yourself off of the cold stone, the bottom of your dress now wet with snow.

The forest would give you the peace you wanted, though you wouldn't venture near as far as you had last time. No, tonight you just wanted a bit of peace, a bit of time with only natural light shining upon you, even if it was enhanced by the cosmic phenomenon going on above you.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the forest in your sights. A sigh of relief left you as you saw the trees, so reminiscent of the ones you had grown up near.

And then you crashed into a wall.

"What the-?" You rubbed at your nose, attempting to soothe the pain of crashing into- whatever you had crashed into. You held your hands out, shocked to find that they rested perfectly on an invisible force in front of you. Nothing that you tried let your hands pass that point, and a kick at the area led to the same results- a foot that you knew would hurt badly in the morning.

You couldn't believe it.

They had locked. You. In. They had taken any amount of freedom you could have, no matter how fleeting it would inevitably be.

Ice cold rage and swells of disappointment left you a sobbing mess as you stumbled away from the wall of your cage, following the Sidra with no true destination in mind.

You would not be going back to that house. You couldn't. Not when- when... Not when Feyre had okayed you being locked inside of the city like nothing more than a pet, like you weren't a person with feelings and needs and desires.

You were sick of being alone, sick of feeling alone even in a sea of people. You had no one who was just yours. And that would never change in Velaris, would never change unless you were around humans once more.

"Y/N!" A warm voice said, drawing your eyes from the snow covered ground to the person it came from. "How did the recipe I gave you turn out? Good?" Sevenda asked, her smile turning to a frown when she saw your tear covered, blotchy face. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Another sob left your lips, despite your attempts to quiet it. "I- I- No," you managed to get out.

"Oh, come in here for a minute, Y/N, you're freezing!" Sevenda said, pulling you into the back of her restaurant. She pushed a cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly accepted, your fingers warming instantly from the mug. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

You shook your head, but sighed and answered anyways. "I just... I don't belong in that house, I don't belong in Velaris... I can't... I can't keep pretending like I do, acting like I'm happy to be there... I need..." You sighed again. "I need out of there." And then an idea struck you. "I- I know this would be a lot to ask, and that you likely don't need help from a human but... Do you happen to need help here? I could do anything you need, I just..." You trailed off.

"You need out?" Sevenda asked, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Well, I did lose one of my prep cooks to the Continent recently, he went to study new styles of cooking. If you are serious about this, I will have you show up at nine tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?"

You nodded your head vigorously. "I would be so grateful, Sevenda, truly, thank you so much." You let the older fae pull you into her arms, the gentle hug enough to stop your tears for the moment.

"Are you going to be alright, dear?" She asked once she pulled away, looking you in the eyes. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice at the moment. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of tea to go, and you should go straight home, hmm?"

You let her do just that, accepting the hot jasmine tea in a lidded cup that she made you promise to bring back in the morning. After saying goodbye, you set off in the opposite direction of the River House.

No matter how cold you were, you didn't feel like going back there yet.

Some time later, you found yourself on a cliffside, overlooking the bay of Velaris. Your tea was long gone by now, any warmth it had given you gone with it.

The rocks down below looked so inviting, as though they would welcome you in an instant. You let out a long, heavy breaths, tears beginning to flow again.

You wish you had the strength to jump.

Instead, you sat on the edge of the cliff, booted feet dangling over the side. The snow underneath you was frigid, leaving you colder than before. But still, you sat and watched the waves, and listened to the crash on the rocks below.

"Y/N?" A deep voice asked from behind you, but you paid it no mind. Maybe they would leave you alone. "Y/N?" The voice asked again. After another length of silence from you, the person took another approach, and sat next to you instead, their own long legs dangling over the edge. A warmth behind you, and less wind hitting you after the male readjusted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You still didn't answer.

Instead, you were surprised by gentle hands winding a scarf around your neck in two loops, then a cloak being fastened over your head and buttoned in the front, and finally a pair of mittens slid over your hand.

Azriel didn't make you talk, didn't make you do anything. He simply let you take the time you needed to recover, to stop your tears.

A while later, the waves started to lull you to sleep, your head tilting to the side until Azriel pulled it to his arm, letting you rest against him. Your eyes fluttered shut, your cheek soaking in the warmth of him, even through the hood of your cloak.

It was only when you nearly pitched forward off the cliff that Azriel insisted on taking you back to the River House, or at least to a café where you could warm up.

"I suppose..." your voice cracked. "That going back to the River House would be... fine... for now," you whispered, glad that he didn't force you to speak any more. A moment later and you were pulled through shadows, similarly to how Nuala and Cerridwen travelled but... different in a way. Almost warmer, you would say.

The two of you appeared in front of your bedroom door, the warm air shocking your skin and making you feel clammy.

"I'll have my shadows bring you a pot of tea, feel free to take a bath or change so you can warm up, Y/N. I hope you have a better night that it has been so far," Azriel said quietly before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Azriel," you croaked just before he turned to go down the stairs. He gave you a small smile and nodded before continuing on his way.

You entered your bedroom, tears falling almost instantly once you were alone again. You forced yourself to strip, hanging up the pink gown to dry and setting your sparkly boots near the door. The bath felt soothing, at least, warming you to the core by the time you got out.

And there, awaiting you on your desk, was a fresh pot of the lavender and chamomile tea that you preferred for sleep.

A few extra tears fell at that small act of kindness, and you helped yourself to a still steaming cup of it, settling into the armchair that you had perpetually pulled near your window, a throw blanket across your body.

Sleep claimed you before you had even finished your second cup of tea.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

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