#elain is getting trained by a woman | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

utterlyotterlyx · 4 months ago

Text

Eden

Azriel x F!Reader

Summary - You had heard the rumours of the illustrious Shadowsinger, and you knew better than to get involved with him despite his eyes finding you. Though, everything changes after one fateful night, and you find yourself unwilling to be another one of his conquests.

Warnings - angst, swearing, mentions of blood, fluff, fuck boy to angel Az, jealousy, some sadness, suggestive tones

Based on this ask

Word Count - 11.5k (oops)

"You know that sleeping around isn't going to make your mate miraculously appear, right?" Cassian pretty much shouted across the table to Azriel, wincing and the loud thumping of the music and squealing laughter drifting through the dancefloor of Rita's.

Shrugging, Azriel continued to sip on his potent drink, so potent that it took the edge off of his misery for a few hours to allow him to enjoy being buried inside another female before he went home to only be surrounded by every single member of his family acting sickly in love.

At first Azriel only did it to forget about Elain and Lucien, at how she chose the fox over him, but then it spiralled into something more. It had become to poisonous and filled him with so much venom that he despised being around his family at all. He had moved himself out of the House of Wind to a small but cosy apartment on the outskirts of the city, mainly so that no one truly knew how many women he was bedding each week, but so that he could also escape the turmoil of mating bonds and happiness.

"I don't have a mate," Azriel admitted, truly believing that the Mother had chosen to restrict him of that single purity he had always yearned for.

His eyes scoured the crowd, trying to find a female he hadn't taken to bed yet, not wanting to fuck the same woman twice and lead her to believe that he wanted anything more from her than what he did.

"Don't say that," Cassian scolded lightly, frowning at his brother and worrying about the dimness laced in his eyes as they lazily dragged across the crowds. "She's out there, Az. You just have to be patient."

Cassian's words gave Azriel no hope. The Shadowsinger knew that Nesta disapproved of Cassian joining him in the evenings, and he knew that Rhys and Feyre were worried about his wellbeing, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

To care was to open himself up to more pain, and he couldn't do it again.

"No, I don't," Azriel downed the rest of his drink and rose from his place in the booth, rolling his shoulders and feeling his shadows peak up from behind his wings, just as solemn as their master. "You should get back to Nesta. I'll see you for training tomorrow," he mumbled, fixating his gaze on the woman he knew for certain he'd be taking to bed that night to forget how lonely he truly was, stalking toward her and leaving Cassian more worried than he ever had been.

There was something about clubs and alcohol that you despised. Maybe it was the way males kept on knocking into you without apology, or how they would lean in and shout down your ear in an attempt to get you to dance with them.

No. It was definitely the heat that you hated the most. How the sweaty bodies would writhe and pulse to the beat of the music with little care of the world raging on beyond the doors. A world you had ventured across to set up a practice in the Night Court, believing that it was where fate needed you to be.

"Loosen up, y/n," your slightly inebriated friend, Alana, childishly begged as she grabbed your hands and swung them in time to the melody. "This is your first night out since you got here. Have some fun."

Part of you wanted to listen to her, to truly give in and push yourself outside of the bubble of comfort your solitude had gifted you. It wasn't that you hadn't tried to, it was just that you enjoyed your quiet nights in curled up with a good book, and your days of healing and walking about the city. It was routine, and you were happy living within it.

Allowing Alana to twirl you around in the tight black cut-out dress she had forced you to adorn for the evening, you couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the most beautiful male you had ever seen as the world span. Stopping in your tracks, you watched his grin widen as a stunning blonde female wearing little to no clothing swayed against the front of his body, grinding her hips and ass onto him whilst his fingers tightened around her waist.

"Who is that?" Alana came to your side sporting a knowing smirk, biting her lip softly as she too watched the male move in rhythm with the woman in front of him.

Just as his lips floated downward, whispering and nipping at the shell of her ear, did Alana admit, "That's Azriel. He's part of the Inner Circle," her eyes moved to you, dragging from your feet up to your face, "And he'd ruin you, sweetheart."

"I'm not interested," you lied.

Alana saw straight through it, "Liar," she nudged, "There isn't a single unmated female in this city that doesn't wish that he wouldn't beckon them to his bed, and he's had many of them."

There was no way that you could compare to the woman in front of him, she had golden blonde hair and rouge painted lips, and she had a wildness to her that you'd never be able to own. And, like he knew that fact, his eyes moved upward to yours and you felt like he was searching the depths of your soul. The stare was so intense that you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and had no choice but to break the contact, and you felt his smirk rake over your body as you turned away.

For the rest of the evening, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop yourself from finding Azriel from wherever he was in the room. Women flocked around him, but it was clear that he had made his choice, and you had to watch as the woman sauntered from the bar, dragging him behind her for an night of ruin.

And all you could do was wonder what exactly that would be like.

Nursing a hangover and little to no sleep thanks to the blonde feline Azriel had taken to bed that morning, the last thing he wanted to do was train with Cassian, but he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he bailed.

So there he was, clad in his leathers beneath the scorching sun, regretting all of his life choices.

At least he found something new out, something that his shadows didn't deem necessary to tell him. There was a new female in the city, one who reeked of Dawn, who was as beautiful as a setting sun in the depths of summer. Azriel couldn't help but picture her face whilst he fucked that woman, imagining her lips breathless and perfectly rounded, imagining the smoothness of her skin under his touch, and the subtle waves of her hair spiralling down her back.

It seemed that his wish to know more of her was answered the moment Feyre and Rhys stepped onto the training grounds atop the House of Wind, muttering about a new healer that Nyx had become obsessed with.

"Nyx just adores her," Feyre spoke with wonder, clad in her custom made training leathers that Rhys had made for her. "He let her give him his injections, he won't let Madja close enough to even try."

Rhys hummed in response, smiling at the memory and clearly pleased by the being he had welcomed into the city, "Well, Thesan did say that she is the best he's seen in a long time. I'm glad that she's here. It means that Madja can retire now if she wants to."

A new healer? From the Dawn Court?

No wonder she was so beautiful. She had been born in the most serene court of Prythian, she had probably grown up with the Peregryns, and had been trained by Thesan himself.

Turning his attention back to Cassian, Azriel couldn't help but let his mind wander to the healer he had seen the night before. It was strange how he found her eyes, pools of innocent bliss gazing at him from across the room that he couldn't help but be infatuated with. He still felt the pang of disappointment in his soul when she had looked away.

Training ensued without any issues, and by the end of the session Azriel was sure that he was going to throw up whilst Cassian seemed as chipper as ever. Nesta must have been nice to him when he returned home last night.

Just as Azriel went to flex his wings and return to his apartment as far away from the House of Wind, and thus Elain and Lucien, as possible, the clearing of a throat caused his feet to stick to the ground. "Az, a word?"

Rhys stood a mere few feet behind Azriel and watched as his tensed wings folded between his shoulders before he slowly turned to face him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Rhys narrowed his eyes, still anxious about approaching Azriel considering the last time he had expressed his worry it had caused Azriel to move across the city. "I have a mission that I need you to go on. It's urgent. There's been increasing reports from the mountain camps that wing clipping has made a return. I need you to verify it."

It was one of the few things that truly got under Azriel's skin, the removal of wings from Illyrian females, usually little girls. Wordlessly, Azriel nodded, turning his back to Rhys and stepping toward the ledge that would plunge him downward, "I'll leave this afternoon."

And with that, Azriel extended his wings and propelled himself upward, ebbing and flowing over the scape of the city and trying to pinpoint where exactly the new healers practice was located. He had even sent his shadows out to continue the search when he had returned home, needing nothing more than the wash away the sweat and stench of alcohol alongside the lingering teeth marks peppered along his collarbone.

It made him feel disgusting. Azriel awoke each morning with a different female coiled around her torso feeling less like a man and more like a personal whore to the women of Velaris. It was tiring, but it was the only way he could tear his mind away from the pits of his immortal loneliness.

During his preparations, his shadows returned singing their findings.

The Sidra.

Beautiful.

Angel.

Sad.

Azriel wondered what in the world could cause something so incredible to be sad. And he vowed to delve deeper into the female upon his return, to find out what was the cause of her sadness and rid her of it.

If he couldn’t fix his own life then perhaps he could fix it for someone else. Someone who deserved it.

The sun had began to wane by the time Azriel was ready to leave for the mountain camps, he was dressed in his usual leathers with siphons glowering under the descending light. He didn’t bother looking back at the mess that was his apartment, he was used to looking back and saying goodbye to Cassian, and ruffling Nyx’s black mass of hair whilst promising the child that he wouldn’t be long.

But he was alone now, he had nothing to look back to.

It didn’t take The Shadowsinger long to reach the mountain camps. He landed far enough away to not be detected and approached the camps on foot, taking the time to try and evaluate when his life had become so unsatisfying and lifeless.

Looking into the eyes of that woman across the room at Rita’s was the first time he had felt alive, truly alive, in what felt like eons. And he was sure that he’d be chasing that feeling for the rest of his miserable days on the earth.

His wings were drooped at the tips, almost dragging along the floor, and his shadows continued on their melancholy journey slithering over his spine and shoulders before shivering and returning to where they had come from, searching for a speckle of warmth.

It was only when he heard the cries echoing from the centre of the camp did he truly focus on why he was there. The cries were whimpering, pleading, begging whoever it was to stop, and the voice was so gentle, so childlike and innocent that Azriel was beginning to lose the taut grip he usually had over his self-control.

Truthteller sang at his side, thirsty for a taste of blood, eager to take another life especially if it meant ridding the continent of another monster. Azriel was happy to indulge it.

Without wasting a moment, and without thinking, he entered the clearing in the centre of the camp and moved as fast as a phantom wind in cutting down the Illyrian males that deemed the barbarity acceptable, starting with the poor excuse of one that was towering over the cowering girl who had blood leaking from her ears and nose.

It was a bloodbath, and Azriel couldn’t bring himself to stop, not even when the arrows embedded themselves into his thigh and torso and caused his vision to blur. He could make out the pools of blood, and he could feel his shadows tightening around his limbs in attempt to get him to stop, and only when his breath became latched within his throat did he realise that there was no one left for him to maim, no one that would dare to face him anyway.

He hissed at the spreading pain being carried through his body, grabbing one of the three arrows and pulling it from his skin, smelling the arrowhead and cursing at the faint scent of nightshade laced to it.

Azriel knew that he didn’t have long, a few hours at most to make it home and get to Madja before the poison claimed him. Part of him wondered if there was any point, if living was something he truly wanted to do, but then he remembered her and the look in those beautiful eyes that had him craving life and adventure.

He decided to try. For her.

The last thing you were expecting that night was to be awoken in the early hours of the morning, when the moon was still alight in the star glittered sky, by a shouting High Lord and one of your assistants.

Your day had swam by like they all did, you healed, prescribed tonics, created balms and ointments from scratch, and visited the orphanage in the centre of the city, carrying out health checks so that everyone could rest assured that all of those beautiful children were healthy even if they weren't exactly happy.

Every patient that stopped by during the afternoon had much to tell you. After seeing you at Rita's the night before, they felt more comfortable in gossiping to you, realising that you were committing to their culture and activities. So you weren't exactly surprised when your fifth patient had something to say about Azriel.

You doubted that he even saw you through his drunken, lust-filled haze, but you saw him; you saw his hazel eyes lazily hooded and warm when they found you, you saw his lips tilt upward into a smile, and you saw the clear pain that lingered beneath the surface. Alana had told you, sternly, to not think of him, that he would be the ruin of you, but you couldn't help but think about him.

Now that you had the image of him, it was impossible to remove it from your mind.

Your mother would have scolded you for it if she were alive, she would have said that you had worked too hard and spent too long training to heal those who needed a kind touch to throw it away for some pretty male that hadn't even uttered a single word to you. She was right. As always.

Which made the entire situation a lot more strange, so strange that you had genuinely believed that you were dreaming when your assistant entered your bedroom above the practice and shook you awake.

"Y/N?" Priscilla asked, sheepishly shaking you before fumbling with her fingers at her front. "I'm sorry to wake you, but it's an emergency?"

Light spilled in from the slightly ajar door, and you could hear Rhys talking frantically from the floor below, his voice drifting up the stairs and into your ears.

It wasn't a dream at all.

You sat up quickly, causing all the blood to rush to your head, and you didn't bother to put any shoes on as you slid a plush cream cotton cardigan over your arms and barrelled down the stairs.

A gasp escaped your lips.

There lay Azriel on your examination table, blood smeared over his leathers and siphons, his skin pale and sickly, and his shadows limp in a circle above his head.

"Y/N." Rhys spoke, voice tense and wobbling, and your eyes snapped to him. He was also coated in blood, Azriel's blood, and the High Lord looked between you and his brother desperately. "Please."

Running your fingers through your unbound hair, your quickly threw it up into a loose set bun at the back of your head and quickly disinfected your hands before you moved to the Shadowsinger, to the same male who couldn't look more different than he had in Rita's.

"What happened to him?" Azriel groaned at the sound of your voice, not fully coherent but it was like he knew that it was you tending to him, and his shadow perked up for but a moment before slumping back onto the table.

Rhys was beside himself, raking his fingers through his hair and down the sides of his face. "I sent him to the mountain camps to verify a rumour," he told you, not wanting to give too much away, "He was shot with arrows, I think they were poisoned. He came back to us like this, barely breathing and mumbling some nonsense about wanting to look back."

"Did you bring the arrows?"

Within seconds, Rhys produced two of the arrows, and you noted that Azriel must have taken the third one out himself at left it in the mountains. You run your fingers along the wood, bringing the oaken arrows to your nose and scenting the oozing liquid coating the head.

"Nightshade," your voice faltered. It wasn't often that you saw anyone with nightshade poisoning, they usually didn't last so long, and the fact that Azriel had was a miracle.

You flew around the room, gathering various ointments, balms, and rags, ordering Priscilla to fetch a bucket of tepid water to keep his fever down.

"Azriel?" you called to him softly, and his head moved in the direction of his voice, "I'm y/n. I'm going to help you, alright? You just need to stay with me for a little while longer. Can you do that?"

A low whine passed through his lips, tugging at the strings of your heart, and you took that as his voice of agreement. Ordering Rhys to stand back and for Priscilla to press the dampened rag to his forehead, you began to work.

Slowly, you cut through his leathers to expose his chest to the Velarian air, noting every ripple and tense of his muscles and they writhed from the effects of the poison in his system. Without thinking, you rested your glowing palms against his abdomen, calling on every morsel of your power to dive into his veins and extract every drop of poison that lived within him.

Rhys and Priscilla watched in awe as the poison began to vacate his body through the entry wounds left by the arrows, they watched that black putrid filth run down the sides of his body and drip onto the stone floor. But you didn't stop, you wouldn't let a single tear of that poison live inside of him, and once the last drop had left him, Azriel opened his eyes and gasped.

The relief he was feeling must have been profound. His eyes trailed along your face, much enjoying this version of you than the one he saw at Rita's, noting the long lashes of your closed eyes as your power surged through him to ensure that his blood was clean. You didn't even realise that your eyes were closed until his clammy, trembling fingers curled around your wrist.

His eyes were weak and drowsy, he was rightfully exhausted, and you pulled your hands away slowly, the glow in your palms weakening more by the second. Then you moved your eyes to his face, his sickly pallid face and equally pale lips that were parted in shock.

And then you felt it, that golden thread withering in solitude connecting with its other half, entwining and thrumming in clear skies, burning gold in the pits of darkness.

"Mate." Azriel rasped, eyes wide and fingers fumbling to keep a hold on you, his thankful shadows trailing up your arms to steal the warmth locked beneath your skin.

You could feel Rhys' eyes on you, examining you, not knowing what to do or say in the moment.

"Right. Yes." Azriel's wounds were still open and angry, and that is why you couldn't fully adapt to what had just happened between you, not when you could feel his pain laced with hope flow down the freshly unlocked bond.

The rest of your work was done in silence. You applied thick balms to his wounds to urge them to close and disinfect before bandaging his entire torso and thigh, apologising when each wince would sound from his lips. And all he did was watch your face whilst you worked, he watched the furrow of your brow and the concentration within your eyes, and he realised why his mind was focused on you since the moment he had seen you.

You were his mate.

His mate.

His.

When you had finished, you turned to Rhys who was perched upon a nearby chair, observing in perfect silence, and beckoned him to follow you onto the porch of your practice, closing the door softly behind you whilst Priscilla continued to clean the blood and dirt from his skin. "He would have died if you had come five minutes later."

Rhys took a step toward you, "Will he be alright?"

Part of you had to admire Rhys for his care, for the way he cared about every member of his found family and how he would go to the ends of the earth to ensure that they lived, but another part of you hated him for sending Azriel to the mountain camps in the first place.

"He'll be fine. I suggest letting him rest, someone will need to watch him," your voice trailed off slightly, not knowing whether to offer or not considering the revelation that he was your mate, "I'll stop in and do regular checks over the next couple of days, but for now he just needs to be somewhere comfortable."

"I'll take him to the River House," Rhys promised, knowing that was the only place where Azriel could truly rest, and the only place where you could enter without having to go through the rest of their dysfunctional family. "How are you feeling?"

A thin smile tugged at the corners of your lips, "I'm fine."

"I meant," he took another step toward you, glancing down at the blood that now stained your cardigan and skirt of your night dress, "How are you feeling about Azriel being your mate?"

Peering over your shoulder and through the window, you saw Azriel looking up at the ceiling with a gentle smile on his lips. "I know who he is, his reputation. I'm someone who has given their entire life to be amazing at what they do, which means that I'm inexperience in other aspects. I don't think I'm the kind of woman that he wants."

Shaking his head, Rhys brushed against your side, "Trust me. You are everything that he has ever wanted."

All you could do was hum in reply, and you folded your arms over your chest to protect against the chilled winds as you stepped back inside, internally grinning at Azriel's effort to sit upright the moment you were back in his presence. You stopped at his side, "I've told Rhys to take you somewhere comfortable so that you can recover, and I'll stop by over the next few days to make sure that you're healing properly and that there aren't any side effects from the poison."

Azriel furrowed his brow, "But what about us?"

"Let's just get you healed first," you told him, doing your best to stay calming, "Then we can revisit everything else."

He wanted to say more, he wanted to take your hand and bring it to his mouth, he wanted to know what your skin tasted like on his tongue. He wanted to know everything he could about you, and he was desperate for it, so desperate that no words fell from his fumbling lips as he tried to force a reply.

Azriel felt like a schoolboy approaching his crush for the first time, and you noticed that the illustrious Shadowsinger was truly lost for words.

"You can take him now, Rhys. I'll come by in the morning."

"Thank you, y/n."

Azriel watched as you bowed your head to Rhys in acknowledgment, "Of course," you told him, your eyes finding Azriel one last time before all he could hear was the patter of your feet against the wooden stairs and smell the lingering scent of fresh berries and sweetened citrus.

Waiting for the morning was driving him insane already, but he would wait for you. He would always wait for you.

The morning had come too quickly, but sleep hadn't found Azriel that night, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the stabbing pains in his chest or the excitement bubbling in his gut at the thought of seeing you again.

After being fixed up, Rhys had winnowed them both back to the River House, Rhys refusing to let Azriel be anywhere else considering you have given him strict instructions to ensure an eye was kept on him, at least until he could walk on his own two feet.

He had forgotten how peaceful the River House was in his miserable meandering through life, he had forgotten its comfort, he had forgotten what it had been like to be around family. His room had been left untouched, his bed made and books still open on the last pages he had read splayed across the desk.

By the sunlight pooling onto his bedroom floor, Azriel could tell that it was nearing midday, which meant that you were going to be arriving any moment. Any movement made him wince, but he found enough strength to be able to sit up in the bed, he knew that you'd want to check the wounds beneath his bandages and wanted to make it easier for you.

His wings were tucked neatly behind his back, and his shadows were sleeping soundly atop his shoulders. Azriel was too busy watching them to notice the opening of his door, only realising that someone else was there when their scent worked its way into his bones.

"You're sat up," your voice was light and soft as you entered, medical bag in hand and dressed in a plain but beautiful taupe gown with low looped sleeves and a corset of brown leather. "That's a good sign."

Azriel's heart stopped at the sight of you, at your hair unbound but the front pieces held back by a cream coloured fabric headband, at the dress and the glowing of your skin in the warming sunlight.

With a small smile, you perched on the edge of the bed, unclipping the clasp of your bag and retrieving some small vials and tubs, setting them down on the bedside table and turning to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Much better," was all he could manage to say, completely mesmerised by the hue of your eyes in the light and shape of your lips, "Thanks to you."

"It's no problem," you told him softly, reaching for the bandages around his torso and taking your time in unwinding them.

In a couple of days he would be as good as new thanks to his other-worldly healing beginning to kick in, and you told him as such as you reapplied the balm and placed two patches to the effected areas on his torso, carefully massaging the balm into the wounds to make sure that it did its job.

"I need to talk to you," he took your wrist in his hand before you could move your attention to the wound on his thigh, his eyes were pleading to talk about something other than his pain, you could feel it flow down the bond that you were trying to adapt to. "I need to know where your head is, with us."

"The moment you looked at me that night was the first time I felt that someone had actually seen me, even if you were drunk," you spoke with a huff of amusement, "You looked at me, and then you took a woman home who is infinitely more beautiful and wild than I am, and then I had to hear everything that everyone says of you. Forgive me if I'm feeling apprehensive and would like to just focus on making sure that you live."

Azriel understood, truly he did, but that didn't make the words sting any less. "I'd like to show you the real me, if you'll let me." His heart thundered in his chest at your silence, and the nerves settled in his gut and swarmed within his heart that was beating for you.

Unable to deny those rounded eyes brimming with hope for a brighter tomorrow, you sighed, "Fine," you told him, "Once you're back on your feet, I'll give you a chance. Now let me work."

The tone of your voice made Azriel release your wrist and settle back into the cushions of his bed, and he didn't make a single sound whilst you worked on the wound buried into his thigh, applying the same balm and wrapping it up before giving him instructions for the ointments and tonic to help the pain. "Thank you for saving my life."

Your eyes found his again and you could have melted at the pure desperation within them, "Well, I couldn't exactly let my mate die now, could I?"

"Will you be back?"

Azriel observed you as you packed up your things, disposing of the bloody rags and bandages in a wisp of smoke. "I have some errands to run but I'll stop by on my way home. Is there anything that you need?"

"Just you."

Even in his state Azriel was a shameless flirt, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the innocent smile from taking over your face, but you couldn't stop the blush from prickling at your skin, and a part of you didn't want to.

"I'll be back later. Eat something and rest, you need to build your strength back up. The tonics can help with the rest and the pain."

Azriel tilted his head in your direction whilst you gathered the last of your instruments, clasping your bag shut and rising from the bed. He knew there was a reason why he had been drawn to you, why you hadn't left his mind, and it was because you were his mate. The one fated to be his. The one thing he thought he'd never be able to have.

And gods, you were the most perfect thing he'd ever seen.

With a gentle and reassuring smile, you squeezed his forearm softly before removing yourself from the room and taking your time in making your way downstairs, dawdling in the halls to examine the artworks and ornaments lining them. Though, you weren't expecting to come face to face with Cassian the moment you moved from the last step.

He wore a shit-eating grin and stood before you with his arms crossed tightly over his chest whilst his eyes slowly drifted to the stairs and what, or rather who, lay resting on the floor above. "Always in the right place, aren't you y/n?"

Luckily for him, you had often been in the right places when he required some healing or tonics, whether it be for him or Nesta during her most recent cycle. "It's quite literally my job, Cass."

Cassian grinned and chuckled deeply, his orbs morphed into sincere and he cleared his throat, "Thank you for what you did last night. Azriel may be difficult but he's family. We'd be lost without him." He laid his large hand on your shoulder in thanks, it was light a weighted blanket, comforting in a way you'd never found in anyone else. "And," he began, sighing, "Rhys told me about the bond. How are you feeling?"

Dropping your shoulders, you shook your head slightly and looked toward the ceiling, worried that Azriel was going to hear what you had to say before finding Cassian's gaze. "I'll tell you what I told Rhys, and Azriel. I don't think I'm the kind of woman he wants. I've heard the rumours, I've seen the kind of women he takes home every night and I couldn't be more different to them. I'll give him a chance once he's better, but that's all I can do right now."

"I understand," Cassian smiled sadly, removing his hand from your shoulder and glancing down at the bag loosely held in your fingers. "Isn't today supposed to be your day off?"

Rolling your eyes, you lightly swatted his chest as you passed by, "Stop analysing my schedule, Cass. I never have days off anyway."

"How else am I meant to know when to come to see you?" Cassian called after you, unmoving from his place at the bottom of the stairs.

"You don't need an appointment to come and see me," you waved him away without turning around, pacing into the lounge and instantly feeling your confused mood lift when you saw Nyx wobblily walking about the room.

The small child, under the watchful eye of Feyre, instantly moved to you, babbling and reaching upward, and you swept him into your arms and felt your soul blossom when he rested his head on your chest. "He loves you," you craned your head to the side at the sound of Feyre's voice, a pencil was lazily held between her fingers and the sketchbook resting in her lap was kissed with the first swirls of grey, "Nyx that is, though I'm sure that Azriel does too," she spoke, setting her things down on the centre table.

"Well I only care about Nyx right now."

You were sure that Azriel could feel your joy and love for the child flowing down the bond, you seemed to be able to feel everything the other felt. His hope, pain, and blissful desires, and your exhaustion and innocent joys.

"I just want you to know that Azriel is probably the best of us," she began, rising to her feet and smoothing down the wrinkles in her skirt, she approached you, eyes flitting between you and Nyx with a serene smile, "He is patient and kind, courageous and gentle, and he has so much love to give. I think the recent period in his life was caused by the belief that he wasn't worthy of it." Feyre ran her fingers through Nyx's short onyx hair, "You deserve to see the real Az, in the way that we see him."

"Thank you, Feyre."

The High Lady hummed softly, "Always," you gently passed Nyx over to her, allowing him to grab your finger in his tiny palm in an attempt to get your arms wrapped around him again. "Are you going into the city?"

"Yes. I have some supplies and orders to pick up, and I'm going to try to enjoy the little time I get to spend by myself."

"Well, have fun. We'll be seeing you later? Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"You're not," the deep voice of Rhys reverberated from behind you, his chest brushed against your back as he passed, heading straight toward his mate and child and kissing them both lightly on the forehead before turning his attention to you fully. "You save us all on a daily basis. You're always welcome here."

"I appreciate that," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, wanting the ground to swallow you whole, "I should get going. I'll see you both later."

It didn't take you long to gather the supplies and orders that you needed for the practice, and once you had dropped them back of Priscilla, who admitted that the day had gone slowly, you decided to take a walk around the city. You browsed the endless bookshops and headed to the markets to see what garments they were selling, settling on a flowing ivory skirt and shimmering pale blue dress.

The sun was setting by the time you were done, bags in hands full of new treats for yourself as well as a new toy for Nyx that you had seen and couldn't not buy.

Scents of honey cured meats and roasted vegetables drifted down the stone path that led to the River House, and you could faintly make out the silhouettes of Rhys and Cassian through the window. And, like she knew that you were stood there watching, Feyre opened the front door and smiled at you, beckoning you closer.

Feyre took all the bags from your hands bar one, the one that you needed to take to Nyx who was already on his feet and swaying over to you the moment you stepped through the door. You knelt on the ground to greet him, the paper bag settled on the floor beside you, "I got you something today," you teased, diving your hand into the bag and retrieving the small stuff bat you had spied at one of the many market stalls that afternoon.

Nyx beamed, taking it from you and babbling his thanks as he moved into your arms, looking up at you expectantly to pick him up, and you did so without question.

"You spoil him too much," Rhys moved to sit beside you on the couch, watching Nyx with a faint smile as he played with his new toy. "Azriel is walking around. Seems that whatever you did is working."

"I would say that it's because of his own determination but we both know that was all me," Rhys laughed at your words, especially at how you had modified your tone to be Nyx-friendly.

"That it was," a sultry voice drifted through the air, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. You glanced over you shoulder, spying Azriel in the doorway with his hands buried into his pockets, looking as perfect as he had that night at Rita's.

His hair was messy, like he had raked his fingers through it with frustration, his skin was golden, and it looked like he had gotten some kind of rest given the disappearing bags that lingered beneath his eyes. The shirt he wore was unbuttoned toward the top, allowing you to see his still intact bandages and the tattoos that swirled the area. His wings were poised and neatly tucked at his shoulders, like he wanted to appear as unthreatening as possible to you.

Azriel appeared shy and sheepish, eyes floating through the room, finding Cassian and Rhys before landing on you and Nyx. So that was what the joy down the bond was, it was Nyx, it was a child that made you feel so light and happy.

Recognising the tension between you both, Cassian took the opportunity to plop himself down on a nearby armchair, setting his feet upon the table where Feyre's art supplies still lay, and spoke, "So, you two are mates?"

Closing his eyes, Azriel wanted nothing more than to punch his brother through the ground and into the realms of hell. Instead, he inhaled deeply, "Yes, Cassian," he gritted through his tensed teeth, noticing that you had chosen to take your awkwardness and pour your attention into Nyx.

"Well? What are you going to do about it?"

Slowly realising what Cassian was doing by the cock of his brow and slight smirk, Azriel decided to play along, "I'd like to take y/n out. I'd like to get to know her and see if she would like to accept the bond."

Cassian turned to you, innocent mischief laced in his orbs, "Y/N. Would you like to go out with Azriel, get to know him and figure out if you'd like to accept the bond?"

Rolling your eyes at his antics and slicing a glare to Rhys who had slightly sunk into the cushions of the seat, you replied, "Yes. I would."

"Great," Cassian shot to his feet with a clap of his hands which made you jump slightly, "Tomorrow. Az will pick you up from the practice."

"Fantastic."

"Amazing."

You and Azriel both spoke in unison whilst Rhys' foot tapped against the floor, raking his fingers across your mind and slipping into your lowered walls. I'm sorry about him. He's always been a meddler unfortunately.

You don't say.

The first date was going well up until it wasn't.

Azriel had arrived at the practice at sundown, flowers in hand, looking more incredible than you could have ever thought he could. It was clear that had spent the entire evening planning your first night alone together, he had taken you to the restaurant along the Sidra and had spent most of the time asking you questions about your work, appearing genuinely interested in the journey you had taken to get you to where you were.

He was intelligent, and soft, and funny in his own dry way, and you were beginning to understand what Cassian and Feyre meant.

It was going perfectly until a woman approached the table, batting her eyelashes toward Azriel and looking to you like you were the biggest pile of nothing on the continent. She was beautiful, long brunette curls and feline honey eyes, and it didn't help like she had the body of a goddess, carved from the finest of marble. You didn't want to admit it, but she made you feel so inferior, so disposable.

Azriel was polite, his fingers drifting against yours the entire time she was at the table, trying to reassure you whilst she essentially asked when she could see him again. In the nicest way he could, Azriel told her that he wasn't interested and asked her to leave, and all that had earned you was a venomous glare and a scoff.

He apologised profusely, and you accepted it, you were willing to let it go. After all, you could understand why women would approach him. Azriel was gorgeous, perhaps the most gorgeous male in all of Prythian, and you couldn't blame anyone for approaching him. If you had that level of confidence then maybe you would have too.

The second time it had happened, it dampened your hopes that a life with Azriel could work.

The Shadowsinger had asked you to go on a walk with him to the markets, he had picked out jewels and other beautiful items that he was sure would look beautiful on you. You had insisted that you didn't need them, that you could but them yourself, but he wasn't having any of it.

It was all going well until another woman showed up, curling her painted fingers around his bicep and pressing her body up against his side. Azriel looked visibly uncomfortable, you'd give him that, and like the same women he sent away at dinner, he told her that he wasn't interested and to leave him alone. The woman all but snarled at you, and you knew that you were going to be the talk of the city, that you were going to be known as Azriel's newest flame.

Unfortunately, it just kept on getting worse.

The people of Velaris had begun coming into the practice faking injuries just so that they'd be able to speak to you and pull the situation between you and Azriel from your lips. It was tiring. Everyone had their pasts, you knew that and you were fine with Azriel's, but it didn't mean that you wanted it waved around in front of your face.

Every single fake patient that waltzed through the doors to your practice served as a constant reminder that you'd never be good enough for Azriel. But you had seen the good in him, you had seen how much he respected you, how his eyes lit up when you spoke about whatever it was that you were passionate about, and you felt his adoration flow down the bond whenever you would see Nyx. You knew that Azriel was smitten, but you also knew that he had no idea just how much everything was effecting you.

It had all come to a head the night he had suggested to make you dinner at his apartment, to minimise the risk of anyone approaching you, and you deduced that it must have been Feyre's idea. Not even the Inner Circle were free of the city gossip mill.

He had done his best to be as comfortable and romantic as possible, and you knew that he wasn't expecting anything to happen, he just wanted you to see how serious he was about you. Candles lined the ledges, and he had placed pillows at the coffee table before the large arched windows which allowed you to see the entire golden valley of Velaris.

It was beautiful. It was perfect.

Then, halfway through the dinner he had impressively made by himself, the door to his apartment opened, and before your eyes stood the same blonde bombshell he had taken home the night you had seen him for the first time. Your breath became lodged in your throat, and all you felt was disappointment and sadness at yet another date being ruined.

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt," she walked further into the room, eyes drifting about the candle-filled ledges with a smirk. "I was hoping that you'd be alone tonight," she was brazen enough to remove her coat, revealing little clothing beneath in an outfit that extenuated her curves and breasts.

Azriel's eyes were trained on you, but you couldn't look at him. You folded your hands into your lap and kept your eyes on the floor, trying your best to not cry in that moment, to not appear as weak. But he could feel it, he could feel the sadness and anger bubbling inside of you.

"Come on, Azriel," she purred, golden hair flowing over her shoulders, "Say goodbye to your latest conquest and come back to me. We both know that she clearly isn't what you want."

That was it.

Wordlessly you rose to your feet, hastily gathering your jacket and satchel in your arms before rounding her toward the door. "Don't take it personally, sweetie," she called after you condescendingly, "You just aren't what he needs."

You had never run anywhere, not because you didn't want to but because you enjoyed your slow meandering, you enjoyed watching the world go by slowly, but you sprinted home that night, ignoring his pleas down the bond and instead deciding to shut it off completely as you slammed the door shut to your bedroom.

A couple weeks passed by, weeks of silence which you channelled into your work, opting to take a research trip to the Autumn Court to sample their botanicals for a new balm you wanted to craft. The best part about leaving the city for awhile was that you could work undisturbed by Azriel and the Inner Circle.

Luckily for you, Eris, the new High Lord, was happy for you to experiment your skills and craft on his soldiers and injured townsfolk, knowing of your reputation and passion for healing. He had offered you a place in his court, doting on you often in a bid to get you to stay, but nothing would get you to leave the wonder that was Velaris, no matter how much you wanted to burrow yourself away and hide for eternity.

That morning, you were nestled at the edge of a brook that was passing through the forest just east of Fir Manor, drawing flowers and examining their properties when you heard the leaves crunch from behind you. From the scent, you knew that it was Eris coming to check on you again. He looked good, he adorned a pair of sage green briefs and a cream blouse, and you couldn't forget the brown leather riding boots you loved so much to the point he had gone out and bought you your own pair.

"This is the third time you've stopped by this morning alone," you spoke, not lifting your gaze from your notebook that was littered with colourful sketches and text.

Eris fell to your side, finding a comfortable place on the blanket you often carried around with you so that your body didn't break against the rocks. "I've been invited to the Night Court to see Lucien. I think that they're hoping that you'll join me."

The pencil in your hand froze against the parchment, and you straightened your posture to look at him, at the amber eyes and fire-red hair that he had recently had cut. Eris had been kind to you, understanding the need to escape for awhile, he had immersed you in his culture, had given you many dresses to fit the season, and not once did you see a droplet of hatred within him.

You were aware that the time was approaching to go back, that you couldn't leave Priscilla on her own for much longer even if Madja was back from her holidays and taking the brunt of the patients in the city. Though, you wished you could have a little longer to enjoy the serenity and joy of your work without everything else weighing down on you.

Looking to him, you smiled thinly, tapping the end of your pencil against the parchment of the notebook, "I suppose it's time that I went back anyway. I'm surprised that the practice hasn't burned to the ground yet."

Eris chuckled, his shoulder brushing against your own, "If things are still tense when we're there, you're always welcome to come back with me."

"Thank you, Eris. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Of course," he smirked, "Anything for Prythian's best healer."

The High Lord jumped to his feet, wiping away any small rocks and pebbles of dirt from his briefs before offering a hand to you and helping you up off of the ground. "Always an ulterior motive with you," you lightly scolded him, looping the strap of your satchel over your shoulder whilst he folded the blanket over his arm.

"Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself?" Eris nudged into you, falling in step with you back toward Fir Manor. Once inside the safety of the walls, Eris asked you to pack your things, including the items he had gifted to you, and winnowed you both to the boarder of the Night Court where Rhys was already waiting.

Eris had never seen anyone so desperate to leave his side in years, he watched intently as you babbled some nonsense about needing to get back to the practice, muttering a soft goodbye before disappearing.

"Are you trying to piss Azriel off?" Rhys asked, eyes following your figure through the woodland until he couldn't see you anymore. You reeked of Eris, of Autumn, and wore a dress of burnt orange and riding boots that matched Eris' own. "You know that they're mates."

"For now," Eris quipped with a smirk, causing Rhys to look toward his new ally with confusion, "Can you blame her for questioning it? Considering every time they've been together it's been ruined by one of his one-night whores?"

Rhys was all too aware of what had happened thanks to Nesta who had heard from Cassian, she was too worried about Azriel to not divulge what she knew even though she couldn't stand to be around Rhys. Plus, Nesta liked you, from what little she had seen, she believed that you were a gift from the mother to them all.

"I can't say that I do," he admitted, frowning at the place where you had been stood, eager to get away from him.

It must have been hard, to find out that you had a mate, to give him a chance for it all to be ruined by his past conquests sticking their noses in where they weren't wanted. Then there was the matter of the gossip, of people truly believing you had slipped him some kind of love tonic to get him to want you. It had infuriated Rhys when he had found out, so much so that he had visited those spreading such vile accusations and ordered them to stop or otherwise be banished from the City of Starlight.

Rhys wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn't with Azriel.

But not with Eris. Never with Eris.

Unwillingly, Rhys escorted Eris to the House of Wind to be with his brother and new sister-in-law, and returned home to Feyre as fast as he possibly could.

It didn't take you long to catch up with an extremely thankful and tired Priscilla, her blue eyes were brimming with exhaustion and stress, her lips were cracked and her skin was dry. You apologised to her profusely, and thanked her for keeping the practice going whilst you took some much needed time away from the city.

Perhaps Alana was right, maybe Azriel would be the ruin of you.

Priscilla told you that she understood, but that she was happy that you were back. So, you gave her the rest of the week off, feeling alive and ready to dive back into the occupation you adored so much. It turned out to be a quiet day, shipping off some balms and ointments for some follow up patients, some minor cuts from training scuffled that were quickly treated and males sent on their way, and before you knew it the sun had began to set.

The chiming of the bell at the entryway signalled that someone had entered the practice past opening hours. Wiping your hands on your tatty apron, you headed into the waiting foyer, not paying much mind to anything until the scent of cedar and mountains kissed your lungs.

Azriel stood before you, eyes wild and appearing somewhat dishevelled, black bags beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and a certain worried paleness clinging to his skin. His shadows sensed you immediately, shooting from his shoulders and dancing around your waist.

In your haste to work you had forgotten to take a shower or change out of the clothes Eris had gifted you, and you saw that Azriel had noticed the style and scent that surrounded you. But, he swallowed harshly and rasped, "You look beautiful."

His tired words threatened to cleave your heart into a million pieces, "Thank you."

Silence hung between you, heavy and tense, and you weren't sure what to say. Should you apologise for the clothing and the scent of Eris that lingered around you? Should you apologise for disappearing without a trace with no way for him to contact you?

Azriel looked lost, like he hadn't slept since the night you left his apartment in such a hurry, but the words of that woman still lingered in your mind. Conquest. Not what he needs. It dawned on you that he may not have known just how deeply it had effected you, how inexperienced you had realised you were, how insecure these women had caused you to feel.

"I'm sorry, for that night at my apartment. I didn't invite her, I don't know why she even showed up," he took a step toward you and you didn't move, not knowing what it was that you wanted in that moment, "I should have gone after you. I should have stopped you from leaving but you silenced the bond and I thought I was the last person you wanted to see. I was wrong."

"Azriel, I-"

"Please," he took another step toward you, and kept on moving until his fingers caressed beneath your chin and pulled your gaze up to meet his eyes. "I didn't think that I deserved to be loved, not after what I've done. I thought that the mother had taken one look at me decided that I wasn't worth it. So, yes, I slept around, I wanted to do all I could to forget the fact that I was destined to be alone forever even though having a mate, having you, was all that I've ever wanted."

"You are magnificent, y/n. Truly. No woman even holds a candle to you. You are intelligent and passionate, you are beautiful and peaceful in ways that I never thought I'd be able to witness or feel. I stopped wanting to look back, I stopped wanting to say goodbye to the people I love, and then I met you and I knew I'd found the one I wanted to look back to every night and look forward to every morning."

"You are not a conquest to me. I was ready to accept the bond the moment you entered the room that night when I was lying there dying. You are my everything, you are my reason to live and breathe, you are my salvation. I don't want to live my life without you, not after I've gotten to see you in a way I know that no one else has. Please, y/n. Please come back to me."

You could feel the tears pooling atop your bottom lids, his touch was feverish but unrelenting, his hands cupped your face and his eyes searched your soul for a hint of acceptance.

"Azriel, I don't think that I can," your bottom lip wobbled, and the pain of your insecurity bloomed devilishly inside of your chest. "Your past doesn't bother me, and I never want you to think that it does. Every moment I've spent with you has left me wanting you more and more every day. But I'm not like them, I'm inexperienced in intimacy and dedicated to my work, and I can't allow myself to tarnish everything I have accomplished. I can't allow myself to feel small and insignificant anymore."

"You're not small or insignificant, y/n," his brow furrowed and he felt you slipping away, he didn't need the open bond to understand how much pain you were in, not when he could see it all etched upon your face. "You're everything that I've ever dreamed of. Please."

The moment you stepped away from his embrace, Azriel visibly winced, like he had been shot with a nightshade arrow through the heart. "I need time to think, Az. I need space to figure out if I can do this. Be yours but also be mine."

He didn't want to pester you, he didn't want to beg and make you feel like you owed him anything, but gods, did he want to crawl onto his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. To Azriel, you were the sun, you were the moon, you were the seasons. You were everything.

Azriel swallowed his words, his pleads, and gently nodded his head, stepping forward and placing a chaste kiss on your cheek before retreating from the practice, carefully clicking the door behind his exit.

It took you a few minutes to be able to gather yourself, to be able to move from that spot, but you did, if not for yourself then for Alana and Eris that were making it their mission to take you to Rita's for a few drinks, to allow you to let off a little bit of steam.

In the next hour, you were bathed and donned in a tight metallic bronze dress with a high slit that reached your hip, a plunging neckline and hair waved down your spine. Eris was always barking at you to live in the moment, and for once you were inclined to agree. So when he and Alana saw the light spill from your opened door, did they turn around and gasp at the woman who stood before them.

"I didn't know that you could clean up this well," Eris mused, earning a light slap on the shoulder as you moved from the practice to join him and Alana on the walk up to Rita's.

"I told you that I could look good when I wanted to."

Alana hummed knowingly, "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you told Azriel you needed space?"

"Maybe a little bit."

Eris laughed, bold and proud, "Showing the Shadowsinger what he's missing. I didn't know that you had it in you."

Rolling your eyes, you noticed Rita's in the distance, and the queues of fae waiting to be allowed in, "This is actually for me. I'm tired of feeling inadequate and looked over. Tonight everyone gets to see that I'm not something to be ignored."

After a short walk up the paved hill, the two fae guards on the doors quickly ushered you inside, and the scent of alcohol and the thick wall of sweat instantly crashed into you. Alana excused herself to go and get drinks for you all whilst Eris led you over to the booth where Lucien and Elain sat, across the room from the others but in their direct eyeline.

Whispers sprouted around you, causing your shoulders to tense up. The healer that had been meddling with the Shadowsinger was now latched to the hip of the High Lord of Autumn.

What a cunning little thing.

So much ambition.

You did your best to ignore them as you walked behind Eris toward his brother and Elain, smiling sweetly at the pair as they rose to greet you, hugging you tightly and telling you how nice it was to be able to finally meet you. Elain was charming and kind, and Lucien was warm and welcoming, and they took you under their wings effortlessly, blocking out the demeaning whispers from the fae surrounding and watching you.

After a few more drinks and shots, thanks to Alana, you found yourself leaning into Eris' side, hazed by the heat and slightly tipsy. You laughed with Elain and shared your love of flowers with her, and you spent time with Lucien telling him how beautiful you found his home court, speaking of the markets and the food in detail. "Sorry brother, but I'd like to steal y/n for a dance."

Eris was stood at your side, looking down at you expectantly with his hand offered out to you. Part of you should have known better, you should have known that Azriel was watching you from across the room, watching as the love of his life was swept away by another Vanserra.

Nudging you to your feet, you sent Lucien a wry smile as you took Eris' hand and allowed him to lead you to the centre of the dancefloor. He pulled you close to his chest and swayed with you to the beat of the music that flowed through the room.

"Does Azriel even know what he's missing?" Eris spoke lowly into your ear, lowering his mouth to the shell of it so that you could hear his voice in your soul. "If I were him, I'd crawl across the fires of hell to have you."

Eris was being brazen. He raised his fingers to your face, the tips of them flitting across your cheek to a strand of hair that had fallen down the side of your face, pushing it back eloquently behind your pointed ear. His fingers lingered, sparks of fire nipping at the skin of your neck as his fingers travelled downward.

You weren't sure what to expect, but you couldn't exactly blame the fist that had flown into Eris' jaw, sending the High Lord crashing to the floor. Azriel stood over him, the crowd had parted to watch the spectacle vying for your attention. Your eyes had blown wide, and it took you a moment to come back into the room. Azriel turned from Eris and stalked over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his chin on the crown of your head as he made the world dissipate in swirls of colour until you were stood in the centre of his apartment.

Azriel towered over you, eyes wild and possessive. You hadn't seen him look to territorial before, but the look in his eyes had you in a chokehold. "My past with females isn't what bothers you. It's having it in your face constantly, it's the whispers and cruelty that bothers you. I understand that now, and I'm sorry that I didn't see that before." Azriel's voice was calm, too calm, like a predator prepping their prey, luring them into wings of security.

His marred fingers traced where Eris' had once been and his eyes flickered with fury, "But Eris does not get to touch you like that. You are mine, y/n. I refuse to let you go."

"You are not what they say you are," he took a step toward you, the force of his knees against your thighs ushering you backward, "They are jealous of you, of us, because they'll never get to know what this is like. They'll never get to know the taste of your skin or the way your name sounds on my lips. They'll never get to know the love I have for you," his hand gripped your waist, and Azriel continued to walk you backward until the backs of your legs hit the ledge of his couch.

"Because I do love you, y/n. With everything I have, I love you. I knew it from the moment I saw you, I knew that I was going to fall in love with you. Nothing could ever take me from you," his lips brushed over your collarbone, igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before, "I am yours forever. And I promise you, I vow that no one will ever make you feel insignificant ever again. Not unless they want to die by my hand. I would rip the world apart to ensure your happiness."

Azriel's words struck a chord inside of you, and you couldn't help but allow the bond to open, to allow his flood of emotions to crash into you like waves against the Summer Court rocks.

"Azriel," you spoke his name breathlessly, too focused on the sensation of his lips peppering soft kisses along your collarbone and neck. "Please."

He pulled away from you, placing his hands on either side of your neck and stroking his thumbs against your ears, "Tell me."

You had known for a long time, since the moment he had turned up at the steps of your practice holding flowers with a love-sick smile plastered on his lips. "I love you too," and you felt the bond sing at your admission, so brilliant and bright that your heart felt like it was going to lurch from its cage. "Please, Az. I need you."

Azriel lowered his lips to yours, hovering a feathers touch from your own, his breath scented with the faint aroma of whisky fanning over your face. With your slight nod, Azriel closed that gap and felt the bond fall into place, thrumming and secure, on the cusp of being fulfilled.

Your mouths moved in sync against one another, and Azriel effortless scooped you into his arms and carried you over to his bed, setting you down as gently as he could before climbing on top of you. His hands roamed your body, the curves of your hips and the mounds of your breasts, his fingers traced circled into the skin of your exposed thigh, teasing the sensitive area and smirking against your lips as you writhed beneath him under his touch.

His lips moved to your neck, sucking and nipping the skin there between his teeth, allowing you to begin unbuttoning his shirt to expose his toned chest. Azriel pulled away slightly when your fingers began drifted over the areas where his wounds once were, the wounds you had saved him from. "They're gone," you told him quietly, lips swollen but smiling under the dim light.

Azriel brushed your hair behind your ears and brushed his nose against yours, dragging the tip down the slope of it, "I told you that you were my salvation. I wasn't lying."

"I'm starting to believe that."

His eyes sparked with mischief and he sent a wave of love down the bond as he kissed your lips once more, "Let me show you."

And so he did.

Author's Note

SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭

Really hoping that this has done the amazing ask some justice 🥺

Also I was so close to writing smut for this fic - looks like I'll need to do a part two or something...

Taglist

@mokansa @killseinx @lady-targaryens-world @brieftriumphnightmare @thesunloveschips @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

Text

Wanting You, Wanting Me

pairing: azriel x reader

based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept

warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos

summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead

Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.

Or maybe it was just her.

Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.

Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.

Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.

You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.

You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.

It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.

He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.

You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”

You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.

You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.

“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”

“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”

Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”

“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”

Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.

Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.

Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.

You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.

The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.

“You never do.”

You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”

Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”

The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”

“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I can’t.”

You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”

His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”

Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.

The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."

It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.

His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."

Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."

You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.

Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.

Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.

You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.

It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.

And this time, you didn’t dream.

There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.

Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.

Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”

Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will."

"Azriel—"

Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"

“What?”

You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."

"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."

"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"

"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it—she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."

You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."

Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."

Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."

"But, I thought—"

"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."

It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"

Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."

His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."

Maybe reality was better than dreaming.

Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acowar #acotar #angst #send asks #acotar fanfiction #acosf #fluff #best friends to lovers

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7seas-of-ryy · 5 months ago

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I Need You | Part 2

Author’s Note: I wanted to give more background before I get to the main storyline so that's what this part is all about! Thank you to everyone who took time to read Part 1, it means more than you know <3

Summary: You spend a lovely day in the city and reflect on your life so far.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Blood, mentions of kidnapping and torture, death, let me know if I need to add any others :)

You started off your day at a coffee shop and bakery. You took your time eating a small pastry just enjoying yourself. You already felt better compared to the terror you felt this morning. As you sat at the little table outside of the cafe, you couldn't help but people watch. You had been with the IC since before under the mountain, you witnessed so many vile acts that you liked to embrace moments like these.

So, you watched the table next to you which had a woman who appeared to be writing a book. A smile filling her face as it seemed she found the perfect word to use. Next, you spot a couple walking past the cafe with their child. All three giggling at something, hope of a bright future in their eyes. Then you see a couple at another table, gazing into each other's eyes so full of love.

You wanted that so badly, that love. But if giving up that longing part of yourself meant keeping everyone around you happy, you'd do it. Everyone always assumed you and the spymaster would end up together. You spent every available moment each of you had together. But you knew he was in love with Mor. Then Elain showed up and you witnessed them grow closer.

Azriel was never cold towards you as his affections for her grew, he just didn't see you as often. And after everything they had been through, they deserved that love. You'd accept any bit of his friendship he'd give you, like meeting at the new bakery later.

For now, you needed to stop thinking about that and just enjoy your day. It had been a while since you had a break and you knew you needed it. You were an important asset to the group which meant you were always busy with work.

Growing up, your dad loved to travel, to see different cultures. Since the day you were born, you went with him and your mom. He would travel from court to court no matter how dangerous. He even took you to the human lands, where you found a love for the mortals. Traveling all over and seeing all the different ways of life taught you so much, you became an expert on every court.

In your free time you would study the history of each court, you were highly intelligent and wanted to learn. You loved every minute of it, until a visit to the autumn court. You tried to stay hidden at the more dangerous courts, blend in to learn about them. You would set up camp far away in the woods if you had to.

One morning, you woke covered in blood. At first you believed it was yours and something had attacked you. Only for you to realize your father was laying dead in his bed and your mother was missing. There wasn't even a scratch on you. You immediately ran to see if you could find your mother but there was no trace of her.

You took off running, you didn't even have shoes on. You weren't sure how long you were running for, you didn't know where you were running to. As you were running, you saw shadows appear in front of you, then their owner. Azriel had saved you that day and brought you back to the Night Court.

Rhysand immediately offered you sanctuary and a job. You helped them with research, translations, and your knowledge of the other courts. You were never trained in the physical sense growing up, but Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Rhysand all took you to train in your spare time.

Azriel always seemed to keep you company as you worked. That was how your friendship truly started. He was always so kind to you and his shadows loved you, wrapping themselves around you any chance they could. He started calling you sunshine one night, stating that no matter how dark he felt he knew he could always come to you for some light. That nickname stuck and everyone in the IC started calling you Sunshine. After everything that had happened to you, you were so happy to have another family.

Eventually under the mountain happened, then the war, and then you witnessed Az give Elain a beautiful necklace. Once it all settled, you knew you should just be grateful to have survived. Be grateful you have a whole day to do things you loved.

After the cafe you went to a few shops. You bought a few toys for Nyx, some jewelry for Amren, and a beautiful sketch book for Feyre. After all that shopping, you were tired and hungry. You grabbed a snack and your book you packed and head over to a big tree. You sat at the bottom of it, enjoying the shade and your book. You didn't know how long you were reading for but it seemed like the day was going by fast.

You decided to head over to the art shops just to view the beautiful pieces that were created. There were so many talented people, the paintings always left you in awe. You ended up buying a painting for your room. You were too excited to get home and put it up. After paying and talking with the artist for a while, you noticed it was almost time to meet Az.

You gathered up all of your stuff and made your way to the bakery. Az wasn't there yet so you chose to wait outside for him. Hopefully he would help you carry some of the bags. You laughed softy thinking you may have gone overboard on the shopping.

You waited and waited and still there was no sign of Azriel. You thought that it was odd seeing as he was always on time. You were starting to get a little concerned when you heard some shuffling coming from the alley on the side of the bakery.

Relief washed over you and you realized he didn't stand you up.

"Oh good, Az, I was beginning to think you forgot about me. Here, can you help me with these bags?" you spoke looking down at your shopping haul and holding them out to him.

There was no response but maybe he didn't hear you.

"Az? Are you there?" You spoke a little louder.

Suddenly a giant man with bright red hair and a sly grin walked out from the alley, no not one. Ten. Ten men walked out and as I looked around to leave I realized there was no one else out here to help me.

Then the leader of them spoke. "You know, I like kidnapping and torturing my targets, but... I love it when they're pretty little things like you."

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel x you

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jsmelodies · 11 days ago

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I'd Go Back to the Winter

Five years ago, Elain Archeron loved Lucien Vanserra. Supposedly. She can’t remember a single second of it. And the only way to bring it back is to relive it all.

@laxibbeb It's me, your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange!

It has been so, so lovely getting to know you over the past couple of months. I'll admit that I was nervous about trying my hand at Elucien, but I've enjoyed our talks so much and getting to be creative with this!

I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one. I do usually stay in canon verse, but not typically in this way. I played around with it a lot here - and I had so much fun doing it!

You said you liked fanfics that were a little Out There, so I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it💕

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

The figure slid into Lucien’s booth just as he finished the last dregs of ale. The long, dark cloak billowed with the movement of footsteps across the creaking floorboards.

The tavern air was humid and sticky, and the fabric of his jacket clung to his chest with sweat. But it was better than the air outside, with a wind so cold it might freeze off the extremities on his face.

And although Lucien had never had a problem staying warm, this was no night for anyone to be outside.

The tavern was one of Velaris’ worst. Perhaps one that his mate’s sister might have frequented, back when she did such things. Maybe that was why she picked it, taking the first seedy tavern that popped into her head.

It didn’t matter to him.

Truth be told, this was one of the last places he wanted to be. Being in this damned city was bad enough, without the invitation that he couldn’t refuse.

Meet me. Written in that perfect, delicate handwriting that was the result of years of forced practice, of tutoring until she looped her letters and dotted her i’s just so. A trained courtier she could certainly be, if she ever wished it. With her pleasant smiles that could bring a man to his knees, she was suited for it.

She lit up a room, bringing it to life. In all ways that mattered.

Her bedroom in the human lands had been anything but dull. Much to her sister’s dismay, she had ivy growing on the walls, even in the wintertime, filling the room with a lush green that drew his eyes from the drab landscape of the human realm. There were potted plants, flowers that reached for the scarce sunlight that set way too quickly. Never enough time, never enough light.

But under her thumb, they thrived. They were vibrant, an explosion of color as they sat on her windowsill.

Persevering. Enduring. Making the most out of what was sparsely given.

Elain Archeron was meant to be in the sunlight. She was light. And even in the mortal lands, it had been clear as day.

The tavern surrounded her in shadow. The cloak she wore covered everything, concealing her identity from all who would dare to look. So utterly dramatic, his mate.

“Elain. Lovely to see you.”

She forced a smile that had become common between them as of late. “Lucien.”

Her hands grabbed the sides of the hood to bring it down around her neck. The tips of her ears poked out from her hair, golden and set in near perfect curls on her back. When she was human, the pattern had been different—still beautiful, but in soft waves that he could run his fingers through.

Now, though, he was almost scared to touch, in fear of ruining their perfection. If she even let him get that far.

She’d been pretty before the war, devastatingly so. Even then, he’d known that he wasn’t enough for her. Elain Archeron was a woman that kings went to war over, and somehow, she’d fallen into his arms instead: a landless emissary with next to nothing to offer.

But her, as high fae? He had to admit that she’d always been meant to be this way. Even if she disagreed, and hated him for thinking so. He hated himself for thinking it, too.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. The drunk males leered at them from the bartop, and her nose scrunched at the scent that made its way into her nose. She was out of place here, with the pristine dress that he was sure she wore under her cloak, and the clink of gold that he could hear on her wrists.

“This seems like the last place a lady such as yourself would want to meet,” he said. “I do admit, I am quite surprised you suggested it.”

“No one will bother us here,” she explained.

When the barkeep looked their way, Lucien raised his hand in silent request for his glass to be refilled. Elain, however, shook her head when the male’s attention shifted to her, declining what he offered.

“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want your family seeing us together, would you? It would send the wrong idea.”

She gave him a cruel smile. Well, as cruel as someone like Elain could manage. “Exactly.”

He leaned forward so his weight rested on his elbows, just as his next mug of ale arrived. He let it sit there, his attention focused entirely elsewhere.

The female across from him was much, much more important.

Some things never changed, he supposed. Her tells were the same as they always had been. Still not entirely used to her fae body, he assumed she didn’t know that he could hear it, the slight shake of her leg beneath the table.

Easy enough to hide, from wandering eyes. Indistinguishable enough that she wouldn’t have been chastised for it.

But he could hear it. Faintly. Steadily. The scratch of her heel along the wood of the bar seat, moving up and down as she stared.

Elain Archeron, for all intents and purposes, was nervous.

“I was wondering when you would eventually want to see me again,” he commented, at last picking up the ale that was waiting for him.

That little fire in her eyes sparked. The one that warmed the brown, full of indignation that had once been trained into submission. He’d brought it out of her, stoking it to life once. And he’d loved every second of it.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the mating bond pulls at you, doesn’t it? Just like it does for me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

But she gave him that look she always did when she knew she was backed into a corner. So he said, “It pulls and pulls, and at some point, you wonder what you’re missing.”

She didn’t deny him. Call him an arrogant prick all she wanted, but he was right, wasn’t he?

“Well, what is it? You want to give it another go? You want to break the bond? What do you want?”

He didn’t see her next words coming. “I want to remember how it happened.”

The question blanketed over the air between them. It thickened the room like smoke, to the point that he could hardly think, or breathe.

She wanted to know. About them, and how he’d broken her heart. Which, given how they ended up in this predicament, he wasn’t overly convinced to do.

“No.”

“No?”

“Last I remembered, you were begging to forget me.” Lucien offered her a smile, but he knew without looking at it that it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be a terrible mate if I took that back, wouldn’t I?”

“But I’m asking you to.” She blinked in that way of hers that showed off her long eyelashes, slow and intentional. It was how she got what she wanted, he’d learned. “It would make a wonderful Solstice present.”

“I was thinking of a nice necklace instead. Perhaps to match the earrings you never wear.”

“Charming.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “I do think I would prefer this, though.”

Delightful. This was exactly how he wanted to spend the holidays: dragging a female that hated him across Prythian.

It was what that damned witch had told him to do if he ever wanted to reverse it. He’d tracked her all the way to the edges of Oorid, to the place right before the wetland consumed the ground entirely. The small cottage had been built upon the squishy mud, stabilized by some ancient magic that he felt twisting around his bones.

It went quickly. They had struck a bargain.

There was no other payment he could offer to a witch that fed on memories, so he’d offered one of his most precious ones, in exchange for the piece of her magic he desired.

The magic that Elain had pleaded for.

And with that magic, came very clear instructions. For Elain to remember any of it, she had to experience it all again: every twist and turn, every moment of joy and heartbreak.

It was painful for him to think about, even five years later. What would it be like for it all to be fresh in her mind again?

“You want to know the story, then?” he asked. “You want to relive it? You want to hate me even more than you already do?” He couldn’t stop his lip from raising in a slight sneer. “Tell me this, Elain. What will you do when you learn? Because I could handle it once, your hatred. But I don’t think I’m inclined to be on the receiving end of that anger again.”

She held his stare for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I will have a reaction that is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust your promises.” The words came out more harshly than he intended.

She let the words linger.

Her eyes blazed through the space, perfect and defiant and everything he was supposed to love. “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

The words cut through him, unrelenting as they tore through his heart. Five years ago, he craved to hear those words.

He knew the truth of it—that there was a fine line between love and hate. And that Elain Archeron loved him such that she’d lost herself in it, that with that final blow, it was so easy for it to switch. To cross that line into loathing, until she couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him.

“I loved you. Didn’t I?” she asked.

He took a sip, and set his glass down on the table. “You did.”

Her lips set into a line, and she straightened in her seat. “I want to know why.” When he didn’t respond, she said a touch softer, “I’m ready to know why.”

Maybe five years was enough to lessen the hurt of it. It was that thought that sparked hope in his chest, that this might be enough to get them talking again. He wouldn’t go quite so far as to hope for her forgiveness. No, that wouldn’t come for a long while.

Maybe, though, they could take that first step.

He looked over her, his decision made. “Pack a bag, Elain. This is going to take a while.”

***

She met him in the morning. She slipped out of the river house before anyone was awake to notice her leave, placing a single note on the main table excusing her absence for the next week.

A garden on the other side of Velaris, was what she said. With enough detail to bore Feyre and Nesta to death, so that they would leave it alone.

No one would investigate. She’d never given them a reason to.

She’d never been to his apartment, yet she knew where it was. That golden thread in her chest knew where to find him, leading her through the labyrinth of Velaris’ streets until she arrived at a building in the heart of the business district, tall and made from red bricks from the mountain range that surrounded the city.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t think she ever would. How sometimes it felt like he was wrapped around her heart, coiled around it tightly in a tapestry of golden light.

How she could feel his essence through it—something she felt like she was supposed to miss, without knowing why.

How was she supposed to miss someone she didn’t remember?

She missed the laugh that she couldn’t place. The steady breathing that she was sure appeared when he was in a deep sleep, passed out beside her, even if it never formed fully in her mind’s depth.

Sometimes when she saw the glint in his hair, or when the sun hit the russet brown of his eye, she felt a pang in her chest. There was the urge to take those long strands through her fingers, and cup his face with her palm.

Sometimes, she swore she felt the faintest of touches. His lips against her own, the ghost of his hand along her waist. Her hip.

She could hear the soft rasp of his whisper, air pressing against the shell of her ear. Could see the slightest dimple from his smile.

Like she had known once what it had meant to be loved; cherished.

It always slipped from her mind like smoke. And, quite honestly, she didn’t know how she was able to miss it. But she knew that she did, even though she couldn’t name any of it.

Just as dawn broke, she knocked firmly on his apartment door. It was towards the back of the hallway on the second floor, and he answered within mere seconds.

The two of them exchanged brief greetings, awkward and strained as she avoided his eyes. He took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder with a graceful movement. She fought to keep her jaw shut, watching the firm lines of muscle flex under his pressed jacket. She’d always found him handsome, even in those early days after the Cauldron, when she hated him and didn’t know why. All she knew then was that she’d begged him to take it away—and he had.

Elain took his hand, and then he brought them through that void in between space. They landed in the middle of the woods, the mortal woods, and the nearly rotted leaves poked out through the snow.

Before them stood a cottage, one that was all too familiar.

For years, she’d lived here. Suffered through harsh winters. Prayed that a single vegetable would grow in that garden, in the hopes that they might be fed.

She hated this cottage.

Memories slammed through her, of trying to stop Feyre and Nesta from ripping each other’s throats out. She’d played mediator for far too long in that house, taking the middle of the bed when her sisters could barely stand to look at each other, even in the height of summer when all she could feel was her sisters’ body heat melting onto her.

The cottage hadn’t fared well, it seemed. The roof had finally caved in, and vines covered the chipped wooden walls.

No one could possibly live here now. She didn’t even know how they lived here all those years ago. Looking at it now, it was pathetic. Certainly not fit for a family of four. If anything, it was fit for a family of squirrels.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Sympathy filled his expression, as if he knew the toll that all those years in poverty had taken. Maybe they’d talked about it at great length, before it happened.

Did she share everything with him? All her insecurities, all her doubts? Her dreams of leaving this place behind, and exploring what the world had to offer?

She didn’t know. But Lucien looked at her like he knew her, like his soul was familiar with hers. And she hated it, hated how some part of her reached out and grabbed some invisible hand. How he seemed to reach back, sliding a comforting thumb over the center of her palm.

Even as her hands laid limply at her sides. That phantom touch terrified her, and she knew it was the bond. Knew it was her trying to find comfort, and him trying to provide it.

It was part of why she stayed away from him for so long. The mating bond was a sixth sense, one that she had gone nearly a quarter of a century without. Using it felt unnatural; different from anything she had ever known.

His eyes dropped to her hands for just a moment, before he cleared his throat. “We will not stay here incredibly long, I assure you. As I recall, you were not fond of this place.” He offered her a hesitant smile, and said, “All stories have a beginning, though, and ours starts here.”

***

A snowflake fell to the ground as Lucien approached the cottage in the woods.

He adjusted his sleeves, shivering in the wind that seeped in through his jacket and chilled his Autumn blood. He’d forgotten how cold the mortal lands could be this time of year. With Spring always remaining a constant, lovely temperature, he supposed he’d become a bit spoiled. And he hadn’t done a route through here in ages.

Had Andras been cold when he died?

He imagined the blood of his friend staining the snow a bright red. He imagined a mortal huntress bringing him down with a single ash arrow, and skinning the pelt right off of him. He shuddered at the thought, and forced it from his mind.

He’d never met these humans, but he hated them already. No matter that they hadn’t been the ones to fire the arrow. It was irrational, he knew. For they were the reason his friend had died. His death had been toasted at their dinner table, while they ate and clinked their glasses.

Andras had to die. He knew that. But Andras had been his friend, and they spent most of their evenings playing cards by the crackling fire.

The human had killed his friend, and Tamlin was already acting like a lovesick fool. Offering a damned estate to mortals who he didn’t owe a single copper to. A house that wasn’t about to collapse in on itself would have worked just fine, if you asked him.

Looking at the cabin in front of him, he noted that it was rather pathetic. A thin stream of smoke escaped from a hole in the roof, and he knew just from looking at it that the fire below couldn’t possibly be warming the entire cabin.

Tamlin had done a number on this place. The door was barely on its hinges, as if somebody had made a poor attempt of putting it back into place.

There was a garden in the front, barren from the winter, with only a few lifeless shrubs to indicate that anything had ever grown here in the first place. And the rest of it was drab, more so than he expected, and he had to force his sympathy deep down in his chest where it belonged.

He’d do his job, play his part, and then he could get damn well out of here.

He raised his hands to the door, making sure to knock lightly enough so the door wouldn’t fall right off.

At first, he thought no one would answer. Perhaps without Feyre here, the family had frozen in the cold. He hoped that wasn’t the case, for the sole reason that it might complicate matters. Feyre would be far less cooperative if she learned that her human family no longer breathed, and…

As the thought formed in his mind, he realized how terrible it sounded.

To his relief, though, Then there was a shuffling across the floor, starting from the other side of the cabin, it sounded like, and the door was pulled back just a hair.

Even though Tamlin glamoured him before he left, this woman seemed to stare at where his mask should be, at where his now round ears would normally point into tips.

So, this was the family that the human girl had talked about. He tried to keep his unimpressed look contained as the woman opened the door wider, a sneer already forming on her face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Miss Archeron?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment. “What is it to you?”

“Your father’s ships. They’ve landed at the docks.”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It would have been entirely so, if he had been untrained to pick up on such things.

But despite how well-constructed this woman’s mask was, he could pick apart the apprehension, and the disbelief.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“You can call me Lucien,” he said, giving a polite dip of his head. “As I said, the ships arrived just this morning. We couldn’t quite believe it, after all these years.”

She blinked, long and slow. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” She stepped back from the doorway just enough so she could bring the door forward. She said with a snarl, “I would advise you to leave.”

He shoved his foot into the space between the door and the wall, holding back his wince when the woman didn’t hesitate in her movement. It dug into his foot with a searing pain, and the force that this mortal woman put into her blow almost made him wince.

Still, though, he forced his face to be pleasant. “And what makes you think it is a lie?” It rolled smoothly off of his tongue, meant to put the woman at ease.

It didn’t work. Instead, her gaze narrowed on him, ladled with suspicion.

“Nesta, let the man inside,” came a soft lilt from behind her.

Nesta, he assumed, held the door in a death grip, not budging even after the other woman had told her otherwise. Until that woman came to the doorway herself, to see the commotion with her own eyes.

Her own beautiful, deep brown eyes.

Poverty could only hide so much. Even in her simple dress, and the meals she clearly lacked, she was ethereal anyways—a goddess that had somehow taken a human form, who deigned to look at the stranger upon her doorstep with warmth.

He sketched a bow, and murmured, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, lady…?”

The corners of her lips lifted as she blushed. “Elain.”

#elucien #acotar gift exchange #elucien fanfiction #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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readychilledwine · 10 months ago

Text

Lost Bonds pt 3

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- alcohol use, implied affair,implied smut, sex magic/sex pollen

A/n- Everything will be explained to y/n and wrapped in a mostly pretty bow in Part 4 on Tuesday 💚

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 4

Tamlin sat in silence, nursing hard alcohol as Rhys reappeared before him hours later. “It explains a lot,” Rhysand said softly as he sat. Tamlin pushed the Winter Court Scotch Rhysand's way. “I swear we didn't know, Tamlin.”

“So Feyre admitted it?” Rhys nodded, staring into the bonfire Tamlin had going. “She's not truly happy anymore, Rhys.”

“We know. She hasn't been happy since she watched Cassian and Nesta fall in love and their mating bond grow, then Lucien and Elain, then Amren and Varian, Eris and his wife. Mor and Emerie.” The High Lord threw back a heavy drink. “Then Azriel found his mate. And now she feels like she's an obstacle to his happiness, he feels she's a burden but refuses to let her go. He wants both."

Tamlin hummed, ignoring the flaring anger at the idea of his mate being treated like a second choice, like a burden. “How did she end up in Spring?”

Rhys sighed and looked down. “She wanted to get away from Azriel. They had gotten into a fight while he was training her. She wanted to go somewhere she'd be loved and safe unconditionally.”

Rhys paused, eyes locked on the stars. “It's funny, you know, Feyre painted their dresser drawers to fit their personalities and they've predicted their mates too.” He drank heavily again, eyes watering slightly. “Feyre painted the night sky on hers and became the stars eternal. Nesta's was bathed in flames so red the closest match we could find to recreate the dresser was Cassian's siphons, and we watched that scene during the war with that so called God, silver flames blazing and reflecting the red of my brother's armor. Elain's danced with sunlight and flowers. Her and Lucien the heir of the fucking Day Court,” Tamlin couldn't help the laugh that came with that sentence, nor could Rhys. “They live in Helion's largest garden in a cabin.”

“And y/n?”

“A raging storm and blooming trees.”

“And yet you all keep her there. Where she isn't destined by the Mother to be and where she is screaming for freedom.”

“Feyre isn't prepared to forgive nor forget.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, purposely pushing every moment he had done something to make up for what he had done into Rhysand's mind. “I believe I have more than atoned for my sins against the female that started this all on a lie. The female who ended my curse should have been my mate, Rhys. That's why I fought so hard. Why I protected her even if my methods were ideas from my father and blind trauma. Did you not explain that to her?"

Rhys avoided answering, torn between the part of him that knew Tamlin was correct and the mating bond screaming to protect and defend inside of him. “I'll start sending her to you as an emissary. If the bond snaps on her end, we go from there. And Tamlin,” the High lord took his former friend's chin into his face. “Be grateful. Be grateful you didn't hear y/n's neck snap, that you didn't watch her be tortured for 3 months. That-”

“I watched the woman I loved go through all of that. Then I watched my mate be forced into an ancient world creating pot because i trusted the wrong female,” Tamlin took back the Scotch, drinking enough to burn his throat. “I think we understand each other more than you are willing to believe.”

Rhys nodded, looking away. “Y/n likes her bed made with 3 blankets so she can sleep with the window open at all times. She thinks white flowers are the prettiest. She likes chocolate way too much for a normal person.”

Rhysand's jaw tightened before he continued. “Do you remember how my sister use to scrunch her nose really hard when she was thinking?”

Tamlin chuckled softly into his hand, picturing her little face so clearly. “Y/n does the same thing.” It was a quiet confession, one that could have came with an apology, but the two of them has accepted the words “I'm sorry” would never be passed between them many years ago.

“So you've kept her from me because she reminds you of Stella?” Rhys just nodded before winnowing away.

Tamlin felt his lip twitch when you first appeared two months later. Rhys was either stupid, or fatherhood had made the male forget to look at a calendar. You were here for a 3 day weekend visit to discuss trade between Spring and the Night Court.

A 3 day weekend that fell on Calanmai. Tamlin was shaking as he led you to the chambers he had built just for you. Chambers his Lady would reside in when or if they were choosing to sleep in separate beds.

He realized he would have to keep you in the manor tonight, but excluding a guest from a court's most important holiday was considered a major offense. He thought about calling for Rhys, calling to remind him what today was, but he knew, at least he thought he did, that you would stay inside. It had worked with Feyre, after all. He had stopped searching for her when she wasn't easy to get to. Surely it would be the same for you. The magic would switch and call to another. He'd be able to ignore the scent of lilac, gooseberry, and fresh parchment.

He pushed open the door and watched your face with a deep breath held in his chest. “Tamlin, this room is too nice. This is clearly meant for someone with high standing. It's across from yours, I can't-”

“These are guest quarters for a high-ranking guest,” the lie came so smoothly. “You are a high-ranking guest. Get settled. I'll have a handmaid come get you for tea.” He shut the door behind you, going back to preparations and letting the kitchen know he needed tea made.

Your guest room was fit for a queen, not a guest. A large walk-in closet sat willed with dresses, an island in the middle with drawers for jewelry. A standing mirror with ornate patterns of florals and vines sat unused, untouched. The bed was massive, possibly larger than the one you shared with Azriel, and it had soft satin sage green sheets, a fur throwing blanket lining the foot. 4 posts came off the bed, a light cream colored fabric and curtains creating a canopy and optional privacy. A vanity sat, empty and waiting for its lady to fill it with oils and lotions.

He had clearly put you in a Lady's quarters. A safe place for her to be away from her husband. Something you had asked Azriel for since his bond with Gwyn snapped, and you two had begun drifting apart. Something he continued to deny you as tensions grew between you two.

You entered the door opposite of the closet and felt your heart begin to dance. The bathroom was stunning. White and grey marbled floors, a sunk in tub large enough for two, accents of that same soft green and gold. It was what the tub overlooked that made your heart truly flutter, though. It overlooked a garden and the forest. Elain would have killed for this view, but instead, you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and you took it all into yourself. Hogging the moment and soaking in it.

Nightfall came quickly, and Tamlin had warned you of what would come. You had made the choice to stay inside even though a pang of jealousy reared its ugly head.

You had no claim to him. No ownership over his body, his choices. It didn't change the emotion, though, as you laid your hands over the edge of that tub and watched fire make shadows dance across the leaves.

He had warned you that you may feel tugging, a pull urging you to come outside. He had asked that you ignore it, and Cauldron, you were trying. You were ignoring that growing warmth in your stomach, the haze setting into your mind. You tried to focus on thoughts of the fight you and Azriel would finish when you got home. Of the way you would crawl into a separate bed from your husband as soon as he fell asleep, still smelling like Gwyn. You tried to focus your thoughts on your marriage and how it was slowly crumbling below you after his actions.

But those tugs were growing stronger, aching in your chest with desire and need. You jumped as the door to your room slammed open, and Tamlin growled. He seemed more beast than fae, mind lost in whatever this ritual had done to him. “Tamlin?”

Your voice shook him enough as he kneeled down in front if you, broad chest exposed and covered in swirling paint. “Y/n,” his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his eyes on your face. “Should have sent you back.” He was grounding out each syllable. “Fucking Rhysand.”

You felt it again, a harsh tug on your chest before warmth and dedication flowed into your body. You gasped at how close it felt and his eyes grew wide. “You can feel it?”

“Feel what? That tug?”

He nodded almost desperate as he lifted you out of the water and searched for something. He came back with your robe, wrapping you in it before trying to lead you somewhere. “Tamlin, where are we going?”

“The Cave.” His voice wasn't his own, but another tug came. That ancient echo spoke again, making you shiver.. “I won't allow this vessel to settle for less than his mate.”

His mate. You almost froze, making whatever held Tamlin's body stop and throw you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes, and feel,” it commanded as it walked you out the front door.

The cave was filled with the sounds of sex, the scent of magic, arousal, sweat. Tamlin laid you on a bed at the center of it, eyes blown with lust. You felt it then, that string binding your souls, holding you together like missing pieces to a puzzle. He was himself again now, looking down at you with hesitation. “I will let you go if you ask, little rose.”

Your body was humming, mind lost as your eyes began to water staring into his. “It's just mindless sex,” you repeated words you'd heard since Azriel's bond snapped. “It means nothing to you.”

Tamlin's brow knit, those green eyes aching with sorrow for you. “It means everything. You mean everything to me," and he crashed his lips down onto yours.

General Taglist:

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

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fo1ktale · 11 months ago

Text

Embers of Redemption

You didn’t know why he suddenly hated you. You had wracked you brain, ransacking memories and dissecting past conversations, but you still couldn’t figure it out. What had you done to garner such vehement disdain?

Your gaze remained fixed on him, he who was deliberately avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but at you. You took a sip of your wine, before returning to absentmindedly swirling the glass. Across the room, Azriel lounged, seemingly unaffected, yet an undeniable air of tension lingered. It was palpable to you and, undoubtedly, the entire Inner Circle sensed it.

As an archivist, you had to work closely with the leaders of the Night Court. Rhys’ father had been your employer for a long time, and that was how you met Rhys. The two of you were of similar age, and he admired your work ethic. Once Rhys had taken over his father’s rule, you joined the Inner Circle and governed beside them.

They were your family. Mor was the sister you never had, Rhys and Cassian were the annoying older brothers you couldn’t get rid of, and Amren was, well, Armen. Azriel however, he was special. You knew from the start that the Illyrian would change your life forever. He had stolen your heart, and you willingly surrendered it. Yet, his unwavering devotion to Mor couldn't escape your notice. You observed the way he looked at her, the care he extended. While to him, you were merely his best friend, to you, he meant everything.

Best friend— that was what you were. Through every trial, he stood by you, and you became his confidante. He shared his struggles, with his own identity, his relationships, and his stresses. You let him ramble on about Mor for decades, concealing the pain in your heart behind a sorrowful smile. You would have endured this indefinitely in a desperate attempt to know everything— anything about him.

One faithful day, he decided to get over Mor. You went with him, as the ever supportive best friend. You two had drunk your hearts out that night, downing shots after shots. You danced and you sang and you laughed like you never did before.

That night, he left with another woman, and your heart panged as you witnessed it.

His arm was casually slung over her shoulder as they walked out of the club. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled.

Sinking to your knees, without caring about what everyone else thought of you, you sobbed.

Getting over Mor didn’t make him realise that you were the one that stuck by him through everything. It had only gave him the freedom to find other females to fuck.

You had told yourself countless times to get over the unrequited love you felt for him. You went on dates and relished in the beauty of solitude, but it never worked. Everything led back to him.

When Rhys was trapped Under the Mountain, the two of you found solace in each other. There were many nights when insomnia got the better of you, and you would crawl into Azriel’s bed, where his mere presence would lull you to sleep. Other nights, nightmares would keep him awake, and you would hold him until he calmed down. Somedays, when the ache in your hearts felt a little to much to handle, you would go on walks in the forest, or even better, he would take you flying. Seeking comfort in each other became routine.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you believed that the bond between you two had evolved into something more than mere friendship. The thought brought joy, a glimmer of hope that you weren't just his best friend anymore.

Rhys’ return derailed every longing wish you nurtured. Azriel started pulling away from you. At first, you had chalked it up to the return of his brother, thinking that he wanted to spend more time with him to make up for fifty years of separation. However, more time passed, you found yourself fading from his life. He trained with Cassian, soared through the skies with Feyre, spent substantial amounts of time with Elain, and even confided in Nesta.

Nesta, who had previously been horrible to everyone, seemed to know more about Azriel’s current life than you did.

It became apparent that you have only been a distraction for him all those years; you meant nothing. Now, he had his new family, leaving you to be alone.

He truly hated you.

Tears welled up in your eyes. Your heart ached. You were lonely. So lonely. And Azriel hated you.

You couldn’t do it anymore. It became difficult to breathe. You needed air. Shooting up from your seat, the chair scratching against the floor as you made if out of the house through your hazy vision.

You stumbled through the city, finding an empty bench near a secluded part of the Sidra.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you hid your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely. Your cries echoed loudly, but in the midst of the agony in your chest, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Hands touched your shoulders gently and your head snapped up to meet the warm eyes of Cassian. His face was taut with concern and his lips moved, but you could not discern what he was saying. Everything felt muffled. The waves of the Sidra river fell deaf against your ears and your eyes only saw colours blurring together.

Sitting on the empty space beside you, you faintly felt as Cassian pulled you towards him, allowing you to curl up to his side. His hands rubbed your back as you released every bit of sadness and grief that was trapped in you. You didn’t know how long you two stayed there. It could’ve been minutes, or even hours, but Cassian didn’t relent. He stayed by your side until your tears dried up and soft sniffles were the only sound in the air.

“Why are you here?” Your voice rasped.

Cassian looked down at you, replying gently, “Because you’re family. You left in such a hurry, and were all worried for you. I think Az was about to rip his hair out of his scalp.”

You scoffed, “Sure he was.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Cassian’s question only intensified the horrible feeling in your chest. “We’ve all noticed that something was amiss, but we didn’t want to pry.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Cassian shook his head.

“He hates me,” you revealed, forcing your voice to be steady but failing miserably.

Cassian called out your name. “There is no world where Azriel would ever hate you.”

You glared, “We haven’t spent time together in months. He avoids sitting beside me at dinners, or gatherings, and he would much rather stand if the only seat that was free was the one next to me. He leaves the room when I enter. He rejects my every initiative to hang out. He ignores me when I talk to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even acknowledge that I exist. I don’t know what world you are living in, Cass, but in my world, he detests every fiber of my being.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, only lying back in quiet rumination.

“He hates me,” you whispered. “and I don’t know what to do because all I can think about is him. He means so much to me, and it hurts that I mean so little to him. I’m barely even a grain of sand in the ocean that is him.”

“I’ll be honest,” Cassian began. “I do not know what’s going on in Azriel’s mind. I won’t lie and say that I haven’t noticed him pushing you away. But there is nothing I can do or say to stop him. He is stubborn, and for some reason, he has his mind set on ignoring your existence.”

Cassian turned to face you, grabbing your hands in his, and implored, “But one thing I know for sure is that Azriel absolutely does not hate you. You are not a grain of sand; you are the whole fucking world to him. I‘m certain of it.”

“I want desperately to believe you,” you shook your head. “But I will not subject myself to pinning over him again.”

“You don’t have to. But please, don’t give up on him. Azriel doesn’t realise it, but he cannot live without you. You need to put some rationality in that stubborn brain of his.”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do,” you cried. “He hates me!”

All Cassian could offer was the solace of his embrace, using his words to provide any semblance of comfort. That night, he escorted you home, staying until he witnessed the dimming lights in your bedroom. A pang in his heart persisted, echoing the soft cries that still reached him as he ascended into the night sky, determined to confront his brother.

The door slammed open, revealing the formidable General of the Night Court’s armies in all his imposing might. He stormed across the room, standing before his brother who sat on the bed. Shadows enveloped every corner, but Cassian paid no heed. Snarling, he demanded, “Wake up, Azriel. Snap out of this senseless nightmare you're subjecting her to.”

Azriel didn’t flinch at Cassian’s tone. “Is she okay?”

“Is she okay?” Cassian laughed bitterly, devoid of humor. "You have eyes; see for yourself. Does she look okay? She hasn't been eating well! The dark circles under her eyes are practically permanent black holes now! Her entire demeanor has changed! She used to smile so much, Azriel! She would joke and laugh—fuck, I can't even remember the last time I heard her laugh!”

Cassian's lip curled as he regarded Azriel, shrouded in shadows, his shoulders slumped and hands wringing together. His hair draped over his eyes as his head hung low, gaze fixed on the ground.

Sadness washed over Cassian at the sight of his brother. He hadn't intended to hurt him, but he didn't know how else to make him stop.

“Do you know how hurt she is?” Cassian inquired softly. “I’ve never seen someone cry so much. She's convinced that you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her,” Azriel’s hands curled into fists.

"It certainly seems like you do. Why are you doing this? Why push her away when she means so much to you?”

“Because she deserves better!” Azriel's shout reverberated through the room. The two Illyrian soldiers paused for a moment, startled by the outburst.

More shadows moved, wrapping around Azriel's body, swirling in an attempt to offer comfort to their master.

“That is a stupid fucking reason, Azriel.”

Azriel didn’t say anything.

“Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

"I can't find happiness at the expense of hers.”

“Did it ever occur to you that being with you makes her happy? Do you know that she adores you? She looks at you like you hung every fucking star in the sky!” Cassian exclaimed.

Azriel shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “She would be better off without me.”

Cassian growled. “If you truly think that, then you are a coward, Azriel.”

Azriel found himself immersed in a sea of despair, where the shadows stretched like ravenous tendrils, hungrily lapping at the edges of his consciousness. The inky abyss enveloped him, its depths swallowing any remnants of light, leaving only the haunting echoes of his own tortured thoughts.

As he lay there, a mere fragment of his former self, the darkness embraced him like a suffocating shroud. The cold, clammy fingers of anguish reached out, coiling around his very soul, pulling him deeper into the abyss of his own despair. It was as if the void had become an extension of his being, an inescapable prison where his torment echoed endlessly.

In the icy blackness, Azriel surrendered, allowing the shadows to consume him with a twisted sense of acceptance. His mind echoed with the haunting refrain of despair, a symphony of hopelessness that drowned out any flicker of light that might have dared to defy the encroaching darkness.

Just take me, he pleaded silently to the void. There is nothing left for me. His voice, though unspoken, resonated within the cavernous expanse of his desolation. He felt the weight of the Stygian black pressing against his chest, stealing the very breath from his lungs as it fed on the remnants of his shattered spirit.

His vision became an endless expanse of nothingness, the boundaries between reality and the consuming shadows blurring into a chaotic dance of despair. Azriel's world was reduced to the spectral play of shadows, each one a manifestation of the pain etched into the fabric of his existence.

In this desolate realm, time lost its meaning, and Azriel became a mere silhouette adrift in the cosmic void. The shadows, now an extension of his suffering, moved with a malevolent purpose, wrapping around him like serpents, their tendrils tightening their grip on his very essence.

The echo of his own silent screams reverberated through the emptiness, a testament to the profound isolation that had become his reality. The blackness had not only consumed his surroundings but had become an integral part of him, a twisted symbiosis that left him drowning in the depths of his own anguish.

A faint glimmer of light appeared on the horizon. She, a beacon of hope and warmth, entered his desolate realm like a sunrise cutting through the long night. As Azriel lay ensnared by the suffocating shadows, he felt a gentle touch, a celestial force tugging at the tendrils of despair that gripped him.

The shadows recoiled, making way for the incandescent glow she emanated. The void, once absolute, now quivered in the face of her radiant light.

Azriel reached out to her, his fingers trembling in the frigid air.

With each step toward her, Azriel felt the weight of the shadows lifting, the oppressive darkness giving way to the delicate radiance she brought with her. The void, once an impenetrable fortress, now cracked and crumbled under the influence of her unwavering light.

She was his anchor, luring him from the abyss with a gentle yet unyielding force.

She was so close now, and Azriel leaped forward to grab her. But it was as if the very act of reaching out only pushed her farther away.

He was determined to bridge the gap that separated them. With every ounce of strength in his being, Azriel lunged forward, reaching for the figure before him. Her form shimmered like a mirage, teasing him with the illusion of proximity. His fingers grazed the wisps of her radiance, but she slipped through his grasp like threads of gossamer carried away by a gentle breeze.

Desperation etched across his face. Each attempt to seize her felt like an agonizing stretch, a test of endurance against the intangible. The void that had once consumed him now echoed with the sound of his yearning, the silence broken only by the echoes of his futile attempts.

She was just out of reach yet tantalizingly close. The intensity of his desire to hold onto the light that had become his salvation. But every leap, every outstretched hand, only propelled her further into the unreachable distance.

As Azriel relentlessly pursued the elusive figure of light, she suddenly appeared behind an unexpected barrier— a towering wall of fire, dancing with flickering flames that cast an ominous glow. A hushed gasp escaped him as the heat washed over him, and he felt the phantom sensation of the fire on his hands.

Frozen in hesitation, Azriel stared at the formidable barrier before him. The flames swirled and crackled, forming an impenetrable obstacle between him and the guiding light he so desperately sought. The radiant figure on the other side seemed to glow even more brilliantly, as if testing his resolve, waiting for him to make a choice.

The fear of the fire, both real and imagined, gripped Azriel. It whispered to him of pain and uncertainty, cautioning against taking the perilous step required to reach the one who held the key to his redemption. The scars of his past, etched deep into his soul, resurfaced as vivid memories, adding weight to the chains that bound him.

Yet, in the flickering shadows, realization slowly dawned upon Azriel. The fire was not a true barrier; it was a manifestation of his own fears, a reflection of the walls he had built within himself. He understood that the flames were not meant to harm him physically but rather represented the emotional hurdles he needed to overcome.

He looked at her, the guiding light, with newfound clarity. She stood patiently, her luminosity undiminished, her eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and encouragement. It was then that Azriel recognized the self-imposed limitations that had kept him in the shadows, a cowering fool unable to face his own fears and emotions.

In that moment of profound realization, Azriel understood that he had been punishing her for his own inadequacies, projecting his fears onto the external world. The flames were a metaphor for his inner turmoil, a manifestation of the barriers he had constructed to shield himself from vulnerability.

With a deep breath, Azriel took a step forward, the fire licking at the edges of his consciousness. The phantom warmth intensified, and his hands trembled as if about to be engulfed by the very flames he feared. Yet, he pressed on, determined to break free from the self-imposed chains.

He took the leap of faith, jumping toward the fire, letting it swallow him whole.

A desperate pounding echoed through your door, but it barely registered as you huddled in your sheets, staring at the ceiling above you in silent rumination. The aftermath of tears had left your eyes puffy, and throat scratchy, yet you welcomed the physical pain as a reprieve from the ache in your heart.

The relentless assault on your door continued, accompanied by frantic shouts of your name. The voice pierced through your contemplation, and you shot up, instantly recognizing it.

Azriel.

A stray shadow slithered up your arm, its cool touch and feather-like caresses sending shivers up your spine.

“Hello,” you whispered.

It tightened around your wrist, urging you to respond to the male at your door.

“But he hurts me,” you confessed, your voice cracking.

The shadow reacted wildly, darting around the room like a rabid creature. You chased after it as it slipped under the door, returning to its owner who continued knocking.

Your name came out of Azriel’s mouth like a plea. “Please open the door. We have to talk.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” you seethed. “I don’t have to do anything for you.”

“I know, but I have to try,” there was a rabid sort of desperation that laced his voice. “I have to try before I regret never fighting for you, for us.”

You ripped open your door, relishing in the way the Shadowsinger stumbled and stared at your bloodshot eyes.

“Us?” You spat. “There is no ‘us’, Azriel. You made sure of that when you ignored my presence everyday since Rhys returned.”

His attempt to explain was met with your anger. “You are truly cruel to have done that to me! To have led me on, treating me as if I were a child’s toy, being used for comfort. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You took advantage of me being vulnerable and used me as a distraction!”

Azriel recoiled. “No, that wasn’t the case at all. But I can’t believe you feel that way.”

“It wasn’t that difficult. Not when you spent every ounce of your energy set on making me feel like nothing to you.” A tear dribbled down your cheek and you hastily wiped it away, unaware that you had any more tears to cry.

“No, no, no, no,” His hand reached out to grab you but you flinched away. Seeing your rejection, he clenched his fist, jaw ticking. His head fell and he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You stayed silent.

“I’m so so so sorry for being such an idiot. And I have an explanation for it,” he sighed. “It isn’t a good one, but… I just…”

“Tell me,” you dared a look at him. His shoulders were slumped, eyes shining with unshed tears. His fists still clenched by his sides and shadows swirled widely around him. “Tell me what was so important that you treated me that way.”

“I was scared,” he mumbled. “I projected my fears on to you, and convinced myself that it would be better to stay away…”

His eyes shut, as if his next words hurt him.

“You are everything to me. Next to you, I am just a speck of dust. How could I ever compare to you? How could I ever be worthy of you? I knew that, and you would have rejected me for it. So I ran. I ran from the inevitable rejection that you would offer me instead of being truthful. But I am being truthful now. I… I have feelings for you.”

You fixated on him with an incredulous stare, your mouth hanging open, and your eyes widened to the point of bulging. The turbulent events of the night had left you in a state of disarray, questioning the boundaries between reality and illusion. The disbelief lingered, casting a surreal hue over the moment, as if you were trapped in a waking dream, uncertain if the scene playing out before you was tangible or a mere figment of your imagination.

You lifted your finger, reaching out towards the Illyrian male in front of you. Then, you poked him.

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you poked his cheek a second time. He called out your name. “What’s going on?”

“Is this real?” You breathed deeply. “You like me?”

“Why?”

“I like you too, dumbass,” you poked him a little harder this time. “You stupid, insufferable, crazy boy! What are you even talking about? What is this nonsense about you being unworthy? Do you really think that way? Is that why you distanced yourself for so long?”

Hazel eyes looked into yours and a smile appeared on Azriel’s face. He didn’t seem to hear the latter part of what you said, only repeating, “You like me too?”

“Why the fuck else would I care so much that you were ignoring me?” you retorted, breaking the tension with a mix of exasperation and affection.

Azriel's smile grew wider, and a genuine happiness radiated from him. The shadows around him seemed to dance with joy, mirroring the newfound light in his eyes. He took a step closer, cautiously, as if afraid you might change your mind.

"I thought I ruined everything," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his voice. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I didn't know how to handle it."

As you locked eyes with him, a subtle transformation swept over your emotions. The initial flame of anger, fueled by the hurt and betrayal, began to wane. In its place, a newfound understanding blossomed, ignited by the sincerity that radiated from Azriel's gaze. His eyes, once a source of frustration, now mirrored a depth of earnestness that stirred something within you.

The recognition of sincerity and the unraveling of the pain created an opening, a crack in the emotional shield you had put up in self-defense. Amidst the crumbling walls, a glimmer of possibility emerged. The realization dawned that, just maybe, there was a chance for understanding and healing.

Azriel reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "I messed up, but I want to make it right. I want to be there for you, to be more than just a friend."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but this time it was different— it was a comforting shiver, a connection forming between two souls. The shadows around you seemed to intertwine, creating a tapestry of emotions that spoke of forgiveness and acceptance.

"I'm willing to give it a try," you said, your voice softer now. "But no more running, no more hiding. We face whatever comes together."

Azriel nodded, relief washing over him. The two of you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of understanding and the possibility of something new.

As you allowed him into your space, the shadows now embraced you both, merging into a unified dance. The pain of the past began to transform into a shared strength, a foundation upon which a new beginning could be built.

And so, you and Azriel embarked on a journey together, navigating the complexities of your feelings and the challenges ahead. The door, once a barrier between you, now stood open, a symbol of the willingness to face the unknown hand in hand.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfic

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violetasteracademic · 4 months ago

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So, considering the fact that your theories and your thoughts always make me want to jump up and down like a kid,I wanted to know your thoughts on this. I don't know if you've seen that pic in sjm's Pinterest board of a woman with a rose tatto which I believe was saved as "Elain". And we know that both Feysand and Nessian had their own bargain which makes me believe elriel will have one too,most accurately a rose tatto on both of them. And I wanted to ask you what do you think Elain and Az's bargain will be about?

First and foremost, thank you for making me *blush*

And now, ooooOOOoooh the bargain! I have thoughts!! And they are whimsical and magical and very inspired by SJM's confirmed fairy-tale retellings.

If you are not caught up on my line of thinking and predictions for the next ACOTAR book, I *think* my most comprehensive post on that can be found here. I'm very lasered in on the possible alliance between Vallahan and the High Priestesses, the Snow Queen, and reverse sleeping beauty (or Glass Coffin, the original German fairy tale sleeping beauty is based off of which is what SJM has used in the books. More on that here.)

Now, while Elain and Azriel's bargain could literally be anything, I'm less focused on what specifically it is and more on what it will do for their story and plot.

Feysand has obviously had two major bargains, and they drove the plot forward in different ways. Bargain one: a commitment for Feyre and Rhys to spend time together. This obviously dramatically moved the plot forward in ACOMAF and magically connected Rhys and Feyre, thus giving them the opportunity to get to know each other and give Feyre time away from Tamlin and out of her situation.

Bargain two, to die together. This clearly creates a tremendous amount of plot, action, and conflict for ACOSF.

Nesta and Cassian's bargain is way more simple on the surface. Training in exchange for a favor. In this case, it isn't the bargain itself that drives the plot and creates conflict, but the favor. Cassian is put in a situation where he is bound by magic and forced away from Nesta, leaving her and her friends in a little cluster to be easily kidnapped for the Blood Rite. Whereas Feysand's bargain created danger due to their unwillingness to be apart after the pain of watching each other die, Nessian's bargain created danger by pressing a thumb on the deepest wound of Nesta's struggles with pushing Cassian away.

Whatever Elain and Azriel's bargain is, I sense it will thematically play on their experiences and relationship just as Nessian and Feysand's did, but it also needs to drive the plot forward.

Because I am a big believer in the reverse Sleeping Beauty/Glass Coffin wherein Azriel is the one kidnapped or put to sleep and Elain will be the one to save him, I would love to see their bargain allow them to supersede the magic that has been keeping them apart and be the thread that allows Elain to find Azriel no matter what.

My dear friend @elainemg97 is the one who opened my eyes to the Snow Queen fairytale (click the first theory link I shared here to see why that is relevant! It is a confirmed retelling SJM has been planning since signing on the spinoffs.) It's actually so wild how relevant this is to the possibility of a reverse Sleeping Beauty.

The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Anderson is a story about a boy and a girl named Kai and Gerda. They love each other deeply, are childhood best friends and grew up together playing in their families gardens and rose boxes. Then one day Kai is taken by the Snow Queen:

The Snow Queen, for whatever reason, luring Kai to her, beckoning him through snow frosted windows and snowflakes:

Kai becomes lost to splinters of a troll mirror, which turns him cruel and evil. His kind spirit is replaced someone hateful, and he hurts Gerda deeply by insulting her and treating her poorly. The Snow Queen succeeds in securing him, and the village presumes him dead. Gerda does not believe he is dead and in setting out to beg the river for him back, she becomes unmoored and drifts into unfamiliar waters and lands.

The Snow Queen kisses Kai, and Kai forgets bout Gerda.

The sorceress wipes Gerda's memory of Kai, and she causes the rose gardens to disappear, because the sorceress knows that if Gerda sees the roses, she will remember him.

Gerda remembers Kai regardless, despite the magic keeping them apart, and her tears cause the roses to bloom once again. Gerda knows that Kai is alive and she must find him.

The story of Gerda and Kai is one of hope, resilience, and roses. Gerda does not forget the boy she was spelled to forget, and she does not believe his cruelty was his true heart. The roses help her remember, they give her hope, and she sets off on a journey to save Kai from the Snow Queen. And then there is this:

Kai is saved by power of Gerda's love when she kisses him.

I feel like the imagery of roses and blades have been so pointedly woven through Azriel and Elain's story, as well as magic keeping them apart. This is major crack theory, but I think we might discover the Snow Queen in Vallahan is a bit of a Maeve like villain. Vallahan is described as ancient and being both on Prythian's side and against Prythian's side throughout history. This gives me the sense that Vallahan has one goal: to retain power. They ally themselves wherever that best suits them, and keep their motives shrouded in mystery.

I think ACOSF revealed that Koschei wants Azriel. Whether the Snow Queen of Vallahan is working with or against Koschei, she will want him too. Perhaps it is because of his blade. Perhaps his heritage. But it is most likely that Azriel will be captured. It's possible he will be presumed dead, or behave out of character.

Elain will believe in him. She will the remember the roses, his goodness, the time they spent together in the garden just as Kai and Gerda. And despite all the magical forces keeping them apart, trying to make them to forget each other, Elain will not forget him, and she will find and free him.

I think it would be really interesting and beautiful to see Elain and Azriel's bargain be something seemingly small and unimportant, like promising to think of each other when they see a garden or a rose. Or a bargain to find each other when they are lost, no matter what. I love the idea of their bargain being the thread that leads them to each other. That helps Elain find him, instead of being the thing that puts them in danger.

Thematically, magic and bonds have been the thing keeping Azriel and Elain apart in a way that wasn't true for Feysand and Nesssian. I would love to see their bargain, their choice, be the bond that leads them to each other even when all hope seems lost.

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel theories #elain and azriel #elriel x snow queen #elriel x sleeping beauty

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nikachansstuff · 6 months ago

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Call me old fashion but every display of “I must protect her!” shown by male towards his female interest gets me going

I’m a lady with simple tastes. So antis can go all over saying Azriel not supporting Elain’s being involved into scrying for the troves shows he doesn’t respect her? I’m living for it. I’m here having my dopamine kick, cheering Az in the background and saying “yeah, protect your woman, my guy!”

Display of protection is not disrespectful, my loves.

Let’s go over this, ok?

Elain doesn’t have proper training yet, she is not in tune with her powers as she stated previously, making her vulnerable;

Elain was the one who feel for the Cauldron’s call, resulting in her kidnapping and being chained. Azriel was the one who saved her, he saw all of it happening, the mortal risk they both faced it. Can you blame him for being a bit traumatized?

Azriel wanting to protect Elain from danger just shows how unique his reaction to her is. Imagine? Verbalizing “nu huh, not my woman!” in front of the IC? This chill and poker face dude putting a foot down? Please, give me more!

Now, don’t be jelly if Azriel doesn’t show worry or act all alpha male protector towards your preferred fanon pair. Go back to sparkling pneumonia and dancing shadows, and let the fae male be a fae male towards his romantic interest.

#elriel #pro elriel #anti gwynriel

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lovemyromance · 9 months ago

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Azriel: <just doing his job in Sangravanah, angry to see another woman violated>

Gwynriels: omg mate behavior

Azriel: <Saved Gwyn from two Hybern soldiers and passed her off to Mor, who carried her out>

Gwynriels: omg he carried her to safety

Azriel: <goes against orders to save Elain from Hybern's camp, won't let go of Elain despite his shredded wings, demands to get the chains off her>

Gwynriels: Feyre saved Elain, not Azriel. And Elain didn't even care about Azriel

Azriel: <is willing to get on his knees for Elain>

Gwynriels: omg incel

2 pages later

Azriel: Helps a priestess train when he was trying to be alone but ran into her by accident

Gwynriels: something sparked in his chest, they are mates how romantic

Cassian: <going feral and numb with worry when Nesta gets taken for the BR>

Azriel: they'll be fine. You know who we need to save though? ERIS

Gwynriels: it's because he trusts that they're capable and that's shows mate behavior duh

Which is it? Either the supposed bond between them snapped when he saved Gwyn or it didn't.

Either it snapped when something "sparked in his chest" or it didn't.

Either he's an incel or he's not?

You can't have it both ways. People don't change within TWO PAGES. He cannot be an incel with Elain and then magically reformed with Gwyn on the next page.

It just doesn't make sense that Gwyn is supposed to be his mate. He's seen her in a traumatic situation, and the bond didn't snap. He trained the priestesses every day, and the bond didn't snap. She got taken -similar to Elain- and the bond didn't snap. So tell me, don't you think if this theory were true, this 500 yr old Spymaster would know she is his mate by then? Especially if the antis believe all he wants is a mate anyways?

Let's be logical now.

Azriel is literally the most protective/respectful of the bat boys. You're telling me he found his mate (that he's been so desperate for apparently) and when she gets taken to the BR he just - what? Doesn't react at all?

You want mate behavior? Look at Cassian. He has more reason than Azriel to believe the girls are trained well they should trust in that, since he was their instructor from the beginning. And yet, he's going crazy because that's his mate. Azriel does not react that way at all in this scenario ...

... but he does when Elain gets taken.

Arguably, that's the only time we've seen such a reaction from him on the page.

Gwynriels stay contradicting themselves with each new argument. Honestly, just pick a struggle 😒 How are you out here claiming Azriel and Gwyn are mates, Az is an incel, and Azriel doesn't care about Elain all in one breath?

#elriel #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #pro elain #elain x azriel #elain #antigwynriel

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bonecarversbestie · 6 months ago

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It seems like the Inner Circle has a "wait and see if it magically gets better" approach when it comes to the Archeron’s mental health.

I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Feyre came to them when she was at her lowest and being around them made her better because she was with her mate, she was training, she had friends who gave her power and that was exactly what Feyre was looking for.

And that was great for Feyre, but it seems the IC and Feyre expect this same tactic to apply to her sisters too, and they become either resentful or complacent when it doesn’t.

Winter solstice is a good example of this. Feyre paid Nesta to come to a holiday that she did not want to attend. Nesta attended and was polite, sat quietly, thanked her sister for her presents and left, and everyone acted like she was so rude and that she's stubbornly refusing to get over what happened in the war. I think that bias comes from that scene being written in Feyre's POV. Feyre is a character without much empathy. She simply doesn't understand why being around her precious Inner Circle isn't magically healing Nesta like it did for her.

This goes for Elain, too. In ACOWAR when it was clear Elain was suffering, who tried to help her before Lucien got there? The IC seemed to decide not to try and do anything with Elain and Nesta until Feyre got there to tell them what to do. And when Elain started to do better, they kinda just forgot about her trauma. Like they assumed she was healed just because she has an easy life in Velaris amongst the ✨IC✨💕.

You could also argue that Feyre didn’t heal in Spring for related reasons. Tamlin clearly wanted very badly to help Feyre, but none of his attempts were working and it made him neglectful and short tempered. But truthfully, I’m not sure there was ever much he could have done to help Feyre. He could have done better than he did, don’t get me wrong, but I think he’s often given credit for damage caused by Amarantha and Feyre needed her Mate and new home and new family to heal, and Tam could never be that.

And isn’t that kinda the pattern that SJM is following? Woman finds her mate and found family and they help her heal? For Feyre, it was Rhys and the IC and for Nesta it was Cassian (kinda 🙄) and the Valkyries. I have no doubt it will be the same for Elain. Lucien will undoubtedly be the only one who bothers to notice she’s still suffering and she will find healing with him and her own found family (whoever they may be).

It is mentioned several times that the Archerons were never a close family. I think they were always destined to go their own separate ways in the end.

#elain archeron #nesta archeron #Feyre archeron #pro elain #pro nesta #feyre critical #anti ic #ic critical #feysand #nessian #elucien #feylin #tamlin acotar

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feyresdandelion · 6 months ago

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A lot of people in this fandom want to be soo feminist that they end up being misogynistic. Elain is the perfect example.

It isn’t a secret that popularly we have had a lot of female protagonists (almost always written by men) who need rescuing, are stupid and obviously made to make the main male character look heroic and capable. So I think it’s fair that women would start asking for more badass main characters and, luckily, now almost every single fmc is a warrior and capable and a badass.

But now, when a female character isn’t shown to be a warrior or a badass or is shown to be gentler and kinder and quieter, it suddenly becomes a problem. In the need for more physically strong female characters people have developed a hatred for female characters who are more traditionally feminine.

It’s the same as with the color pink. Since we are children we are taught that pink is for girls and blue is for boys so we try to step away from gender roles by hating femininity (but God forbid we hate masculinity) therefore furthering misogyny.

It’s bad being traditionally feminine because femininity is bad. It’s good being traditionally masculine because masculinity is good.

Being a woman is bad. Being a man is good.

And thus Elain gets hated on because of misogynistic reasons. She is too feminine and not enough masculine and she furthers patriarcal norms even though she’s just existing and being herself.

Feminism is letting a woman choose how she chooses to show her masculinity and femininity. Being a feminist means you don’t judge stay at home moms or lawyers or models or doctors.

Feminism is about choice. Is about dismantling systems that have been existed for centuries that have taken away women’s choice. Is about letting a woman choose if she wants to be a mother or remain child free. Is about letting a woman decide is she wants to work or not work. If she wants to bake or to train. If she wants to garden or to rule.

When your feminism starts taking away someone’s choice, you are doing the same exact thing patriarchy has done for millennia: forcing women into a box. And that’s just as asphyxiating.

Let women be.

#pro elain archeron #pro elain

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utterlyotterlyx · 6 months ago

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Thirteen

Summary - A Queen is born.

Warnings - depression, torture, ptsd, fluff, the found family *crying*, sadness, some mentions of death

*Not fully proof read so don’t come at me 🥺

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Eris couldn't sleep.

The first night he had take you to bed, he had expected to be up all hours of the night comforting you, convinced that what had happened to you would wrap around your mind and continue to torture you. But you had slept peacefully.

Soft snores sounded from your lips, your eyes were closed, and not even for a moment did a flash of pain rip across your angelic features.

Nesta had suggested that it must have been the exhaustion, that after the adrenaline had worn off, all that was left inside of you was a pit of weariness that would never be satiated.

So they all stayed awake, waiting for the moment when your withered soul would let in the pain, and part of Eris hoped for it despite knowing how awful it sounded. He just wanted you to feel safe, to get better, and he knew better than anyone that the road of healing came with a steep price attached to it.

Four days passed. Four days of a quiet manor, so quiet because none of them wanted to wake you or move you from the place you had found comfort in. Lucien had taken over Eris' position so that he could stretch his legs per Nesta's orders, bundled under the thick sheets with your head resting on his chest and hand idly lay across his stomach. Lucien would take that opportunity to pick up where Eris had left off from the book he had left splayed on the table beside the bed, speaking with a low and dreamful voice, willing some serenity to find you wherever you had wandered.

Elain and Nesta would often spend their days in the same room, peering at your sleeping form from the seating area whilst trying to busy their own minds. Nesta was busy writing to Feyre, unsure if she could ever write to Cassian, and Elain would read one of her gardening or cook books, noting down the recipes she'd think you'd love once the idea of food made you smile again.

It was the fifth night that made Eris snatch back his hope.

None of them had heard a scream like it, strangled and raw, your limbs thrashed under the covers and Eris had to wind you into his embrace so that you wouldn't hurt yourself. His heart strained in his chest as you cried, no, begged Rhys to stop, to set you free, that you'd do anything to make things right.

The door opened, and Nesta lingered in the entryway, eyes rounded as she took in the scene before her, your pallid skin glistening with tears and sweat, and Eris trying to pull you from whatever it was you were seeing with his own eyes pooling with desperation and lips wobbling with every lovely word he spoke, with every long stroke he ran through your hair.

Before she could fully register the movement, you bolted upright, eyes wide and wild and snapping to every corner of the room whilst your breath laboured in your throat. There was no y/n within the woman she was staring it, just a terrified female haunted by what she had faced. Your fingers shook, and you grasped the collar around your neck, trying to scratch beneath it to rip it from your skin.

Eris had little choice but to snatch your hands before they tore your skin to shreds, but you wouldn't look at him, no, your eyes were trained at the dark spot in the corner of the room. Eris opened your palms and pulled them to his heart, so that you could feel his heartbeat pull you back to the present, "I'm here, Little Fawn. Feel me. I'm right here," his voice wavered, his gaze snapped to Nesta's, and they were equally as afraid as the other.

The gentle thumps against your palm were enough to draw your attention away, you looked down at the dampened sheets and followed the line down your arm to where your hand rested, then your glanced up at his beautiful face riddled with worry, "You're home. Rhys will never be able to hurt you again, alright?" Eris faced you, his legs at either side of your hips, and he leaned forward to press his lips into your brow.

Eris' breath fanned over your face, like an autumn breeze signalling the end of summer, and he lowered his eyes to find yours.

It was a sweet action, one that made Nesta smile softly from her place in the doorway, but the smile was short lived. You moved from the bed, hand clasped over you mouth and other pressed into your abdomen as you headed to the bathroom with Nesta following quickly in tow before Eris could even properly rise from the sheets.

Nesta, knowing what was about to happen, rushed to your side to pull your hair from your shoulders, rubbing gentle circles into your back and acting as a pillar for your lack of strength so that you could lower to the ground safely and empty the barely there contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. A soft breathless groan sounded from your lips and you threw your head back, sniffling and wiping your eyes from the sting of your tears. You looked to her, bottom lip shaking and begged, "Please."

With a sigh, she rose to her feet and closed the door, mouthing a small sorry to Eris just as the door clicked to a close.

Not needing to peer to his side to see who was stood beside him, Eris spoke, "Tell Helion to come as fast as he can."

A beat of silence coursed between Eris and his companion, "Are you sure?" Lucien asked. The thought of you being in any form of pain was enough to make him feel ill, but the pain that would sink within you at the hands of Helion's mercy threatened to curse his soul, no matter if it was helpful or not, he knew what awaited you.

"No," Eris bit back his sob and turned to Lucien, and the latter felt uneased by the fire burning within Eris' orbs, "She'll claw at them until they're off or until she slices through her own throat. Get him."

Lucien did not envy his brother, not one bit. He saw the exhaustion on his face, the worry that the love of his life wouldn't be the same, the love that Eris was sure he would never have, and the fear that her light had been stripped from her soul. It wouldn't surprise him if Eris spent the rest of his days attempting to restore even an ounce of it, it wouldn't surprise him if Eris gave up his title to ensure he could dedicate every moment to it.

Though, Lucien knew that deep down you would never allow Eris to do such a thing, and all they could hope for was that someday your light would return in whatever way it could.

So, Lucien didn't argue with his brother. Instead, he lay a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed ever so softly to let him know that he was there and listening, that he was there to help before dropping his arm and exiting the room to do as Eris wished, leaving his brother stood alone atop the rug with ragged hair and eyes staring ahead at the door you had pleaded Nesta to hide you with.

The breeze rustled the leaves of the tree craning over the window, it was almost as if the branches had drooped slightly so that they may be able to keep an eye on you, to fill your silence with something other than your thoughts.

Unable to lay in the bed, you found a spot at the edge of the deep set love seat, resting against the arm and back with a thick cushion wedged behind you and a blanket draped over your figure that was drowning in one of Eris' shirts. You had sat there long enough to see the sun rise and set, to see the sky turn from blue to orange and nearing black, and you faintly counted the stars in the sky as they appeared.

Candles illuminated the room, Nesta had made sure to enter the chamber like clockwork to make sure that you were comfortable and warm, and had enough light so that you may read if you wished to. She also reminded you that Eris wanted to see you, asking if it would be alright if he came to sit with you for a minute, but you always wordlessly shook your head to the notion, you were ashamed that you weren't the woman he remembered you to be, that you were a small broken fawn caught in the trap of her own mind and decaying right before their very eyes.

Nesta crouched beside you, taking your cold hand in her own and reaching to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Someone else wishes to see you," you moved your head an inch to the side but didn't look to her, you were too enthralled with the stars to tear your eyes away, "Helion is here. He knows how to take these away," her fingers drifted along the hem of the cuff on your wrist, and when she looked up she found your darkened eyes, resembling coal and decaying embers rather than their usual violet and fire, staring right back at her, "If you'll let him try."

It wasn't clear if you knew that they knew of the demon living within you, and if you did then you hadn't let on to it. Nesta's nerves heightened at the silence, "Will you? Let him try?"

"Yes."

"Can I bring him in?"

"Yes."

Nesta muttered a small alright and rose from her position, caressing your cheek for a moment before crossing the room and opening the door, speaking in a soft whisper and allowing a draft to pass through the entry which signalled Helion's arrival and her leave.

Footsteps sounded against the floor, his shadow stretched over your curled up form on the seat, and he hesitated for a moment, seemingly trying to deduce where the right place to be was. Helion settled on taking the empty seat before you, his sun-loved skin glowing in the candlelight and his arm resting along the back of the seat, fingers just above grazing the curve of your knee.

Helion drank in your appearance, now understanding what Eris and Lucien had warned him of, and did his best to hide his horror at your pale skin and lifeless eyes, at your thinness and the bones sickly protruding from your flesh. Then his amber orbs found the black veins skittering over your skin like lightening bolts, seeping from the stone collar and cuffs, creeping to consume your entire body.

"I take it that you know what she did?" You spoke softly, moving your gaze away to the window to acknowledge him, and his face said it all, "If you know, then I suppose they do too?" Helion nodded slowly after you tilted your head backward, like you knew exactly who was lingering behind the closed door. "And you can rid me of her, and of these?" Helion watched as you shakily raised your limbs, the faint dangerous hum of the stone encased around you sounding, like a mother soothing a babe, though the stone was no mother and you no babe. It was as though they were trying to deter you, like they had their own mind and consciousness and knew that they were in a rather precarious position.

"I can," you hummed at his words, "But you must know that it will hurt, and we cannot do it here."

"Because all of the power contained with the stones will pour back into my body and the results could be catastrophic," Helion inhaled sharply at what you already knew, he often forgot just how knowledgeable you were, and it was his fault for underestimating you.

There was a real chance that the entire court could perish if Helion were to do it within Fir Manor, that if when the power flowed back through your veins that the earth would splinter and swallow whatever it saw fit as penance for the crimes committed against you. He had to take you far away enough where the damage to the continent would be minimal, and luckily enough for the both of you, Tarquin had offered a small island a few miles off the coast of the Summer Court for the task. It was uninhabited and not seen through the naked eye, so it wouldn't exactly be missed.

Helion told you of his plan, in intricate detail as you asked, if he was going to tear your flesh to pieces then you wanted to know how, you wanted to know every step. When he was done explaining it, how he would have to carve your back open to retrieve the stone, and how exactly he would have to submit you to the worst of pains to free you of the stone collars, you felt your stomach churn.

"Eris will have to be present. He is your Carranam, his power is the key of unbinding you from the stones," he noted your shiver and shuffled closer to you, resting a hand on your quaking knee, "I know that you don't wish him to see you like this, or in any pain, but this is the only way, y/n. Eris loves you, you have changed him from a male to fear into a male to admire, he wishes to help you. Let him."

"I'm not the woman he fell in love with."

"You are his mate. There is no world where he wouldn't love you, no circumstance where he would ever turn his back on you," his thumb soothed over your bones and he saw a wall crumble behind your eyes, "You left this court to save them, to save your family from what Rhys may have inflicted upon them. But you seem to forget that they also chose you, over everything, they chose you and they always will. None of that has changed, my dear."

It was on the tip of your tongue, and you couldn't stop the question from sounding, "What happened to him that day in Spring?"

"Feyre unleashed the power of us all upon him. Between that and the fury of Cassian and Azriel, and Mor and Amren, he didn't stand a chance. Rhys is now confined to the Prison. Amren thought it would be suiting after all he inflicted upon you."

Rhys in the Prison. Something about it didn't sit very well within you at all. Flashes of darkness and loneliness crept into your mind, and you did your best to push them back to where they came from, you told yourself that he deserved it, but you couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for him.

"And the Night Court? What happens to it now?"

Helion became aware of the fact that the interaction was probably the most you had spoken since you had returned, Helion had always had an odd way of getting you to speak when you didn't particularly want to. There was something comforting about his aura that always had you feeling seen and heard, and he was using that same aura on you now.

"It is to be decided. A date is to be set for Rhys' trial, that is when the fate of the Night Court will also come to light," Helion smiled thinly and reached to entwine his fingers with your own, "We can speak of this later, and I will welcome your input. But for now, we need to free you of these stones."

With a shaky exhale, you rose to your feet, the blanket slipping from your lap and exposing your legs that were partly hidden by the hem of Eris' shirt kissing your thighs. "Give me a few moments. I'll be down soon," you didn't wait for his reply before disappearing into the bathroom, grasping a dress from it hanger along the way and beginning to pull the shirt from you body.

Helion sat in silence for a moment, gathering his thoughts and mentally preparing himself for what was to come before he rose and smoothed the creases from the briefs of his tunic, glancing back toward the closed door on his leave.

It only took a few minutes for you to appear. A night-blue dress hung from your shoulders that were graced with a cream coat with frilled arms which dragged along the floor behind you, the riding boots that Eris had gifted to you what felt like an eon ago slithering up your calves, and hair brushed back and pulled into a loose braid that sat atop a bed of unbound waves with whisps that framed your sharpened features perfectly.

All eyes were on you as you paced across the room from the bottom of the stairs, halting before Helion. Eris rose to his feet, heart pounding in his chest at the fear laced within your eyes, and he glanced to Nesta and Lucien, the only two people he would allow to journey to the island alongside himself and Helion, who wore the same worry on their faces.

"Let's just get this over with," you winced when you rolled your shoulders, that all too familiar pain writhing beneath your skin telling you that the queen was struggling to keep a hold of you, "I'm ready."

Helion nodded stiffly, extending his arm behind you to lead you out to the cobbled path of Fir Manor. The breeze danced through your hair in greeting, the leaves from the ground tumbling toward your feet, and you slid your hand into the one offered to you by Helion. Within moments the Autumn Court pulled from your focus and twisted into black, and then you were covering your eyes from the unobstructed moonlight beaming down on you.

Crashing waves sounded, and you slowly turned in a full circle, seeing nothing book onyx waves lapping onto the shore of the small island where you stood. A small tent had been erected to your left, the doors flapping in the salted breeze, allowing a small glimpse at what was waiting for you. A long wooden table. An assortment of knives. Pales of water. Fire.

"We can wait. We can wait until you're strong enough, we don't have to do this now," Lucien grasped your arm and turned you to face him, eyes pleading as they darted from you to the tent and then back.

Blinking up at him, you smiled softly, "The longer we wait the weaker I become," you raised your fingers to his cheek, drifting them along his cheekbone, "It has to be now. I know that you know of what dwells inside of me, Lucien. It has to end."

"You could die, y/n."

"So be it. At least I'll finally be free then."

Lucien turned to Eris the moment you pulled away from him, approaching the tent in which Helion had slipped into only moments before, "Stop her," Lucien seethed, pacing to his brother so that they stood nose to nose, "Your mate could die in there. Stop her."

"I'll never stop her from doing what it is she wants to do, Lucien," Eris loosed a breath, he was terrified but he understood the freedom the night could offer, even if it mean death would greet you far too soon, "Either be here and help her, or go back to Elain."

Eris rounded his brother, following after you as fast as he possibly could, leaving Lucien and Nesta on the sand, "I don't like it either. But Helion wouldn't propose it if he wasn't sure that she would survive. She needs us and our strength, Lucien. If you don't want to be in there then we will understand and so will she, but I will not abandon my sister at her final stand. Ever. I suggest you follow suit."

The demeanour of cold was understandable, Nesta had left everything behind to follow you in a life of the unknown, unable to stand by and wait until Rhys moved against you. Nesta had always adored you in her own peculiar manner, Lucien often spied her lurking outside of your room since you returned, ready to tend to you if you asked for her and ready to wait until that moment came. It reminded Lucien of the bond he once shared with Tamlin, an unwavering loyalty, a bond broken by his own demise, but Lucien was sure that your bond with each of them would never falter, not even in the face of your darkness.

So, Lucien inhaled deeply and turned to follow Nesta who had already began pacing away from him and toward the dancing curtains of the tent, he followed suit and dipped into the opening and his stomach became uneasy at what was before him.

Eris was stood before you, caressing small circles into your forearms, talking in a low voice to you, only loud enough for you to hear. Your coat was discarded on the back of a nearby chair, and Lucien could count each one of your vertebrae if he so wished it, but instead he decided to focus on the small square poking from beneath your skin. It was the first time he had seen the stone, a perfect square embedded at the apex of your crescent moon scar that your lack of nourishment made clear for all to see.

It was strange how a stone no bigger than his thumb could cause you so much torment.

There was a shadow around you, it was dense, dragging you down into the pits of hell. But you had danced with the devil for far too long to allow it to succeed.

The table beckoned you and you moved to it, your now bare feet scuffing along the ground as you approached it, your fingers dragging along the smooth tabletop. Inhaling deeply, your gaze flickered to Helion, and you turned, perching on the wood and moving your body so that you lay face down with you back facing upward to the thin cloth of the tent.

"You'll need to hold her down," Helion called, and Lucien was too entranced by your movements to recognise that Helion was talking to him. The High Lord of Day took a tentative step forward, "We can't give her any pain relief, it'll dull her senses, and she needs them for what's next."

Lucien looked back to you, seeing that Eris had fallen to his knees before your face and taken your hand in his and brought it to his lips, "Everything is going to be alright," he repeated the sentiment over and over, and Lucien realised in that moment that if the roles were switched and it were Elain laying upon that table, that Lucien would do all in his power to free her from her pain.

Moving to your side, Lucien lay his palm on your shoulder and applied a little pressure, using his weight to test how much strength he'd need to use, which turned out to be not much at all.

"Are you ready?"

Wordlessly, you closed your eyes and nodded, the muscles in your back tensed the moment Helion brought a knife to the exact place he knew he needed to cut into to make it as quick as possible.

Helion pushed down on the knife, letting it tear through each layer of your skin, and you began to strain in Lucien's grip, your body jolting and groans sounding from your lips. Reopening a scar was a painful thing, the marred tissue contorted and wept tears of blood whilst a scream ripped from your lungs, but Helion couldn't stop, Eris had forbidden it.

"Please, stop," your sobs pleaded but your voice had betrayed you, it was combined with the voice of another, coaxing like a siren, low and sultry, "I'll die. You're going to kill me. Please."

A strength Lucien didn't know you possessed coursed through your limbs and you thrashed, inhuman grunts pooling from your broken lips and head snapping around wildly. The candlelight flickered in the speeding winds that were circling the tent, the darkness falling from you in waves and seeping into the sand below. "We do love the darkness. So much," the distorted voice spoke, "I'll make her rip you apart, Lord of Autumn. Then perhaps she'll beg me to join you."

Lucien had all of his weight splayed on top of you, holding your body in place, and Nesta had moved to your shoulder, using her hands to keep it still so that Helion could continue, and he did, but much quicker until the stone was gleaming in your blood and peering up at them. Swirls of a soul danced beneath the surface of it, like the rising smoke of a roaring fire.

"I am the one who makes her a queen. I am the one who gives her the power she wields. Without me, she is nothing."

Eris snarled, lowering his face to yours, or well, the demon who had come to the light, and spoke, "My mate is the most powerful being in any universe, and she was that way long before you were ever lay within her. Your reign is over. My queen ensures it."

Before the demon could spew any matter of vile words, Helion cut deep within the muscle that the stone had melted into and used his fingers to rip it out, holding it in the palm of his hand and feeling the darkness writhe in the face of his light. Helion threw the stone to Nesta who amply locked it within an onyx stone box, the same stone that wound around your neck, and placed it on the table beside his tools.

"Get off of her," Eris ordered, your body had fallen limp, and soft whimpers passed through you whilst Helion did his best work to heal the wound.

You felt every strand of her darkness retreat from your veins, pulling and tugging at your essence on their way out as though they were clutching onto you and begging you to allow them to stay. The relief that washed over you was immeasurable, it was like you had spent the last eon in darkness and were gifted a speckle of sunlight. Pure and adoring light that had found you once more.

As though it had never happened, Helion closed the wound, the only reminder that she had been there being the striking ache in your bones.

"Give her a moment," Eris spoke sternly, knowing that they couldn't wait too long, the adrenaline in your blood was providing you the strength you needed for the next step. He moved to your side, offering his strength to sit you upright and knelt at your feet, wiping his tears with your thumb, "I know that it hurts," your darkened eyes found his and your bottom lip quaked softly, "But have been to the depths of hell and waltzed with the darkness, you have kept strengths in conditions where I never could have. There are no limits to you, nothing you cannot do. And what we're to do next will bring the end of it all. I will not leave you. Even if this power consumes you then I will follow. I will never leave you. It was always you, I knew it was, and I'll never let you go."

At his words, you leant forward and rested your forehead on his, his warmth and light breathing life into your bones, his touch setting your nerve endings on fire. "I will stay," you pulled back slightly, your eyes wandered over his face, "We have a life to live."

"That we do," Eris pressed his lips to your knuckles and pulled you to stand, "Only I can do this next part. I'm sorry," his index finger stroked down your face and over your lips, scribing them to memory, and then his hands curled around the stone of the collar. Eris looked to you hesitantly, internally begging you to stop him, but all you did was rest your fingers on his wrists and nod to him with tear-filled eyes.

"I love you, Eris Vanserra. You could never hurt me."

"When all of this is over, I'm going to make you my wife. My High Lady."

A soft smirk tugged at your chapped lips, "You better."

Eris watched your eyes drift closed and your body relax, like it knew that you were safe with him, and that moment of serenity on your face was once he would remember for the rest of his days. His hands heated, fire stinging at his fingertips that grew searing alongside his will, and the stone began to crack under his touch. Eris knew that he was melting your skin, and you were doing your best to quieten the sobs of pain that stabbed at your chest and coursed down the bond.

He was your Carranam, his power harmonised perfectly with your own, and that power was currently locked within the stone encasing your limbs. He was the only one who could free you of them. The only one who could withstand it.

"I love you," he whispered.

The ground shook beneath your feet, the sand shifting and sinking as Eris deepened the trajectory of his power, sending it flowing through your veins to each stone cuff and melting through the surface of the stone until it smashed and fell to the ground. The ground stopped its shaking, the sand licking at the darkness pouring from the splinters of stone scattered around them, and you gasped lightly.

A crack sounded and Eris had nothing to hold onto before he was sent to the floor, the island turning and earth splitting alongside the ocean beneath his feet. They were all sent to crashing to the ground, all but you, you stood standing as tendrils of black danced up your legs, the darkness swam from the stone toward you, lapping blissfully at your feet before joining the others in their ascent.

Your eyes were still closed, but it was working. Once pallid skin was turning golden right before their eyes, your lifeless hair held its once-lost glossy hue again, your skin became fuller, like your power was healing you from the inside out. You were guzzling the darkness much like Helion had warned, and such an acceptance of power meant that the burst was coming, a burst that would threaten to devour anything within its reach.

With a single nod from Eris, Helion grasped at Nesta and Lucien, ignoring their pleas before winnowing out of there and back to the Autumn Court. Eris was the only one who would be able to control it. He shakily rose to his feet, and the earth threatened to send him tumbling into an abyss but he wouldn't allow it. Nothing would ever be able to take him from you.

Eris reached for your hands, holding onto them and forcing his fire into you, moulding his consciousness with your own so that your power had something to recognise as worth saving, so that it had something to control itself for.

The sand parted beneath you, and it was like the air was tightening in his lungs, you were consuming everything around you both. Wind circled the tent, so wild that it ripped the fabric from the ground and sped off into the tornado that had been created around the island, so untamed that not even the moon could shine on you. It crept in closer each passing moment, sucking all oxygen from the surface that was crumbling beneath him.

Eris grabbed your face in his hands, "I love you, y/n. I have always loved you. From the day I saw you in the Night Court, before I ever knew that we were always meant to be together, I have loved you. I swear that the stars sighed with relief the moment I found you. It was always meant to be us, and even if you blast me to the depths of hell I will rise from my grave and crawl on my knees to you."

Flashes of his dreams coursed through his mind, ones of a life of love and happiness, of your wedding, of the moment he crowned you his High Lady, of the moments where you would tell him you were with child with that sickly beautiful smile on your lips. If all he was meant to have with you was a couple of months then each second of his loneliness and torment was worth every moment he was able to spend with you. Eris could find some peace in it as the earth continued to disintegrate.

Pressing his lips to yours, he felt the tornado surrounding you draw closer and felt his feet begin to betray him, and he was happy to be swept up in your power, he had always relished in it, "I love you, Little Fawn, so much."

A gentle sharp intake of breath sounded in front of him, and he found himself lost in a pool of violet and molten fire just as your power splayed itself catastrophically over the oceans surface, sending the water and wind crashing backward a few hundred feet whilst the earth and sky continued to rumble, but Eris stood firm in your arms. The oceans screamed against your power, each rip and wave rushing to gather and rush back toward you, to drown you, growing so high that the moon had disappeared behind the tidal wave looming over your heads.

But, with a single flick of your fingers, the water halted and fell into a infantile pool of innocence that crept toward and doused your feet. The wind dropped and the earth stilled, all because you ordered it to do so wordlessly.

Then you found his eyes, hands touching every inch of his arms and chest like you were sure he had been swept away, "Are you alright?"

Eris nodded, cupping your face in his hands gingerly, and spoke, "Your fire. It's back."

A gentle breeze danced around you, flitting through your hair and carrying your scent to his lungs, "I told you. We have a life to live," your voice was as soft as the sun in Autumn, inviting and warm and full of light.

Looking down, Eris noticed that the sand beneath your feet was no longer sand, but that you were both stood just atop the surface of the ocean. Eris looked back up at you with a smirk, "So you can walk on water now?"

Frowning, you also peered down, tapping your toes against the water and dipping them below the surface for a moment. You shrugged, still wound in his embrace, and found his eyes once more, "What can I say? I am a God," Eris smiled at your words, not even a little bit surprised by them, he had always had an inkling, and pulled you into him, brushing his lips against yours and feeling the universe loosen a breath, "I'd like to go home now."

Eris hummed in agreement and buried his nose into the nape of your neck, peppering kisses along your collarbone and shoulder as the world around you dissipated from sight and the notion of home settled into your bones.

Authors Note

I'm so sorry that this took so long!

Finally feeling a little better and was able to finish this part! I really hope you all love it x

(Sorry if I've missed anyone from the list)

Taglist

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