#he’s blonde feyre!!! run!!!

[lucienarcheron]

This made me cringe so hard 😭😭 SJM did an excellent job making us ship them in the beginning because I ate this up the first time I read it 😭

[steveslevis]

all of you, all of me, intertwined.

azriel x healer!reader

summary: You met your mate during the war and have been obsessed with him–and his dagger–ever since.

warnings: smut!!!!!, improper use of of Truth-Teller (aka object in v), knife kink, dom/sub dynamic (+ hints of R in subspace), praise kink, lots of dirty talk, mentions of war & injuries, mentions of pregnancy

If anyone would’ve told you five years ago that the mating bond snaps for you when your brand new mate pulls a knife from his hip and presses it to your throat, you wouldn’t have believed them. Hell, even five days ago you wouldn’t have believed them. 

But here you are, a blade against your throat, back pushed against a wooden support of the tent you accidentally walked into as the most breathtaking male you’ve ever seen holds you in place, eyes narrowed and hands firm on your shoulder and throat as he stares down at you intensely with bright hazel eyes. 

You didn’t mean to walk into the wrong tent, exhaustion and confusion has taken over your body hours prior and it was an honest mistake to walk up the wrong row of tents in the middle of the night. So, you truly don’t blame the male for holding a knife to your throat. You would’ve done the same if a random fae waltzed into your tent while you were recuperating after battle, considering this is the middle of a Godsforsaken war with Hybern. 

A strained cry breaks from your throat as the bond tugs on your chest for the first time ever, feeling like your heart is about to beat through your ribcage as you stare back at the male in front of you, your mate. 

“Who are you?” he insists, blade pressing harder into your throat as he watches emotionlessly as you cry out once more.

You thrash in his grasp once, the blade slipping across your throat as you throw your head to one side. The male grips your chin to force you to look at him, making the blade slip across your throat once more, the tiniest ripples of blood coming to the surface as you lock eyes with him once more.

“M–Mate,” you whimper, voice barely audible as you stare up at him with terrified eyes, hands trembling as you try to reach for his blade. 

“Mate?”

Those are the only words you hear before you slip into unconsciousness, collapsing into the male’s grasp as he stands there, dumbfounded at your words. 

When you wake, you find yourself slumped in a chair, presumably in the tent that you accidentally entered prior to fainting. You’re faced with a familiar female when you wake, who you slowly realize is the High Lady of the Night Court. She’s standing over you, pressing a damp cloth to the shallow cuts on your throat. Your eyes wander as you process the people you’re currently in the room with, you see two very obviously Illyrian males next to the High Lord of the Night Court on one side of the room along with a tall, beautiful blonde female helping the High Lady with tending to you. 

It takes you a moment, but you slowly realize that you definitely wandered into the High Lord and Lady’s tent thanks to the fatigue from battle. 

On your final scan of the room, you finally comprehend that one of the Illyrian males on the other side of the room is definitely your mate, and it’s definitely the male that’s pacing back and forth in front of the other two while running his hands through his hair frantically. You finally recognize the two males with the High Lord as his General and Spymaster, the Spymaster being the one who bombarded you as you entered the tent, but you can’t remember either of their names in your haze.

You try to sit up straight as soon as you see him, but Feyre gently guides you back in the chair before you can. 

“Azriel,” she calls out, making the male snap his attention towards you. 

He’s next to you in an instant, kneeling next to the chair while peering up at you with those cautious hazel eyes. 

“H–Hi.” is all he says, voice shaky as he speaks. 

“H–Hello.” you stammer, finally sitting up straight in the chair, “My deepest apologies for barging in, I–I promise I thought I walked up the right row of tents, I was just trying to go–”

“It’s alright,” the male in front of you, who you now know to be named Azriel, interjects coolly, shaking his head as he notes the panic in your eyes. “The High Lord knows you mean no harm. He saw what you were trying to do.”

You furrow your brow, unsure what he means by the High Lord seeing what you were trying to do. Before you can question it, Rhysand himself takes a step towards your chair.

“And I saw how much blood you’d lost prior to your walk over to the tents, even before your new-found mate here decided to put a blade to your throat.” Rhysand says, “It’s Y/N, correct?” he asks, and you nod hesitantly, “Would you like to see a healer?”

It’s then that you remember that the High Lord is daemati and definitely infiltrated your mind when you entered the tent, in order to gauge the threat you posed to them. 

You shake your head quickly, a frown pulling on your lips as you’re reminded of the blood pooling beneath your leathers at your hip. You don’t want to see another healer, you’re a damn good healer, but you have to remind yourself that they don’t know that yet. Pain ripples through your side as you twist slightly in the chair to look at Rhysand and you have to force back a grimace as you give him a weak smile. 

“No, I am quite alright. Thank you very much, High Lord.” you say, nodding formally at him before attempting to stand from the chair. “I have plenty of healing and strength tonics back in my tent. I just n–need to wrap it and get some rest for the morning.”

You barely make it one step before stumbling, your mind going hazy and body going shaky due to the lost blood and lack of food or water throughout the day. Azriel is there to catch you as soon as you stumble, strong hands holding your weight up before settling you back into your chair. You see shadows skitter around you as you take a shuddering breath and you wonder if your vision is clouding again. But you soon notice them around Azriel’s hands as well and make a mental note to ask about them once you’re fully conscious and not feeling delusional. 

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fit to go anywhere right now.” Azriel mumbles with a slight growl in his voice, turning away from you immediately after you relax back into the chair. 

He walks over to a table on the other side of the room that’s filled with objects you’d find scattered across your own desk on any given day at work. There’s bottles of tonics, gauze, bandages and even some sutures strewn across the table. It makes sense that the High Lord and his Inner Circle would have their own supplies given to them during the war. 

Azriel takes his time gathering the supplies he needs, then sets them on a table adjacent to the chair before turning his attention back to you. 

“Do you need help, brother?” Rhysand questions, noting Azriel’s furrowed brow as he tries to decide what to do first. “I can call for Madja.”

“No, I can do it.” Azriel grunts insistently, sending a warning glare in Rhysand’s direction. 

There’s a tug in the center of your chest as he speaks, as he unintentionally sends his possessiveness and frustration down the bond to you. Without a word, you send a weak but soothing hum of power down the bond back to him, which makes his brows furrow again, his attention snapping to you instead of the High Lord now. 

The look in his eyes is wild, one filled with shock and awe as he processes what you just did. 

“Did you feel that?” you question softly, eyes wide and watery as your heart feels like it’s going to beat through your chest. 

He only nods, his own eyes wide as his hand rests over his heart. You hear the rest of them behind you beginning to exit, hearing the High Lady suggest that they go visit her sisters to give the two of you space. A feeling of relief washes over you as the tent empties, leaving you alone with Azriel, your mate.

“So it is real,” he says breathlessly, a strangled noise of shock falling from his lips as you tug on the bond once more, “you’re really my mate.”

“I am,” you say in reply, a smile playing on your lips as you gaze up at him, you reach a hand up to his cheek to cup it as you grin as you repeat his words back to him, “you’re my mate.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he notices how shaky your hand is against his cheek. He turns his gaze back to the slew of supplies he has in front of him. You hold back from directing him only for a moment before noticing the look of pure confusion on his face as he reaches for one of the tubs of salve that he’d grabbed. 

“Did Madja give you any strength tonics?” you ask, eyes scanning the table for the distinct bottle of aquamarine liquid that you have in mind. 

You spot it eventually, but can’t reach far enough to grab it, so you point to it for him to hand to you. Azriel does so and watches you closely while you shakily take off the stopper and take a drink from the bottle. You know that you only need to take half of the bottle, because you’d mixed these yourself and the amount in each was enough for male Illyrian warriors, not for an ordinary high fae healer. So you drink half of it and set it back down, noticing the male staring at you with wonder-filled eyes as you do.

There’s a beat of silence in the room as you reach for the healing salve on the table, making quick work of soothing the stinging cuts on your neck from Azriel’s interrogation. He continues to stare as you work on your own wounds, unsure of what he can do to help.

“Are you–” 

“A healer?” you interrupt with a smirk, giggling at the dumbfounded male in front of you. “I’m a healer working under Madja.”

“So you really don’t even need me to help with this, do you?” he questions, a small smile on his lips as he stares down at you soothing the cuts on your neck.

“Normally I wouldn’t,” you jokingly hum in return, “but since my healing abilities are stunted and I can’t twist too well right now to see what’s going on, I will need you to dress my wound.”

Azriel’s eyes widen at your words and he nods quickly, dropping to his knees in front of you again. His hands hovered over your waist, taking in the bloodied gash on your side. Your leathers are tattered in that area and there’s a piece of some other cloth shoved in between the holes of the leather, something you did while trying to keep the bleeding at bay while you fought. Truthfully, you can’t fully remember what caused the wound itself, but you’d rather not remember the traumas of the battlefield you endured over the last few days. 

“May I?” his voice interrupts your thoughts as his hands still wait for your approval to peel your leathers away from the wound. 

You nod silently, inhaling sharply as he pulls the leather away from your waist, tugging it up with your help. There’s blood caked on your skin, so Azriel makes quick work of carefully wiping down the area with a warm washcloth. You wince at the rough feeling of the cloth against your skin, biting back a cry as he continues to clean it. He mumbles apologies to you over and over again, his free hand grabbing for one of yours for you to squeeze.

“Almost done,” he murmurs, his thumb running across the back of your hand as he intently stares at your wound.

He finishes up quickly, pressing some dry gauze to the cut area before turning his gaze to you. Your eyes are watering when they meet his hazel ones, but you still give him a weak smile in return. 

“Now you can stitch me up, right?” you question jokingly.

Azriel misses the joke and the half smile on his face falls slowly at the thought. You giggle at his expression, shaking your head as he stares at you blankly.

“I’m only joking,” you tease, watching him finally relax once you start giggling. “I just need you to wrap me up, okay?”

“Yeah, yes of course.” he replies quickly, reaching for the large roll of bandage to his left to start wrapping it around your waist, “Do you harass all your healing trainees like that?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he places the bandage over the gauze on your side, eyes twinkling as he teases you back. 

“No, only the ones that interrogate me with a knife right before I find out that they’re my mate.” 

______________________________________________________________

Six years later

“Can you believe that it’s been six years since you held me at knife-point with Truth-Teller the first time we met?” you ask your mate, who just emerged from your en-suite bathroom in only a towel.

You’re laying on your side in the middle of your king-sized bed in the middle of your shared bedroom, toying with Truth-Teller that Azriel had left behind on the bedside table. 

“Are you ever gonna let that go?” Azriel says as he walks toward the edge of the bed, a smirk on his face as he pushes Truth-Teller out of your grasp. “I only did it because I thought you were gonna try to kill Rhys, or even worse, kill Feyre.” 

You gasp at his statement, throwing your hand over your heart dramatically. 

“I would never do such a thing and you know it.” you say with a dramatic frown, propping yourself up on your elbows as he inches closer to you by sitting down next to you. 

“I didn’t know that then,” he says matter-of-factly, “but now I know that you would never do such a thing and that you’re a little too fascinated by Truth-Teller after all that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re turned on by it.”

Your eyes widen at his bold statement, your body flushing with embarrassment as he smirks at you before pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hands caress your sides, fingers gently grazing over your scars from that fated night from over your silk nightgown. You grasp for any part of him that you can, your hands shoving their way into his slightly damp hair to pull him closer. He hums against your lips, pulling you onto his lap. 

He presses your hips down onto his, causing you to moan into the kiss and grind back into him as you feel his half-hard length pressing against your core. His lips trail from your lips, to your cheek, and up to your ear. His breath fans against your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Shadows trail along the hem of your nightgown, pulling the silky fabric up and up and up–

“How would you feel if I used Truth-Teller on you now, huh?” he murmurs against your skin, nibbling on your earlobe as he chuckles, “What if I took the blade and cut this pretty little nightgown off? What if I took the hilt and–”

Azriel’s lewd words are interrupted by a loud banging on your bedroom door, causing you to nearly jump out of his lap as the pounding continues.

“Training in twenty minutes with the Valkyries, asshole.” you hear Cassian’s booming voice call from the other side of the door, “Get your shit done and get out here, I can smell you two from out here.”

“I’ll be there, now fuck off,” Azriel retorts, biting back a smirk as he peers down at you to mumble, “remind me to look into new houses for just us soon.”

A pout pulls your lips down as you make the smallest bit of space between you and your mate, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you become all too aware of your arousal hanging thick in the room.

“Don’t worry, love. We can continue this later,” he hums, bringing his lips to your neck to pepper kisses along the soft skin, “I don’t wanna rush anything today, wanna take my sweet time with my sweet girl.”

The flush of your cheeks deepen as you pull him closer, whining in response to his sensual touch, grinding your hips ever-so-lightly against his as you try to silently convince him to stay with you. He only growls in response, shaking his head at your mischief as he realizes your plan. 

“It’s our anniversary, Az.” you whine, a frown on your lips once more as the scent of your arousal continues to linger around you, enticing your mate more and more with each breath. 

It’s the anniversary of the mating bond snapping into place along with the anniversary of your mating ceremony today. The two of you decided to wait a year to accept the bond in order to get to know each other, and you’ve been inseparable since.

“I know, love.” he coos gently, hand coming up to your cheek to stroke it gently. “That’s why I wanna take my time with you, wanna make sure my perfect girl is taken care of in every way possible tonight. Can you be a good little mate and hold out until after dinner with the family?”

You continue to frown at your mate, but nod at him slowly. He smiles in return, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before gripping your hips to remove you from his lap and place you back on the bed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to training?” Azriel asks as he stands, reaching for his coveted blade as he stands over you. “I could bring Truth-Teller out to play just for you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the familiar yet strange feeling of dread roiling within your gut as you try to feign annoyance with your mate. You shake your head at him wordlessly, rolling your eyes playfully when he shoots a lighthearted smirk in your direction. He’s only teasing you and you both know it, but the thought of training for battle does not sit right with you anymore, especially after you swore to him five years ago that he’d protect you forever, and that you’d never have to be on the front lines of war again. You could continue your duties as a healer for as long as you pleased, and would never have to worry about defending yourself, as your very own shadowsinger would do so for you. 

Ever since sustaining your injury six years prior, your body has never been the same. The injury you sustained was so intense that even the powers of you and Madja combined couldn’t heal the skin of your waist fully, nor could the two of you completely repair the damage to your hip bone that fractured from the impact of whatever took a chunk out of you. You can’t move as freely as you once could, though it doesn’t stop you from many things now aside from training, which you’ve only attempted once. 

“I’m only joking, love.” he reassures you, seeing the dimming light in your eyes as you drift off into thought at the idea of training. His hand runs along your side reflexively, as if his own scarred hands can heal the scarred skin of your waist. He plants one soft kiss on your lips before pulling away, taking you in as he smiles, “I love you, happy anniversary.” 

“Happy anniversary, Az. I love you so much.” you murmur, watching as your mate continues to get ready for the day. 

—

The day flies by quickly, filled mostly with fulfilling orders from Madja for illness tonics and salves in preparation for the coldest months in Prythian. It’s all a blur to you in all honesty, your mate being the only thing on your mind all day as you try to preoccupy yourself with busy work until it’s time to go to the River House for dinner.

It’s only 4:30 in the evening by the time you finish putting the rest of the salves into their tins. But you still decide to head to the River House a little early in order to speak to Feyre regarding an experimental tonic the two of you had brainstormed about a few weeks prior. 

She had commissioned you to do some research on non-Illyrian females giving birth to half-Illyrian children if there was any magic that could help to make the process less life-threatening. The High Lady never specifically asked you to make anything, just to research the topic, but you found a mix of tonics that would potentially help with flexibility and strength of a female’s bones during pregnancy in order to prevent major complications with the Illyrian wings and couldn’t help but start experimenting right away. 

It was a topic dear to your heart and you were more than grateful for Feyre’s commission, as you’d been told by Madja multiple times that it’s very possible that you’d never be able to mother Azriel’s children, especially due to the injuries you sustained in battle damaging your hip and pelvis. You’d hoped that this could be the cure for your feelings of inadequacy in being able to give your mate a child, but Madja still warns you to be careful and to wait as long as possible before deciding to try for a child in order to make sure you are truly healed. 

Despite the ringing thoughts of inadequacy in your brain after finishing the tonic, you nearly floated with excitement over to the River House at the end of your day, feeling beyond excited to tell Feyre the great news about your work-in-progress.

You enter the River House and are greeted with the smell of fresh pastries and a crackling fireplace. One turn into the drawing room and you spot Feyre lounging on the couch while Nesta plays with Nyx in the middle of the floor. Rhysand enters the room from the other direction as you do, three glasses of wine in hand as he strolls toward the couch to sit with his mate. Your chest blooms with warmth at the sight in front of you, admiring your found family that you lucked into becoming part of just a few years ago. 

Feyre is the first to notice you enter the room, greeting you with a grin as she motions for you to come in. You sit on the couch that’s facing the one the mates are sitting on, quietly greeting the others in the room as you settle. 

Nyx all but abandons Nesta when you come in, waddling over to you to give your legs a hug. You giggle at the boy, grabbing him under his arms to pull him into your lap and give him a proper hug giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re here early today,” Rhys notes, summoning a fourth glass of wine for you before handing it to you. 

“I finished with my work early today, and had some exciting news to tell the High Lady that I wanted to share before dinner.” you retort with a smile, bouncing the toddler on your knee as you speak. 

Feyre’s eyes narrow at you as you call her by her formal title, but it’s so second nature to you that you almost always slip up when referring to her in conversation. You give her an apologetic look but her mood quickly changes once she realizes what you’re referring to.

“Oh, what have you found?” she says excitedly, sitting up straight as if that would help her hear your response any better. “Any good ideas for us to look into?”

“Actually, I have something better than good ideas to look into,” you say, reaching your hand into the bag at your side, pulling out a small vial of a cherry red tonic to show the three in front of you. 

“Is that–”

You nod slowly and hum in response, swirling the liquid in the vial before handing it to Feyre. She inspects it with wide, wonder-filled eyes as it sloshes in the tube. Nesta and Rhys crane their necks to look as well, both confused about the content of the vial.

“If it does what it is meant to do, it should be able to widen the pelvis of non-Illyrian females in order to aid in the birth of winged babes and make the process easier on our bodies.” you start, a bittersweet smile on your face as you catch yourself using the word our, referring to yourself as one of the females, though you know how unlikely it is that you’ll be able to. “It is supposed to help with the flexibility of the bone and grow the bone outward in order to accommodate the wings. We–We just need to complete some trials on non-pregnant females to confirm that it does what we want it to do before we can start advertising it to the public–”

“I’ll volunteer,” Nesta says, eyes wide as her own eagerness takes her aback. “I mean–If you need volunteers, I would love to help.”

“Of course, Nes.” you say with a smile, “You’ll be the first person on my list to contact when we’re ready for volunteers.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjects, taking a sip of wine as he peers over at you with nothing but pure interest and amusement in his eyes. “Would this be able to help you with childbirth, given your situation?”

Feyre immediately elbows her mate in the ribs, giving him a sidelong glare as she does. You know his curiosity is genuine and he means no harm by asking the question, but the thought alone feels like a knife through the heart. 

As you open your mouth to answer him, the doors to the house swing open, a booming voice flowing through the lower level as Cassian and Azriel enter. You thank the Cauldron in that moment for Cassian’s loud mouth, turning your attention to the two males strolling into the drawing room. 

Your mate’s eyes meet your own instantly, brow furrowed as he looks down to you, able to feel your discomfort, thanks to the conversation they’d interrupted, through the bond. You give him a weak, but reassuring smile, tugging on the bond lightly as if to tell him that you’re fine. 

“We thought we’d find you two here,” Cassian says to you and his mate, pulling Nesta into an embrace when she stands to greet him. “Neither of you can go a full day without seeing your precious Nyx, can you?” 

You smile down at the giggling boy in your lap, little wings flapping happily behind him as Cassian comes behind him to poke him teasingly. 

“As much as I love this little babe, I know my rightful place,” you laugh, standing from the couch to hand the child over to Nesta. “I know I’m quite far down on the list of favorites, especially since Auntie Nes is 1000% his number one.” 

Nesta hums in approval as she holds the little boy close, cooing as he plops his head down on her shoulder. 

Azriel makes his way over to you, his shadows immediately greeting you with lingering touches and whispers in your ears. His wing closest to you nearly wraps all the way around you like a protective shield, covering your back as he pulls you to his side to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you alright?” he mumbles against your skin and you nod, feeling better now that your mate is by your side again, especially when he sends a soothing hum down the bond to you. 

The rest of the night goes by smoothly, with flowing drinks and a bountiful feast. You told Feyre a thousand times that she did not have to do all of this just to celebrate your five year mating ceremony anniversary, but she insisted. It’s just you, Nesta, Feyre and your mates, and Nyx, present for dinner this time, as the others have other obligations. 

You don’t mind, though, since sometimes it’s overwhelming with all of the Inner Circle, including Varian and Lucien following their lovers around like lost puppies, present for dinners. So you’re grateful for the somewhat smaller crowd, meaning there are less people around to ask prying questions about your job, about your life before meeting Azriel, or–your least favorite–about what Azriel is like in bed. Those questions typically come from Mor or Amren after a few too many glasses of fae wine, but you’re grateful for the break from them for the time being.

You don’t miss the way your mate sneaks glances at you all night, sending his shadows to tease you and play with the crushed velvet of your skirts while acting engrossed by conversation with Nesta, using his own strong hand on your thigh to tease you. 

By the time desserts roll out, you’re having a hard time sitting still under his touch, ready to head back to the House of Wind to continue whatever you had started with him earlier in the day. You’re shifting back and forth in your seat while trying to focus on the chocolate tart in front of you when you feel a strong hand squeeze your thigh once again, making you snap your attention to your mate. 

Azriel smirks down at you, reaching his free hand to your cheek to stroke it gently. Your knee brushes his leg as he massages your thigh gently, pushing your knee against the sheath holding Truth-Teller flush to his outer thigh while a wicked smirk plays on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s damn near driving you insane.

“Are you going to be okay to leave after you finish your dessert, love?” he questions, feigning innocence as he knows at least Nesta and Cassian are listening to him from the seats on the other side of you. “I’m exhausted from training today.”

You nod quietly, keeping a cool and collected expression on your face while you tug on the bond between your souls sensually.

It’s only 8 in the evening by the time Az is shooting into the sky with you in his arms, two hours earlier than the two of you usually are leaving the River House on a family dinner night. He typically has to drag you out of the drawing room after multiple drinks with Feyre and Cassian, but this time you’re the one dragging him out. 

He doesn’t even bother entering the House of Wind through the front, just flies straight onto the balcony outside your bedroom, pushing the door open quickly as he sets you down gently. 

Before you can pounce, he turns away from you and walks over to his desk on the other side of the room, rummaging through the top drawer. He pulls out a black rectangular box that’s a little longer than his hand, adorned with a golden ribbon. You frown as he turns back around, shaking your head at him.

“Az, we said no gifts.” you say, brows furrowing as he runs his hand along the edges of the box nervously. “I–I didn’t get you anything.”

“I know, I didn’t want you to get me anything,” he says firmly, hazel eyes flaring with love and intensity as he stares down at you. “I–I just wanted to give you this, it’s something I’ve had for a long time and haven’t really known what to do with, until now.”

He’s firm in his movements as he places the box into your hands, not letting go until you accept the gift. You eventually grab it, a frown crossing your face as you look down at the box.

You choose not to argue with him anymore, giving in to his intense gaze as you tug on the golden ribbon to free the lid for the box. In all honesty, you’re expecting some kind of jewelry, some delicate and historic necklace that he’s had for centuries. What you’re not expecting to find on the other side of the black lid is a dagger. 

Lying within a blanket of velvet inside of the box is a silver dagger, one with a braided silver and gold hilt adorned with large white and golden-yellow gemstones in an intricate pattern imitating starlight all the way from the pommel down to the cross-guard. A gasp falls from your lips as you take in the beauty of the weapon in the box, unsure of what to say.

“I was given this dagger centuries ago by my mother. She told me she knew I would never use it myself because my hands had nearly outgrown it by the time she gave it to me, but she knew that I would find the perfect person to give it to.” Azriel says, unsheathing Truth-Teller to place it next to the box in your hand. “I think deep down she knew that I would meet you, love.”

The dagger within the box is almost an exact replica of Truth-Teller in shape and form but not size, only the color of the gemstones embedded in the metal and the gold-adorned hilt of the smaller one setting the two apart. 

The two blades seem to hum when set next to each other, as if they were Made together, as if they were twin flames, as if they were mates. You can feel the vibration in your hands along with in your own soul as you stare down at the gift in wonder.

“Az, I–I can’t take this from you,” you say, finally looking back up at him with teary eyes, “I know how much your daggers mean to you, I don’t want to take one from you.”

“My lightsinger,” Azriel nearly whispers to you, his free hand coming up to brush through your hair, “my beautiful mate, can’t you see?”

You smile gently at the nickname, one he’d given you shortly after the two of you had met. He’d told you that he thought you were a lightsingerwhen you walked into the tent that evening, joking that you were just like the faeries living in the Bog of Oorid in the way that you lured him in immediately. The nickname stuck, especially after the first time he’d watched you heal Nyx, seeing the bright light flowing from your fingers as you healed the boy’s scraped knee to ease his pitiful sobs. 

“Can’t you feel it, love? This dagger was made for you, it took me so long to realize it, but I just know this was made for you. It sings to Truth-Teller, just like your soul sings to mine. You are the light to my shadows, I–I really never thought I would find you in this lifetime, but then you just stumbled into that damn tent six years ago and my life has been so much better since. I was stuck in a constant state of darkness with no real purpose in sight until this bond snapped into place, but now I can see what my life is meant to be spent with you.” he continues, cupping your cheek. 

For a man of few words, Azriel always knows how to make you melt. Without a word, you pull him down for a gentle kiss, feeling the two daggers hum in rhythm with your bond between your bodies. You pull away from the kiss to peer up at him, eyes glowing with love and warmth.

“I love you, Azriel.” you whisper, pulling him close as his shadows skitter over your hand that’s touching his cheek. “My shadowsinger, my mate.”

He doesn’t say anything as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other pulling the daggers from your grasp. He sets you and the blades onto the edge of the bed, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he kisses you deeply.

“Can we finally finish what we started earlier today?” you tease against his lips, earning a chuckle from the shadowsinger.

“I think we need to finish the conversation we were having earlier before we continue anything else, yeah?” he murmurs, trailing kisses along the smooth skin of your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently, grinding your hips up into his eagerly. 

“Hmm, you don’t?” he questions, blindly searching for the blade he’d strewn onto the bed next to you with his free hand before running it along your arm. You gasp at the contact, the coolness of the blade making your skin erupt in goosebumps, “Does this jog your memory at all, love?”

You open your mouth to make a teasing comment to your mate, but he trails the blade from your arm and up to your chest, stopping at the hem of your shirt laying between your breasts.

“Do you want me to use my blade on you?” he questions, voice low and sultry as he speaks, “I see the way you watch when I train with Truth-Teller, I can feel the way it makes your heart race every time I pull it out. I see how disappointed you get when I take it off my hip when I come into the bedroom, love.” he continues, the tip of the blade drawing tiny circles on your chest as your breathing grows heavy. “Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

You stare up at him with lust-filled eyes, pupils blown as you think about what’s about to happen. He gives you an encouraging yet lustful look in return, tugging on the bond between your souls to tell you how much he needs you. His shadows trail around you as well, tendrils swirling by your ears and down near your breasts excitedly to spur you on. 

“I–I want you to use Truth-Teller on me, Az.” you admit finally, a blush spreading over your cheeks at the confession. 

“How would you like me to use it, love? You gotta use your words or I won’t know what you want.” he coaxes, a smirk playing on his lips as he tries to get you to elaborate, since it always took much encouragement from the foul-mouthed shadowsinger to get you to talk dirty with him. 

“Want you t–to fuck me with it, u–use the hilt to fuck me.” you murmur, eyes falling to avoid his as the words fall from your lips. “Want you to cut my clothes off with it and–and then fuck me, mark me as yours, Az.”

He hums happily at your confession, one hand coming up to grip your chin. Your eyes meet his and you notice that something’s changed, something dark and lustful taking over his gaze as he trails the blade from the exposed skin of your chest towards the ruffled neckline of your pale marigold dress. Your breath catches as the blade digs into the velvet, easily creating a small nick in the fabric.

“This dress is one of my favorites on you,” Azriel states in an almost disappointed tone as he watches the blade slowly separating the bust of the dress, “but I guess I’ll just have to find a really good seamstress to make you a new one because I need to get this off of you, right now.”

Before you can process the scene unfolding, Azriel uses one swift flick of Truth-Teller to split the velvet all the way down to your navel, and one more to separate the skirt. His eyes are wide as he shoves the fabric from your body, helping you as you tug your arms out of the sleeves, leaving you in only a glittering navy blue bralette and thong, picked out specially for him. 

“You’re incredible,” the shadowsinger breathes out, feverishly pressing his lips to yours again once he takes in your figure below him.

Your heart races as you raise your hips up, grinding against his clothed cock while he trails Truth-Teller over your bare hip. He groans into your mouth before pulling away from the kiss, gently removing your legs from around his hips to spread them for you. Shadows work on your bralette as he moves the blade, unbuttoning the back of it so you can quickly toss it off, leaving you in only the glittering navy thong.

Truth-Teller is in Azriel’s hand as he takes a half-step away from you in order to trail the blade down to your core, the cool metal against your heat causing you to squirm slightly. He smirks at you as he flips the dagger around, hand on the blade as he presses the hilt against your clit. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” he questions seriously, watching you closely for any signs of hesitation. He finds none as you shake your head firmly.

“Yes, Az.” you nearly whine as it takes everything in you to keep your hips on the bed, feeling like you’re going to implode if he waits another minute to touch you. “I need you..need Truth-Teller, please.” 

“Nuh-uh, love. I gotta hear what you want.” he purrs, a smirk playing on his lips as he holds your hips in place with one hand while pressing the dagger against your clit with the other, “Gotta tell me what you need from me and Truth-Teller.”

It takes everything in you not to scream as he urges you to beg for him, tears welling in your eyes as you stare up at your mate. His hazel eyes are blown with lust as he continues his relentless teasing, getting pleasure from you begging for him.

“P–Please,” is all you can say as your mind becomes fogged by desire, eyes glassy as you beg.

“Use your words, love.” he prods again, a wild smirk on his face as he watches you becoming a mess beneath him. He knows you love submitting to him like this, and loves watching you give in to his every desire, loves watching you give up all control in order to please him. 

“I don’t know what you want when you just sit there and whine at me,” he teases, removing Truth-Teller from your core to move it towards your lips. “For all I know, you could want me to fuck your face with it.”

He catches the way your eyes flare slightly with interest at his suggestion, the way your lips part slightly as if you’re ready to take the hilt in your mouth instead. He knows you’re close to giving in again just from the way you can’t take your eyes off of him, the look in your eyes showing him that you’ll do anything for him.

A low chuckle falls from his lips as your mouth falls open when the pommel presses against your plump lips, allowing him to slide the hilt into your mouth with ease. Your lips close around the metal and he presses it to the back of your throat, slowly pumping it in and out as you whine around it.

“This isn’t what you really want, is it?” he questions and you hum around the hilt and shake your head slowly. “That’s what I thought. Once I take this out of your mouth, you have five seconds to tell me what you want, or you don’t get to cum at all tonight, got it?”

You nod obediently up at him, heart swelling with pride as he smiles sweetly down at you. 

“Good girl.” he whispers, finally pulling Truth-Teller out of your mouth for you to speak.

“Want you to fuck me with Truth-Teller, Sir.” you beg almost immediately, “Please, I–I need to feel it, wanna cum on your dagger, wanna be your good girl.”

“Oh, I can’t say no when you ask so sweetly, can I?” he coos at you as he pulls your panties away from your core, making room for his fingers on your clit and the hilt of the dagger against your entrance. “Now, be a good girl for me and stay still, sweetheart.”

He presses the pommel into your cunt, groaning as he watches your heat swallow the metal so well. A cry of pleasure falls from your lips as the hilt is pushed deeper into you, mouth falling open as you squeeze your eyes shut. That familiar feeling coils in your core as the hilt reaches your cervix, pent up from all the teasing you endured leading up to this moment. 

“Look at you, already ready to fall apart on my dagger. Such a good slut for me,” he remarks, pumping the blade into you at a steady pace. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, alright?”

“Yes, Sir!” you whine, nodding feverishly as you squirm.

Azriel watches in wonder as you take the entire hilt of the blade, your hips bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. He can tell you’re fighting hard to hold back your orgasm, getting even more turned on by the tears of pleasure and frustration pricking the corners of your eyes as you bite your lip harshly. 

“Love when you take what I give you and listen so well,” he praises, increasing the speed of his thrusts as you begin to chant his name mindlessly, “My beautiful little mate.”

“P–Please, Sir.” you beg, eyes opening quickly and hips snapping roughly as you feel the shadows begin to work on your clit when Azriel takes his hand away to palm himself through his pants. “I wanna cum for you, please!”

“That’s it, love.” he coaxes as you don’t dare to look away from him, watching as he smirks down at you approvingly, “C’mon, cum on my blade.”

You don’t have to be told twice, your release immediately washing over your whole body as you let out a loud cry of pleasure. Azriel wraps an arm around your waist as you squirm beneath him, pumping Truth-Teller into you at an unforgiving pace to fuck you through your orgasm. He kisses your neck gently, whispering praises in your ear that you can’t hear over the shout that falls from your lips. He doesn’t stop moving until you’re almost begging him to, squirming beneath him to get away from his relentless touches. 

“Did so good for me.” he murmurs against your skin, planting one last kiss against your neck before pulling away from you completely and placing Truth-Teller next to you on the bed. “Think you can give me another?”

You watch in a daze as he strips, discarding his clothes quickly before returning to the foot of the bed. In his own lustful daze, he begins to sheath himself into you immediately upon stripping, but stops himself when he looks down to see you blinking up at him slowly. He relaxes for a moment, reaching to stroke your cheek gently to bring you back to him. 

“Need your color, love.” he coos, smiling down at you sweetly.

“Green, Az.” you say confidently as you nuzzle against his hand, “Need you so bad, Az, please.”

He hums in response, leaning down to kiss you gently as he pushes into you, one hand toying with your clit as he does. You both groan at the feeling, his cock filling you to the brim, unlike the hilt of Truth-Teller that didn’t have the same thickness.

“F–Fuck,” he groans, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, love. Don’t know how long I’ll last.”

He couldn’t lie, watching you get off on Truth-Teller turned him on so much more than it should have. It turned him on so much that he’d almost cum in his pants at the sight of you, so he’s on the brink of cumming just from being inside your warmth for a few strokes. 

“Want you to cum in me, Az.” you whine, desperate to feel him, in love with the sight of your mate marking you as his. “Please, cum inside me. I’m close again too. Make me yours all over again.”

He nods wordlessly, speeding up his thrusts as you coax him now, the feeling of you clenching around him spurring him on even more. You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his shoulder while you moan, his name falling from your lips like a chant. 

It isn’t long before his hips are stuttering, thrusts becoming erratic as he reaches his own climax. You’re not far behind, feeling his cum coating your walls making you cum quickly as you hold onto him tightly. 

“Gods,” he mumbles as he collapses against you, your sweat-slick bodies flush against each other as you feel your heart beating in time with his. “You’re unbelievable.”

You hum tiredly in response, trying to fight your weariness for long enough to get ready for bed. Azriel can tell that you’re exhausted as he pulls away, and he knows what he has to do. He plants a quick kiss to your forehead as he pulls his half-hard cock from your cunt, making you whine at the loss of contact. 

Before you can protest, he’s walking towards the en-suite bathroom to draw you a bath, though the House is already one step ahead of him. There’s already a steaming bath running, along with a bottle of fae wine and two glasses sitting next to the tub, ready for the two of you to clean off. 

Azriel quietly thanks the House and returns to where you’re sprawled out on the bed. You give him a tired smile as he reaches for you, stroking your hair to get your attention. 

“Let’s take a bath before you fall asleep, alright?” he suggests and you nod, willingly letting him pick you up bridal-style to carry you to the bathroom.

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his bare chest as he carries you effortlessly, “I love you, my shadowsinger.” “And I love you, my lightsinger.”

taglist: @wrecklesssly @slutforwordsfr @georgiadixon @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout

[pellucid-constellations]

All Over Again

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're drunk. Your mate is trying to get you home. Only problem is—you're really, really drunk.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Drinking, absolutely zero attempt to establish a pov on my part

a/n: A cute little drabble because if it all fell is making me a tiny bit sad and I love this trope <3

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

The world spun around you as you let out a delighted laugh, faerie wine pulsing in your veins. This was bliss, and—admittedly—the most fun you’d had in months. The workload you’d been dealt this last year was one for the books. 

“Exactly how many drinks did you have?” Feyre asked you, red and green rays lighting up her face in time with the beat inside Rita’s. 

“So many,” you yelled back, flinging your arms around her shoulders. “So many and I’m going to have more!” 

The High Lady chuckled and swayed with you as you dragged her around the dancefloor. 

This was good for you, your friends had decided, a girl’s night where you could let go of all your responsibilities and inhibitions and then sleep for a solid two days afterward. Feyre and Mor had agreed to stay relatively sober to watch over you, but Mor was just as intoxicated as you were at this point.

“Mor!” you screamed, the shout directed fully into Feyre’s ear. She flinched, but you just continued. “Mor, come here! We can all dance together!” 

The blonde was pulled into the circle of fae, but very little “dancing” took place. You were far past the level of functional inebriation. 

“We should get Azriel,” Feyre shouted over your head, trying to catch the attention of her very distracted friend. 

But Mor just laughed and asked, “Who the hell is that?” as she left the pair to join a woman in a dazzling purple dress at the bar. 

Feyre bit back a sigh, still feeling patient with the small amount of alcohol running through her. “We should go home, yeah?” she attempted, catching your clutch as it tumbled out of your hands. 

You responded with a loud, “Woo!” and Feyre knew she needed to call in reinforcements. A quick outstretch of her mind and the request was sent. 

“This is so much fun!” Your smile was infectious, Feyre replicating it unconsciously as she watched you jump around. “I love you!” you screamed at her—again, directly into her ear. 

It was a few short minutes before Azriel’s presence was felt inside the overcrowded pleasure hall. Small streams of black shadows had begun to slink around your shoulders and arms with you none the wiser to their arrival. Feyre smirked when you jumped at a hand on your back. 

“Hello, my love,” Azriel said, voice low as he bent over to relay the words. “Having fun?” 

Your responding screech had panic flashing across the spymaster’s face, the man simply watching as you threw yourself against Feyre’s chest. He sent a tentative hand out in your direction, but you only pressed further into your friend. 

“Y/n—” Azriel began. 

“I’m married,” you seethed. “I have a mate,” you doubled down. 

Azriel blinked. 

He looked around him, checking behind his tightly coiled wings and past the broad expanse of his shoulders. 

When no other fae appeared to be lurking near his mate, Azriel returned his attention to the pair in front of him, his hazel eyes meeting your piercing (but rather hazy) glare. 

“Y/n, I am… well aware that you have a mate,” he replied, shaking his head to match his slow words. 

You scoffed, sending Feyre a glance as if to say, “Can you believe this guy?” 

“Well, then you should be well aware—” A shaky, misguided finger pointed close to where Azriel was standing “—that I am not interested in you. Got that?” 

A smile paired with furrowed brows conveyed the vast array of Azriel’s current feelings. He watched as you sent him another scathing glare and turned back to your High Lady, noticing the uneven way you stood and the handful of your belongings being managed by your friend. 

“She’s had a lot to drink,” Feyre emphasized. “I’ve been trying to get her to go home but she won’t budge. I thought you’d be able to persuade her. She’s been talking about you nonstop.” 

You were maneuvered into a quieter hallway as Feyre recounted your adventures of the night, making sure to catalog each drink she saw you consume. Azriel fought back a grimace as he pictured you in the morning. You had the worst hangovers. 

“Y/n,” Feyre began, offering you an encouraging smile as you blearily blinked at her words. “Azriel’s here. Do you want to see him? He said he’d bring you home with him.” 

This time, you gasped, face betraying you as it heated with embarrassment. “You called Azriel here?” 

“Mhm, and he said he’s terribly exhausted and needs you to come home for the night.” 

You gaped. “He wants me to come home with him?” 

Standing at your back, Azriel felt his expression pucker in confusion. Hadn’t you just chastised him for flirting with you, a married woman? A married woman who was married to him? 

Feyre seemed to agree with that sentiment as she nodded and said, “Of course he does. He always wants you with him.” 

Your eyes grew wide, hands reaching out to grip Feyre’s shoulders in a serious motion. “Did you tell him?” you panicked. “Fey, you promised you wouldn’t tell him. It could ruin everything.” 

Azriel was suddenly catapulted back about 20 years to when you were too nervous to tell him you were in love with him and Azriel was too much of an idiot to tell you that you were his mate. But that time had passed, thankfully, long ago. The two of you were now very much in love, both mated and married shortly after the inner circle had meddled in your affairs. 

Looking past his disorientation, Azriel caught your wide, pleading gaze directed at Feye. 

“Y/n?” he asked, craning his neck to catch your eyes. When you slowly turned in mortification, a soft kind of adoration pulled at his chest. “Hey,” he smiled. “I’m going to take you home, alright?” 

“O-Okay,” you blushed, taking his outstretched hand in your own. “To my apartment?” 

“No, I thought we’d go to mine. That alright?” he asked, voice gravelly and low and echoing off the long hallway inside Rita’s. 

It didn't matter that you were actually going to his house. The one the two of you shared. 

Instinctually, Azriel grabbed your hand, twinning his fingers with yours and pulling you closer. You, however, so drunk that you were unsure of your current whereabouts or today's date, let out a shaky breath at the intimacy. Azriel felt your fingers tremble between his own. 

“Is this okay?” he found himself asking. 

You nodded jerkily, and Azriel relished in the feeling of falling in love with you all over again. It was an immensely better experience than you pushing him away and accusing him of preying on married women. 

His married woman, but that was beside the point. 

A few steps in silence. You shivered with the rush of cool air outside the pleasure hall. Azriel shifted his wings out, enveloping you in their warmth. 

“Um,” you began, fiddling with his fingers as they rested beside yours. “It’s really nice of you to walk me home.” 

His heart was going to burst. Seeing you, his mate, so shy and reserved and hopelessly enamored by him in such a public way was endlessly endearing. 

“Of course. I would never let you walk home alone,” he replied evenly. And then, to spice things up, he added, “I told you I would always protect you. I meant that.” 

“You said th—” 

You whipped your head to the side as you spoke, losing your balance with the alcohol coursing through you. Your feet fumbled over each other and Azriel caught your hip to deter you from making a full-on beeline for the ground. After he was sure you were not going to plummet to your death, he tucked your hair back from your face. 

“You are my mate,” he said, so assuredly. It was a truth ingrained within him. “I will always walk you home.” 

Your eyes went wide, fingers wrapped tightly around his arms as he held you. You held eye contact with your mate, a feat in and of itself with the state of your head, and he watched as your tongue came out to wet your lips. 

And then, just because he could—because you were his and because you probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning—he whispered, “I love you.” 

The sharp intake of breath that followed his words was apparently too much for your alcohol-addled brain. You let out a small squeak, blinked at him several times, and then, you fainted. Directly into your mate's arms. 

Azriel carried you home (the one you two shared, to clarify yet again), silently laughing to himself, feeling quite smug at the outcome that night. 20 years and he still felt the same. 20 years and he was still in disbelief that he got to walk you home. 

[readychilledwine]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.

Small World

Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys

A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Part Two is Here

Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.

He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.

He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.

He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.

You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.

That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.

You two spoke about everything.

Well.

Almost everything.

Families were a mostly banned topic.

Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.

You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.

But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.

And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.

You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.

You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."

Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."

You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.

You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."

Home.

The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.

Small. Intimate. Cozy.

Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.

Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.

You shared one last kiss, opening the door.

Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.

Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.

Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.

Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.

Sandy blonde hair.

Button nose.

High cheek bones.

Part illyrian.

Eyes that reflected starlight.

Eyes that were near violet.

Rhysand's eyes.

"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.

Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"

Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."

Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."

Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."

Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"

Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.

"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"

Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."

Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"

"I wasn't ready."

"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"

"Rhys!" "Dad!"

Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."

"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."

Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."

Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."

You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.

You should have put two and two together.

Scarred hands.

Massive wingspan.

Mysterious male.

Pretty dagger.

Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.

The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.

The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.

You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"

You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."

The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.

Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.

It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.

Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."

Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"

"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."

She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"

"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."

"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."

Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"

Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."

Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."

"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."

Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."

"She just doesn't listen."

Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."

"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."

"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."

Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."

Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."

You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."

PS - there will be a part two

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

[cressidagrey]

Unprecedented

Summary:

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

What if… Azriel actually takes Rhys at his word? And does exactly what his High Lord ordered? With unexpected consequences.

This is Azriel finding out about said unexpected consequences.

Warnings:

Mention of Sex Work, Unexpected Pregnancy, Mention of Faerie Genocide, Mention of Faerie Wings being used as leather, Mention of Sex

Note:

This was a thought experiment that kinda started to grow a life on its own.

(super pretty divider by @saradika-graphics)

“I am pregnant.”

These were the last words Azriel expected to leave her mouth. 

And Azriel had heard her say a lot of different things over the last few months.  A whole lot of different things. 

He could just stare at her. 

Her being…Blossom. He knew that that wasn’t her real name. But it was the name she went by in Marge’s Pleasure Hall…while at work. 

Blossom. 

He had never pushed deep enough to figure out the name that she was born with.

There was an enchantment on these pleasure houses in Velaris. Whatever happened inside, stayed inside. 

No customer would be able to talk about it outside, would be able to annoy any of the males and females working there outside of their place of employment. 

He blinked. Once. Twice.

His mind running.

There was just one reason why she would even tell him. Why she wouldn’t just…have Marge, the proprietress tell him that she wasn’t available for their long-standing appointment.

Ever since Solstice, ever since Rhys had spat these words at him…Azriel had come here. Followed his High Lord's order to the fucking letter. 

He had been furious immediately after it had happened but quickly it had melted away. Been replaced with old hurt and open wounds, something that had scabbed over and been reopened again and again. 

So then he had come here. His request had been simple. Any female that was not terrified of him. 

And Blossom…Blossom had been the one who had taken his hand and pulled him into her room upstairs.

And when she had lifted the glamour that laid over her, that hid away blush hair and shimmering wings he could Just stare at her. 

An enchantress had done it for her. Hidden away a glamour in a bracelet she could wear. Making her hair blonde and her eyes blue and hiding the dragonfly wings that sprouted from her back. 

A Floresco Fairy from the spring court. So rare that it was pretty much legendary. 

They had been hunted to extinction. For their wings. 

Which were used as leather to make evening bags and shoes. It had been all the rage in spring court. Alone the thought of it…it turned his stomach. Staring at these wings that she kept glamoured away with the help of a bracelet…and knowing that her family had been slaughtered for the same. 

She never talked about it, about how exactly she had come to Velaris, how she came to work at Marge’s…what had resulted in her being a whore and not…something else. 

Still, he couldn’t help but stare at these shimmering wings.

Ethereal beauty.

He hadn’t fucked her that first evening. Or the week after or the week after that. 

He had let her bathe him because sometimes the only thing he wanted was the touch of another person. Another person that slid in his lap in the bathtub and brushed kissed to his cheek and slid her soft hands over her skin and…

Cauldron. 

Every visit to Blossom had been worth every gold coin he spent on her. Every clipped copper.

She became his sanity.

Regardless of what else happened…Thursday evenings were theirs. 

Once a week he came. Once a week he visited her. 

“Do you know who the father is?” He choked out. 

He wasn’t taking a tonic. It had never even crossed his mind. 

It should have. 

It should have crossed his mind, especially after everything that had happened with Feyre and Nyx. The risk that Blossom was under right at this moment…

But then he stared at the wings that were slumped on the bed and he swallowed. 

She wasn’t High Fae. She was a Floresco Fairy. She had wings herself. Maybe that would keep her safe from any kind of complications involving his wings. There was to hope for that. 

He took a deep breath, smelling her. Smelling the scent of roses that had always clung to her, now budding with something else. 

The baby. 

And intermixed in that…cedars. His own scent. 

She stared at him, her eyes wide, shining in a spectrum of colours he never quite could get his fingers on. 

“Do you want to know?” Blossom asked him, cocking her head to the side. “I’ll let Marge know to give you back the money for today and you can walk out and forget I even existed.”

He didn’t doubt for one moment that she would. 

She would do that. And he could keep on living his life and forget that this interlude had ever happened. That he had ever gone to a brothel and bedded this female with her glittering wings for months. That he had used her for his own pleasure for money.

That he…that they had created a child together. 

She would let him go and the child, the baby, would grow up a bastard. Just like him. Just like Cassian. 

And that…that was fucking unacceptable.

“You really think I would do that?” He asked her, his voice hoarse, still standing in front of the door. She was seated on that bed, wearing a cream-coloured silken dressing gown. Her wings drooping around her. 

“I think that neither of us planned on this,” Blossom answered quietly.  “And only because I want to keep my baby…” she shrugged. “I made that choice. You didn’t,” she pointed out. Reasonable. Always so reasonable. 

He couldn’t help but stare at her, sitting on the bed, the picture of innocence, with her doll-like features. She was tiny and her features were soft and sweet. Always so sweet. 

It was the reason why more than one customer had gotten rough with her. Marge was very good at getting them out before it happened but Azriel had still seen more than a few bruises on her over the last year. 

“It’s mine,” he said instead and she just nodded, tugging at one ringlet of hair. 

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said once again. “I’ll get a new job…I figure something out.”

He was sure that she would. 

She could do it alone. 

She didn’t need him. 

But…

“And if I…if I want…” he started, the words broken. 

What if…What if he could have her? Not just for these few stolen hours every Thursday evening…if he could have her…every day. If she wouldn’t have her walls up as she had in there, wit he could get to knot the female that giggled at his jokes and grinned at him and let him kiss her and always smelled delighted about it…

If he could have her look at him with…

“What do you want?” She asked him softly. Never pushing. Always giving him the opportunity to give as much as he wanted to. 

“You,” he blurted out, feeling like a young and untried boy. Her. “You and the baby.”

He wanted that baby. He really wanted that baby. 

Children had always been something that he had pushed away into the back of his mind. Something that…

Something that he didn’t think he ever would be able to have to be completely honest. 

But now he could. And he was going to do his damnest not to end like his fucking father. 

His child was not going to spend a single second in a cell under a keep. Or hurt by his half-siblings. 

He was going to take care of his child. 

And of the mother of his child. 

“As?” Blossom asked, her voice sounding doubtful. 

He could understand that. Only because they got along well in this room…where he was the customer and she was in charge of providing him with the “entertainment�� he paid for… didn’t mean that they would work outside of it. 

But Azriel was going to do his damnest to try. 

“My family,” he told her calmly. His family. 

She nearly flinched at the word. And then she sighed. “How do you even want this to look like, Azriel? I am a whore,” she pointed out drily. “And that’s all I’ll ever be.”

“You could be something else 

You could be my wife. The mother of my child,” he shot back. 

She stared at him wide-eyed, but he didn’t care. He would marry her that day if that was what she needed to trust him. 

Marry her and give her full access to his accounts so that she and their baby would be taken care of. There was a pretty penny in there after all. It wasn’t like he had ever actually spent much of the money that Rhys gave him for his job. Unless one counted his weekly interlude with her. 

She hesitated, and he knew why. Knew that she didn’t want to put herself in a vulnerable position. 

“I am not…I don’t want to put you at my mercy,” he struggled to find the right words. “I want to do this together with you. I want to be with you. Without the constraints of this room,” he hurried to explain. “I don’t want to control you. Or to hurt you. Or…do anything to you that you do not want.”

She still mustered him.

“You could do whatever you want, be whatever you want…just not this job. Anything but this,” he tried to explain to her. “I’ll be yours. Just as you’ll be mine.”

He was laying himself bare like that, forcing out these words, but then, slowly a small smile began to brighten her face and she held out a hand for him. 

Small, perfect pale skin, manicured fingernails…so pretty and so delicate. All of her was oh so delicate. 

But he crossed the room and reached for her hand and kneeled down before her, breathing in the scent of her and their baby as she reached out to gently brush his hair out of his face. 

“Are you sure?” She asked then, hesitantly, but he could hear something blubber under the surface. 

“I am sure,” he agreed with her. “Though we’ll need to figure out a housing situation. This isn’t really a space for a baby. And neither is my apartment,” he told her. 

“I am not picky,” she assured him and he looked at her, and then pointedly around the room that was luxuriously appointed. Blossom just shrugged. 

“Tools of the Trade,” she told him drily. “I swear I am not picky. Maybe we could find some small apartment or something…with a garden?”

Floresco Fairie. Of course. 

He could work with that. 

“What’s your real name?” He asked suddenly, still holding her hand and she grimaced. 

“Is Blossom that obviously fake?” She asked him and he just snorted. “It’s Embelia,” she answered him. 

Embelia. 

“My family used to call me Emmie,” she whispered, and that was all he needed to hear before he kissed her, gently, softly, exploring. 

[utterlyotterlyx]

When I Met The Devil

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Two to When I Kissed The Teacher which you can read here.

Summary - Azriel adored everything about you, but there was still certain information that you were keeping from him. Azriel finds out exactly what you've been hiding thanks to a particularly unfortunate visit.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma

It had been three months since Azriel had taken you on your first (of many) dates. Azriel had been so nervous, not sure where to take you that would be able to live up to your expectations, even Nyx had given him some ideas by babbling on about what made you smile in the classroom.

Apparently you loved nature, of course you did, you were from the Spring Court. So Azriel had packed up a picnic and taken you to a garden of wildflowers away from the city to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. You had taken his breath away when you had opened the door to him, you had dressed in a loose fitting pale blue dress with white flowers embellished into the bodice, the sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your hair lay unbound down your back.

That day had been one of the best days of his life, he had gotten to know you beyond your profession and learnt so much about you, but the nagging feeling that you were omitting some truth tugged at him, but not enough for him to make a deal about it. Azriel had kissed you under the stars, he had run his fingers through your hair and kissed you so passionately that you swore the world had stopped moving just so it could watch you

Since then, you had been inseparable.

Azriel showed up at the school each day after that, sometimes in the morning at drop off or in the evening at pick up, sometimes both, and he always brought you flowers or chocolates or anything he could think of that would bring a smile to those lips. He would walk you home, but more often than not he would pull you inside the River House and force you to have dinner with them.

You never objected to his wishes, you enjoyed his hands on you far too much to say no.

Azriel was happy to take things slow with you, you were so gentle and pure, if you wanted to wait years to share a bed with him then he was okay with that. You were worth any wait.

One morning you had opened the door to the school, frowning slightly when you couldn't see Azriel or Feyre and Rhys with little Nyx waiting on the grass. They would have told you if Nyx wasn't well and needed to take the day off unless it was serious, but even then, Azriel still would have showed up on the grass with our without Nyx just to see you.

It plagued your mind all day, and you did your best to conceal your worry from the children and continue as normal, but when it came to home time and none of them were there, you knew something wasn't right.

You had locked the room up quickly and stopped by a healer to pick up some infant friendly tonics just in case Nyx needed anything, bundling the vials in your hands as you rushed down the winding streets of Velaris, allowing your feet to take you where you needed to go whilst your mind reeled with endless possibility.

Lifting the hem of your skirt as you ascended the steps of the River House, you completely missed the scent that haunted your nightmares, too frantic with worry to notice it curling around you like chains. Then you saw the back of his head, shoulder length blonde hair and broad shoulders, and then the scent hit you, one of Spring rain and lifeful earth, and you dropped the vials in your hands onto the floor, not even flinching when they broke and cut through your skin.

The thing in question turned his head to the side and sniffed, smirking with feral delight before he fully turned to you, and you saw nothing else but him and those eyes that had made you do things you didn't want to too many times, they were dark and honed in on their prey. His lips tilted upward and he rose to his feet, and you didn't hear anything anyone else was saying or commanding as he strode across the room and stopped right in front of you. You didn't dare look up, you couldn't, and then his fingers gripped your chin harshly and forced your gaze upward.

"I've been looking for you," the room held a collective breath, his shoes crunched down on the broken glass and the liquid parted under his weight.

You knew that they were all watching you, waiting for you to say something, you averted your gaze to Azriel who was on his feet, fists clenched and glowering at the male who dared to touch you, "Nyx didn't show up to school, I thought he was sick, I was bringing tonics."

Feyre rose to her feet beside Rhys, "It's okay, Y/N," her eyes were soft, she could feel your terror, they all could, and then it seemed like your secret and finally been released from the depths of your shame, "Let go of her, Tamlin."

Tamlin chuckled but didn't take his eyes off of you, he cocked his head to the side and breathed you in, "Don't tell me to take my hands off what is mine," his voice was dangerously low, possession had taken over every part of him and the wolf was coming out to play, "Isn't that right, fiancé?"

"I'm not your fiancé," tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes and Azriel saw how small Tamlin made you feel, your shoulders had curled inward, your entire body was preparing to protect itself against the male who held your head in his hands. You looked to Azriel then, "I ran. I couldn't do it," you blinked hard and your tears flowed down your cheeks.

"Just because you ran doesn't mean that the agreement is void, Flower," you cringed, you felt helpless in his grip, like all of the independence you had worked for was nothing but dust dancing in the breeze, "The Tithe has been particularly awful without you."

Azriel lost it then, he grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder and forced him round, the action making his hand jolt away from your face, and Azriel landed a sickening blow to the side of his face.

"This is not a battle you want to fight, Tamlin," Rhys stood beside Azriel who was panting with fury, he knew what the Tithe was, they all did, and the thought of Tamlin using your unwilling body as a vessel for his sickening ritual was enough to send Azriel into a blind rage.

Azriel bent down to Tamlin's level, noticing Feyre rush to your side as he did to comfort you, and growled, "Touch her again and it won't be a battle, Tamlin. It will be a war."

Tamlin had the gall to grin, "She's my fiancé, Shadowsinger. Not even you can get between that."

"No, but I can," Cassian grabbed Tamlin by the neck of his coat, hauling him to his feet in front of Rhys, "Y/N is a member of the Night Court, she is a cherished member of my family. She is not your mate, so you have no claim on her and you know it. Now, leave my city before I cut your head from your shoulders and leave Spring lordless."

Knowing he wouldn't win on Night Court soil, Tamlin scoffed and headed for the door, not before stopping at your side and letting his gaze roam your figure, "They can't watch you forever. I'll see you soon, Flower."

Then he left.

And you stood standing in Feyre's arms pale and frozen, looking at the broken glass on the floor and shaking your head, "I have to go," you announced, peeling yourself out of Feyre's embrace and feeling like a completely awful friend to her, "I'm sorry."

"Y/N.."

You couldn't stick around and listen to her call your name, you couldn't stay there and witness Azriel looking at you like a stranger. So you ran. You ran all the way home, you didn't stop for a single moment until you closed the door behind you and slid down the wood, bursting into chest wrecking sobs.

If anyone would know who you were, it would be Lucien Vanserra, he was Tamlin's friend after all.

The red haired male found himself dragged before the Inner Circle by Elain, a thing he detested, he had just returned from the human realm and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up with his mate, sitting in front of them was something he wanted to be rid of and fast.

"What do you know about Y/N? She came from the Spring Court," Lucien's eyes widened in saddening alarm at Feyre's question, he looked about the room as if you'd pop out from a corner at any given second.

"She's here?" Feyre nodded, "How is she?"

The question took them by surprise, and confirmed what they already knew, that you certainly we no double agent, but they had to know your story, it was a matter of protecting you, "She could be better. Tamlin was here."

Lucien's eyes darkened into molten lava pools and his nostrils flared, "Did he see her?" the silence confirmed his own query and he looked deflated, his shoulder fell and sadness floated over his face, enough sadness that Elain had moved to his side and wrapped his hand in her own.

"We need to know everything," Rhys ordered, moving his gaze to Azriel who was itching to leave the house and go to you, but even he had to know what had happened.

The Autumn male sighed, feeling conflicted, not wanting to tell your story for you but knowing he had no choice, "Y/N belongs to a very powerful Spring Court family, her father wanted a direct line to Tamlin so offered up his eldest daughter, Y/N, for marriage. Her father was a prick, no doubt still is. He sold Y/N to Tamlin like she was worth nothing more than what she could breed. She tried so hard to put off marrying him, she wanted a long engagement so that she could get to know Tamlin but everyone knew she just wanted more time to find a way out. Then the Tithe came and even I couldn't stop him from taking her into that cave," Lucien looked to Feyre who knew Tamlin all too well to know that what he was saying was nothing but the truth.

"Each year after that first Tithe, he sought her out against her will, you could hear her crying bouncing off of the walls. I couldn't watch it anymore so I helped her escape, I gave her enough money to be able to travel the continent and never heard from her again. I just did all I could to throw him off, to keep him away from her. Y/N was the happiest person in Spring, everyone loved her so much, and Tamlin ruined her."

"Seems like a pattern," Feyre cleared her throat and settled into Rhys' warmth that had wrapped around her like a blanket. She felt horrible, she thought she had it bad, but at least Tamlin never took her against her will like he had done to you repeatedly.

"Feyre I don't want to compare, but you have to understand that what he did to you was not nearly as bad as what he did to her. He took her light away, he forced her into a darkness I've never seen before or seen since, the neglection was sickening, she would cry for days on end, she'd mourn the life she dreamed of. It was unbearable."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, "She made it here though, I knew she'd find where she belonged in the end."

"Why didn't she tell me? I would have understood."

Rhys shushed his mate, he knew how much Feyre loved you, they all did, "Sometimes you don't want to talk about what others made you do," his mind drifted and eyes glazed over as he remembered his own story for a moment, the painful memories tugging at his heartstrings.

Rhys knew how it felt to be used against your own will, he knew how it felt to lie there each night and feel like a worthless pawn in someone else's game. He knew how it felt to work yourself into exhaustion trying to forget the terrors others had willingly inflicted on you.

If anyone could truly understand you, then it would be him. And there was no way he was going to let you lock yourself away and perish with shame when you had a family and life awaiting you.

[achaotichuman]

Recently I delved into the depths of my docs to find the first fanfiction I wrote for ACOTAR that never saw the light of day.

Obviously it's horrible writing, but I like the premise and since I am addicted to piling more projects on top of my scheldule I rewrote the first chapter and redid the plot for it.

Originally these events take place a year or two after the war with Hybern, and everything is the exact same EXCEPT for somethin Tamlin is doing.

I changed it so that this is a fic of what would have happened if Tamlin didn't give over that drop of power to bring Rhysand back.

Anyway, here's there rewritten chapter. Tell me if you guys like it!

“Be happy Feyre.”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth. The carefully loving words that wrapped like ivy around his throat, choking him, those last cords of love that had twisted into something else. That had made him soft for her. He had offered his heart like ripe fruit on a silver platter for her to take and now look at where he stood. 

Bloodied, gore and guts clinging to his armour like a second layer of skin, mud caked on his legs and arms. Hair a mess, dirty and disgusting. His people, his armies, whom he had gone to his knees to earn the trust of them back, after she twisted their minds, undid their memories, stared in every personal thought to create a new story for all of them. One that fit her narrative. 

The damage she had caused, the things she had taken. What she had done, what she had cost not just them but all of Pryhtian. Destroying the Courts she had saved not even a year ago. 

Now, on her knees, holding the man who had assaulted her night after night after night whilst she vomited, cried and danced and laughed, and been drugged. She screamed his name whilst she cling to his lifeless form. 

The good for nothing bastard Lord was finally dead. Tamlin should have breathed a sigh of relief. 

Instead every High Lord stood around awkwardly, as one after the other they had willingly handed over their magic despite what this man had done to them. Despite how much they all hated him. They did it for his grief-stricken mate who screamed for them to help. To bring him back the same way she had come back. 

But he was dead for what he had done. Giving over power to remake the Cauldron, the mother had taken his very soul with the magic, the price paid to put the world back together. 

Truly, who were they to defy her?

Tamlin stood up straight, when Feyre stared up at him, eyes filled with tears as she saw his stone-cold face. 

“Please,” She screamed, “Please I’ll do anything!”

Green eyes cut from her to the other Lords. None made eye-contact with him. All looking elsewhere, anywhere, the grey-red clouds above, the torn battlefield layered with bodies on decaying bodies, the rivers running red with blood. Some of them, no doubt reminded of Amarantha’s reign of terror by the bloodshed, looked to the muddy ground. 

But none dared look in his eye, all knew what she had done to him. Her reasons for doing so. They also all knew what he had done to her. 

But staring down at her now, thinking back on all of it. 

Thinking back on the slander of Court, the destruction of his people. The lying, the scheming, the pure hatred. 

Then there was one final thought that struck true. 

What would they have all done if it had been him dead on the floor and not Rhysand?

The image of his bloodied mother, his dead brothers, even as cruel as they were, flashed before his eyes. 

“No.” He said. Standing tall and true, “I will not hand over my magic.”

“You fucking monster!” A girl with gold streaked blonde hair lunged at him from out of nowhere. Morrigan. 

She didn’t get far, from where she was knees deep in the mud. A flash of gold and a short-sudden scream from her. She was pinned to the floor with golden threads. Not painful, but certainly startling, and no doubt humiliating. 

Tamlin couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Feyre stared up at him. Her wet blue eyes boring into his own with a deep-cut grief that would have broken him just a few weeks ago. 

Now. 

Now all he felt was mild pity, and a distant sadness, for the girl who had been killed under the mountain and never brought back. 

“Who's to say the real Rhysand would even return?” Tamlin said, voice mockingly kind, “When the first time we brought a human back, she was not the same at all?”

Feyre’s saddened eyes turned wrathful, her beautiful face twisting into a deadly scowl. All that hatred, focused solely on him. 

“You were what led me to my death! And now you refuse to even help him!” She screamed, the pain and grief tearing through her, along with the emptiness of where her mating bond used to be no doubt fueling her rage. 

“You led yourself to your death as did he.” Tamlin said, perfectly calm and stoic. She wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Not anymore. 

Tamlin looked to the others, “Think about all that male has done to us. Think of what his mate has brought down upon our lands. And maybe rethink tossing your magic carelessly at whatever dead corpse lays before you.”

“He is not a corpse!” Feyre shrieked. Her cries and screams becoming distant. Vague. As weariness bore heavy on him. For the mortal, the living, unfortunately exhaustion was a natural occurrence. 

Tamlin’s eyes went down to Rhysand. Least he’ll never be exhausted again. 

The thought was cruel, and maybe he was a horrible man for feeling relief. Staring into that lifeless face, knowing he was dead forever. Gone. Bound to never bring him misfortune again. 

“You are a heartless male.” A seething voice said somewhere near him. Tamlin looked towards where a limping Illyrian with blue siphons hissed, looking like he wanted to tear the High Lord to shreds but his own limitations and injuries prevented it. 

A cold, humourless smile broke out on his face. The Spring Lord looked down upon Feyre. 

“Give him your own magic.” He said, tilting his head, “Why don’t you hand over those drops of power you claim to make yourself so, so powerful?”

She was silent, as tears continued to stream down her face, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Oh right, you can’t.”

He would leave after this and never see her face again, he hoped, but he didn’t bite his tongue to prevent the final blow, “Our magic is the only thing holding you together. You claim yourself so powerful. Above the rest of us entirely. The self-proclaimed High Lady of the Night Court, equal to the most powerful in all the Earth. But you really aren’t. You need our magic to survive.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand, and didn’t hide the relief on his face, “You can’t bring him back without us.”

The Nightmare was gone. Now all that was left was the cleanup. 

Feyre screamed, whether it was an insult, her hatred or simply incoherent, he didn’t know. He winnowed away. Back to Spring. 

It was time for a cleanup. 

And he had plans to make things right in his Court. In Prythian in its entirety. 

***

I probably will not continue this fic since I have so much I need to write already, but I think its fun to go back and reflect on my old ideas and rewrite to compare to how my form was before and how it is now.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 1 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Don't hesitate to let me know if you prefer the OC to become y/n and/or gender neutral.

Also, I apologize for any mistakes you might find, I'm just a French girl doing her best with Google Translate and her average score of 5 in English classe.

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Number of words : 2 029

Chapter 1

When they had entered the luxurious home of Feyre and her sisters, Tamlin and Lucien made themselves invisible with their power and were surprised to find that Rhysand and his two brothers did the same. They hid in the shadows of the great hall to avoid worrying Feyre's two sisters.

Nesta was at the top of the stairs and Elain was facing Feyre, but Feyre was just looking for the one person she really came for. The one person who always really loved her : Luxiana.

“She's not here,” says Nesta bitterly. 

The older sister knew she'd done nothing to deserve Feyre's affection, but to see her enter her home, unannounced, just to look for Luxiana, made her angry. 

“Where is she?” asked a worried Feyre.

Tamlin put an invisible hand on the young Archeron's shoulder to remind her of his presence and to show her his affection. He was there for her and he understood how much Feyre cared for Luxiana. All she did was talk about her, to the great despair of Tamlin, who hated the blonde who is his wife's best friend. 

This girl had managed to get through all the magical defenses of his court to infiltrate his palace. She was only a human, yet she'd been smarter than Tamlin the day she'd come for her best friend. If Feyre had followed her then, the curse might never have been broken and Tamlin and her court would still have that cursed mask on their faces.

Feyre had no time to receive a reply from anyone before the front door of the Archerons' manor, behind the fae, opened.

All eyes turned to see a blonde woman with hair so light it was almost white, rushing into the great hall.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel, so far bored by the scene unfolding before them, froze. Their breaths caught in their chests and their eyes widened. In front of them, closing the door, stood the most beautiful woman they'd ever met of any species. Before them stood their soulmate. 

They were sure of it. Rhys had to use all his calm and control not to release his power and reveal himself at the risk of frightening everyone. Cassian trembled and had to take a step back. Azriel was petrified, his heart frozen and his breathing stopped. 

For the three Illyrians, it was as clear as the starry night sky in their court. They never thought they'd be sure at first glance that they'd met their soulmate, but they were. It was their instincts that drew them to her, their bodies that burned with the desire to touch her, their magics that boiled and exploded in her presence and their thoughts that screamed that she was their soulmate.

A bond was forged between them four. A golden thread perceptible only in their minds and magics. A link that connected them directly to this woman. A link that connected the three of them to a human. 

Suddenly, they realized. A feeling, a certainty assured  it to them.  As if it had been obvious all along, as if they always had the answer at their fingertips without ever really knowing it. Fate brought them together, made them best friends and brothers to give them the same soulmate.  Everything they ever experienced, their relationship and their unbreakable bond with their brothers went far beyond simple affection. They were simply destined to be together and to be brothers, for her. For this woman. Everything had led them to this moment. To her. 

She was their mate. 

She held her pale pink petticoats in her hands and her breathing was jerky as if she'd just been running. Her arms were bare and her corset of the same pattern as those petticoats was the only layer of clothing she wore on her back. Her long hair was gathered in a roughly undone braid and her breath was visible. She must have gone out unprotected in this freezing cold, and her flushed cheeks under the light freckles that paced her nose and cheekbones only confirmed their assumptions. 

The young woman was shaking all over her body, and if Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel hadn't been so petrified by the shock, they would have thrown themselves on her to warm her up. 

Despite her obvious coldness, the girl raised an electric blue gaze at Feyre, finally noticing the presence of someone in front of her. Her eyes weren't even directed at them, yet Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel felt as if they were electrocuted. These blue circles enchanted them and they only wanted her to look at them with it.

The young woman's arms released her petticoats and fell limply down her body. Her eyelids widened and her mouth opened. Tears began to bead at the corners of her eyes, which shone with a thousand sparkles.

“Feyre,” she breathed with a rush.

“Luxiana,” cried Feyre, taking a step towards her best friend.

“Luxiana.” The name echoed in the minds of the three brothers like an enchanting spell, filling them with a bunch of new feelings. She seemed to be the answer to all their questions. Luxiana. Luxiana. Luxiana. They wanted to touch her, feel her, talk to her, make her laugh, possess her and love her. 

Luxiana lunged at Feyre, jumping on her and taking her in her arms. Feyre grabbed her best friend and spun her around. Their laughter rose up in the hall and quickly filled the space, bouncing off the walls.

But it was in the bodies and souls of Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel that Luxiana's laughter resonated the most. The sound vibrated them from side to side. They were almost on their knees before this girl when she hadn't even spoken to them yet. 

Luxiana put her foot down and moved far enough away from Feyre to admire her face. Feyre was slightly taller, as Luxiana first noticed. She frowned for a moment in incomprehension, but nothing could dampen her joy at seeing the best friend she'd never thought she'd find again. Her heart felt like it had found its other half.

“You're here.” Luxiana sobbed. “You're okay.” 

Big tears dripped down the blonde's flushed cheeks, and the same were streaming down Feyre's face. Luxiana took Feyre's head in her hands to touch it, to make sure her best friend was really there, in front of her. The hood that almost completely covered Feyre's face fell back. Luxiana didn't notice her best friend's changed face right away, too focused on trying to verify that it wasn't a dream, but Luxiana's fingers met Feyre's pointed ears. 

Luxiana petrified. She lost her smile almost instantly as she stepped back sharply. Surprise and fear distorted her face as she stared at what she thought was a stranger with the same features as her best friend.

“Who are you?” asked Luxiana with a gleam of panic in her eyes.

It was a fae standing in front of her, and she took on her best friend's features to fool her. 

Elain's exclamation of surprise, forcing her to take a step back and clamp her hand over her mouth, Nesta's wide eyes and then her grimace of disgust, as well as Luxiana's fear, tore Feyre's heart apart. 

Nesta hurried down a few steps, but stopped when she saw Luxiana cross the room in a blink to position herself in front of Elain to protect her. 

At the sight of this gesture, Feyre's sobs accentuated and she cried loudly. She would never hurt her three sisters, and it killed her that her new form made them think otherwise.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel could only admire the bravery of this young human woman who had just noticed a fae in her home and had stepped in to protect one of the girls. 

“It's me, your best friend. I swear,” Feyre implored. 

She slowly reached out a hand to her three sisters facing her.

“Please,” she begged.

Luxiana relaxed a little. The pain she could see in this fae’s eyes was far too real to be fake, and she couldn't understand why a fae would pretend to be her best friend as a fae and not as a human.

“Prove it,” ordered Luxiana, lifting her chin and looking at the fae suspiciously. “What did we do on June fifth, two years ago, that only Feyre and I can know about?”

Despite her tears, Feyre laughed.

“What happened in that barn must stay in that barn,” she laughed, her eyes shining.

Luxiana took a deep breath. That fae was her best friend. She started to cry again, this time from sadness. What could have happened to her little Feyre for her to turn into a fae? She must have suffered so much.

“Feyre,” cried the blonde, throwing herself back into her arms. “What's happened to you?”

“I'll explain everything,” promised Feyre, pulling her hood back over her head. 

Luxiana took her by the hand and led her into the living room, where she seated Feyre on the sofa and settled down beside her, never breaking contact. Her two sisters followed at a distance, and finally sat down at the opposite of them, on the other side of the small living-room table, still looking at her with shock and suspicion.

Out of the corner of her eye, Feyre saw the door open discreetly, indicating that Tamlin and the others had disappeared to leave them the privacy of their reunion. Feyre felt relieved for a moment; she didn't want to have to talk about what she'd been through under the mountain in front of the lord of the night court, whom she didn't like very much.

Feyre explained everything that had happened to her in great detail. Her imprisonment, the murders, Rhysand, her death, her resurrection... everything.  She forced herself to fight back the feelings of anguish and sadness that compressed her stomach at the memories that flooded her mind as she talked about the events.

Nesta remained impassive throughout, but a glimmer of pity lingered in her eyes. Elain was still surprised, but her eyebrows were furrowed with sadness. That said, it was Luxiana's reaction that tore Feyre's heart. She had placed her hand over her mouth and although she hadn't interrupted her throughout, silent tears had never stopped flowing down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and pure guilt reigned in there.

Luxiana felt guilty. If she'd listened to herself, if she'd followed her, she could have joined her under the mountain, she could have saved her. Luxiana had promised herself she would always protect the people she loved, and she failed with Feyre. 

Luxiana threw herself into Feyre's arms and apologized, crying her eyes out. The hearts of the two best friends felt as if they were being torn apart with such force that a real pain in their chests almost made them fold in two. 

Feyre refused her apology, stipulating that she had no regrets and that everything was better now. When the two had calmed down and stopped crying, Feyre asked for their help. 

Nesta initially refused to receive the queens and other immortals in her home, stipulating that it would destroy their reputation and a marriage between Elain and a man. Feyre might have been concerned, but she knew that Luxiana would never have let her sister marry an evil man.

“Nesta,” scolded Luxiana with a stern face. “We've got to help Feyre, there will be no wedding or anyone to celebrate it if this king manages to destroy the wall!”

Feyre had noticed that Luxiana no longer looked at her sisters with the same animosity as before, and although she was relieved by this realization, a part of her that told herself that the three of them had grown closer in her absence was jealous. Jealous that Luxiana had managed to be loved by her sisters more than she had. Jealous that her sisters were stealing her best friend.

“Lux is right,” Elain whispered to her big sister. “Feyre has helped us all these years, now it's up to us to return the favor.”

Nesta huffed, then agreed. They even agreed to meet the fae who had accompanied Feyre for further details. 

[roseadleyn]

rhysand and nyx but put it along the lines of jan van eck and wylan hendriks, please and thank youu

hold my hand and walk with me here. nyx growing up with not as much power or any desire for power and it royally pisses off amren, ( who i don't think even cares abt the ic other than power ) but rhys and feyre are still like,, it's okay, he's a child. and then nyx is 8 and rhys and feyre are both stressed asf because what to do? nesta and elain and azriel are all hellbent that nyx should never go to an illyrian war camp and rhys and feyre don't know what to do, they don't want to send him but think nyx will be fine. and nyx ends up going to the camp and he's beaten by every corner, trying to be shaped into a 'warrior'. and the camp lords are especially vicious and they take out their frustration with rhysand on him

and little nyx sees how amren sneers at 'powerless' people and how his dad is so powerful, how sometimes there's disappointment in his father's eyes when he looks at him and he never says a word. and then nyx is 16 and hardened from the blood rite and his family is so furious, but what can they do? they are the ones who never bothered to fix the illyrians' issues.

anyways nyx makes some friends at the illyrian camps,. there's a girl with dark eyes and brown skin and her wings are clipped, but she can walk any high rope and moves like shadow. and there's a weirdly pale boy who's been trapped in hewn city his whole life but managed to run away when the gates were tilted slightly open because he's a thief who can escape from anywhere. there's the beautiful girl who's a daughter of a hewn city noble and ran away with the boy so they won't use her magic for their twisted purposes. there's the tall blonde boy who was the only survivor of the winter court's children massacre and has spent his whole life training for revenge. and the poor illyrian boy who shields nyx from the worst of the war camps and guides him through it all ( yes these are the crows god what did u guys expect )

and when nyx finds out the role his beloved parents have played in how everyone, his friends have suffered.. WELL SIX DANGEROUS OUTCASTS ONE IMPOSSIBLE HEIST ROLL SIX OF CROWS INTRO

anyways i MIGHTT... write this someday but. dropping this here for thoughts

[thatacotargirl]

Hello! I read your cassian x reader period fic and absolutely loved it! I had a request if you don't mind...

one with cassian where maybe reader has been a part of the inner circle for a while and because of this her and cassian have been really really close friends for centuries…but one day on the streets reader locks eye with a male who is her mate…but the male is not cassian just some random person…and she is ecstatic that she has finally found her mate and someone she will be able to spend the rest of her life with because even though she has had a major crush on cassian…she knows he will never return those feelings because she finds herself incomparable and insignificant compared to cassian…however later on the male wants to reject the bond because he doesn't find the reader attractive and mocks her and all…she goes crying back home and cassian finds out and comforts her…maybe months later after the bond with the other male was broken…she finds that the mother has given her a new mating bond…that connects her to the one she has always loved…Cassian❤️

Hi!! Thank you so much for your support! And I LOVE your idea - I hope you like what I’ve done with it!

Inbox is always open for requests ❤️

Seconds Chances

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

The day that Rhysand saved you from the Autumn Court ranks up there with some of the best days of your life. Also up there is the day that he introduced you as a member of his Inner Circle, and your eyes first lay on Cassian.

You didn’t think there was a single person in all of Prythian who would deny Cassian’s beauty. He was in an entirely different league to any male or female you had met before. What started as lust developed into a crush and, over the centuries, turned into feelings you couldn’t quite describe. Although really, they could be summed up quite easily. You had fallen in love with Cassian.

You were sure Cassian did not return those feelings, but you truthfully didn’t mind. You didn’t want anything to risk destroying the friendship that you had with him. Cassian was the first there to pick you back up when you fell, to dry your tears and make you laugh again, to support you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. It wasn’t a surprise that you ended up falling in love with him. He cared for you in a way no one ever had before, and you were so grateful to have him in your life, even if you knew it would never be how you truly wanted him.

That was why, when you were walking the streets of Velaris after dropping off a letter for Rhysand, you were ecstatic to lock eyes with a blonde male and feel the snap in your chest as the bond clicked into place. After a brief exchange, you agreed to meet for dinner that night, and you rushed back to the River House to get ready.

-

“I found my mate!”, you screeched, running through the River House door. Feyre caught your hands and steadied you.

“You what?!”, she replied, eyes wide.

“I found my mate!!!”, you repeat, practically bouncing in her arms with excitement. Feyre grinned and pulled you into a hug as several bodies appeared behind the pair of you.

“Your mate?”.

You looked over Feyre’s shoulder and straight at Cassian. His face was contorted slightly, almost like he was in pain. You quickly raked up and down his body looking for injuries, but you couldn’t see anything obvious.

“That is wonderful news!”, Rhys smiled, reaching over to pull you into a hug. “I knew the Night Court was the right place for you”. He winked as he let you go, and your friends took it in turns to share their congratulations and shower you with hugs and affection. Cassian approached, a forced smile on his face as he pulled you in for a bear hug.

“I’m so happy for you”, he said. He sounded genuine, but there was something empty about it. You knew that he had hoped a few females over the years had turned into his mate, including one of Feyre’s sisters, but the Mother hadn’t yet blessed him. It must be hard for him to see his friends’ mating bonds snap and not his own.

“Thank you”, you smiled, breathless from all the love of your family. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for a date with my mate”. You beamed as you bounced up the stairs, closely followed by Feyre and Mor who insisted on helping you get ready.

-

Your family waved you off as you left for your date. You chuckled to yourself. They were almost more excited for you than you were for yourself!

As you approached the restaurant, you saw your mate standing by the door. The closer you got, however, the more you felt a deep void in your chest. You tugged the bond as you approached him, a gasp leaving your lips as you realise your figurative hands come up short, the bond no where to be found. Your raise your head to meet his, and his eyes hold an evil gleam.

“You must be stupider than you look if you thought I was going to accept a bond with you”.

You freeze. This wasn’t the same male you spoke with this morning, was it? Seeing your confusion, he takes a step towards you, looming over you in a way so intimidating it made you whimper.

“Look at you. I would be the most foolish man alive to saddle myself with you for all eternity”.

Whilst you did still stick out at the Night Court, quite clearly heralding from different lands, you knew you weren’t unattractive. At least, you didn’t think you were?

You couldn’t bear his smirk any longer. You tried to pull the bond one more time and he noticed.

“It’s gone. Maybe now the Mother will realise the error of her ways and give me a second chance”.

Your heart broke.

You turned on your heels and ran for the River House.

-

Your family were not expecting you back from your date so soon, so when they heard you come thundering through the front door they all stood abruptly from their chairs. You looked in at them, faces full of concern and sorrow, and couldn't bear the pity. You fled up the stairs to the guest room and slammed the door behind you.

It was only a few minutes later that you heard someone knock at the door and Cassian's scent flooded in. He didn't wait for your reply. He walked over to the bed, sat, and pulled you onto his lap. You leaned into his chest and sobbed.

"What happened?".

"He broke the bond. He said only a foolish man would want to be saddled with me".

Cassian's heart hurt as he held you cried harder, soaking his shirt with your tears. He held you closer, trembling with anger that some male you met on the street could reduce you to tears like this, could take advantage of your kind heart, could throw away the one thing that he had prayed to the Mother every night could be his - your heart. He had wished for centuries for you, for your love, to be yours. This male had it in the palm of his hands and had thrown it away.

"What's wrong with me?", you asked quietly, avoiding his gaze.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are perfect", Cassian replied back softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Then why didn't he want me?", your voice broke as you whispered the question.

Cassian had no answer. He only held you closer and let you cry in his arms.

8 months later

With the help of your family, you had slowly begun to heal. Your heart was mended piece by piece with each bit of love and care they showered you with. Cassian was by your side every spare moment he had, doing everything in his power to make you smile, laugh. It was music to his ears. You had also resumed your duties to the Night Court, after Rhys had insisted you take a prolonged vacation to focus on yourself and your healing.

It was at one of these Night Court meetings that your life changed forever.

You were characteristically late to the monthly Inner Circle meeting, having spent far too long in the library that morning. You ran into the room, out of breath, giving a sheepish and apologetic smile to Rhys. You went to take your seat beside Mor when you heard Cassian's sharp intake of breath. You looked up at him and felt it. The snap. It was so powerful you could have sworn the entire room heard it. Your eyes locked with Cassian's as you heard Feyre gasp, realising what had happened.

"Looks like the Mother gave you that second chance", Rhys smiled, pulling Feyre into his side as they watched the pair of you process what had just happened.

"My mate", Cassian whispered.

"My mate", you replied, breathless.

Within seconds, Cassian had cleared the table, swooped you into his arms, and walked out the room with you.

"I take it we need to reschedule, Cass?", Rhys called after the pair of you, amused.

Neither of you replied, simply gazing at each other as he carried you up the stairs.

"I prayed to the Mother for you every day for centuries", Cassian confessed, tears filling his eyes. Yours mirrored, as you reached up a hand to hold his cheek.

"I prayed for you too, Cassian".

[tsunami-of-tears]

But Daddy I Love Her

Mor x Vanserra!Reader (sapphic)

A/N: IMO this is some of my best writing yet. Thank you to the anon who requested some angst with Mor. I’ve been wanting to write some more sapphic stuff, so this was fun 💕  Also thank you to @daycourtofficial for being my sounding board ✨ As you can tell I didn’t go with either title option we discussed 😘

Wordcount: 4.4K

Warnings: Female Reader; Angst; Beron being Beron; Controlling father dynamic; visit to the Court of Nightmares; coming out; canon homophobia + patriarchal bullsh!t.

Reader

Your father was a complex character, to say the least. 

He was every bit the callous ruler that he portrayed to the world, but inside his blackened, hateful heart there was a soft spot. You. His only daughter.

While your brothers were pitted against each other and forced to fight for his approval, you couldn’t do much wrong. 

He was protective of you to a fault. So much so, that you were never allowed to court anyone. No one was good enough for his precious pup. Not that you were very interested in males anyway, having grown up with a litter of brothers. You found males irritating at the best of times, and utterly repulsive at the worst. 

You were closest to Beron’s eldest and youngest sons – Eris and Lucien. They were very protective of you too, but in more of an annoying way. They always had your best interests at heart. 

You were never allowed out of the Forest House unsupervised. Adventuring with your brothers was the only time you got let off your leash. You could run with the hounds, fish in the stream with Lucien or just simply be – relaxing under a tree, reading aloud to Eris. 

You often dreamed of a world where you were free. Free from your father’s strict rule. Free to do as you please. Free to be whoever you wanted to be. 

But alas, this was not a world for the dreamers. 

————

The conflict with Hybern was drawing nearer and your father was summoned to attend a meeting with the six other High Lords of Prythian. 

Your entire family was to attend, to showcase the strength of Beron’s brood.

You enter the meeting room together, sticking close to Eris and trying to seem confident, bored even. You keep your head held high, ignoring your brothers’ sneers beside you. 

“Enough” Eris murmurs, calling all three brothers in line. 

You take in the grand room around you, and the wealth of power convened within. 

You recognise most faces from Under the Mountain but some were new to you, their allegiance given away by the shades of midnight blue and black that they wore - the Night Court. The Court that your father despises the most. The Court you were raised to hate.

The High Lord, Rhysand, sat with a casual grace, his great taloned wings stretched out behind him. Beside him was his High Lady, Feyre - the saviour of Prythian - in a glittering dress that looked like it was made of pure starlight.

They were a beautiful couple, and you wonder how evil the male could truly be if he proclaimed his wife as his equal, something that had never been done in all of Prythian’s history. 

The rulers of the Night Court meet your curious gaze; for a second there is understanding on their faces and you have to remind yourself not to smile. 

You break their stare and your eyes flit over two more winged males and a female who shared the same golden hair and blue-grey eyes as Feyre before they settled on a blonde female. 

To describe her as breathtaking would be an understatement. 

She needed no introduction. Not with the rage upon her face as she watched your family, the pure venom in her eyes.

The Morrigan.

You’d never met the female your eldest brother was formerly betrothed to, and he never spoke about her. 

Morrigan’s fury wanes as she looks at you. For a moment you can see behind the mask she was wearing. You can feel the pain underneath, you can see the love for her family and her Court. Only for a moment before she built that wall back up again, sealing herself within. 

You knew her anger towards your family was justified and you couldn’t help but empathise with that. Like so many women, your mother included, she’d been dealt a losing hand.

You successfully kept your eyes off Morrigan for the remainder of the meeting, remembering the role you had to play – the shy, pretty pawn of the Autumn Court. 

If you failed at this game, the results would be devastating.

————

After the meeting ended so terribly, you were hiding out in Eris’s quarters, avoiding the path of Beron’s temper. The pair of you were curled up in front of the crackling fire with Clove, your favourite hound, asleep in your lap. 

Eris has been quiet since returning from the Dawn Court. His mind was surely racing after the encounter with her. 

You turn towards your brother slowly, breaking the silence, “You never mentioned how beautiful she is. You never speak about her at all.”

Eris knew exactly who you meant. “What’s there to say?” He shrugs, “She’s free from the burden of being with me in this festering court.”

“You think so low of yourself, Eris. Someone will be very fortunate to have you doting on them one day.” 

Eris wraps his arm around you and kisses the top of your head affectionately. “Until then it’s just you and me, bright spark.”

You smile at his nickname for you, one he gave you when you were just a faeling. “Don’t forget Clove!” You exclaim, ruffling the hound’s coat.

————

In the months following the final battle against Hybern, Eris spent a lot of time in the Night Court, working to secure a strong alliance for Autumn. 

Eris was about to head off again, to a ball at the infamous Court of Nightmares. 

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Morrigan. 

You needed to see her again, but she’d never step foot in Autumn. 

You’d have to go to her. 

By the grace of the Cauldron, Beron said yes to you attending the ball with Eris. You were both so stunned by his answer, that you were lost for words. Before dismissing you both, your father had one order for Eris: Do not let her out of your sight.

And so you found yourself in the Night Court, deep inside the Court of Nightmares.

You did your best to bite down on your anxiety as you walked up the dimly lit hallway leading to the ballroom. The intricate carvings of beasts on the walls only add to your feeling of unease. 

You breeze through the large doors, arm-in-arm with your brother. The two of you are the epitome of Autumn. 

Eris wears a suit in a deep burgundy colour, much like the spiced wine you drink to warm your belly on a crisp evening. Your gown of burnt orange swishes around you as you walk, the sequins catching in the faelights, twinkling like the embers of a dwindling fire. 

All eyes turn to you as you walk down the aisle, but you don’t notice them. 

All you see is her, and that golden thread connecting your souls, sealing your fate.

Oh no.

Oh no no no. 

Panic floods your veins as you realise who you’re walking towards. 

Your mate. 

Your brother’s ex-fiancé. Your father’s enemy.

Not her, it can’t be her.

Not here, with so many people watching. 

Your feet slow to a stop halfway to the dais and you turn to Eris. Concern flickers on his face - he can sense something is wrong, he has no idea just how bad it is.

You drop his arm, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’, before disappearing into the air. 

You don’t know where you’re headed or what you will do next. All you know is you need to leave. Now. And get someone safe. 

The thought, somewhere safe, echoes through your mind as you appear in a clearing atop a mountain. 

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, making the sky glow a brilliant shade of orange. The air is cold against your skin, and you rub your hands on your biceps in an attempt to regain some warmth. In moments like these, you are thankful for the fire within your veins. 

You look around, attempting to glean your location. You spot a cabin on the other side of the clearing. As you turn towards it, the front door swings open. An invitation. 

You approach the open door and wonder if there’s a spell on the cabin, tricking you into a false sense of safety to lure you inside to your death. 

You glance around, the only movement you spy is the rustling of leaves in the wind. 

You peek inside and see the small dwelling is well-maintained, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone home. It looks comfortable and homey, with whimsical paintings of vines and flowers framing the door.

Whatever is inside that cabin can’t be worse than the wrath you surely face back in Autumn, so you step over the threshold. 

————

Rhysand

Rhys watches intently as his guests from Autumn walk towards the dais. 

Eris is his usual cocky self, strutting beside his sister. Every bit the High Lord’s heir. Y/N looks like a living fire, glowing as she walks beside her brother. Despite being siblings, there were clear differences between the two fae. Unlike Eris, who Rhys found to be insufferable at times, Y/N had a kind warmth to her. A sweetness that somehow hadn’t been soured by her father over the years. 

She was like the flames that dance in a hearth. The kind of fire used to warm a home or cook a comforting meal that chases away the cold and loneliness. 

Of course, those flames could still burn you if you got too close. 

Y/N stops in the middle of the room. Her eyes not moving from Rhys’s cousin, stood beside his throne. 

‘Something is wrong,’ Feyre says into his mind. 

Rhys quickly throws a glamour over his guests, shielding them and his Inner Circle from the rest of his court. 

Rhys glances at Mor, whose eyes are glued to the flame incarnate before her. 

The expression on Y/N’s face is pure terror as she disappears into a cloud of smoke. 

Eris grabs at the wisps of darkness but it’s too late. Y/N is gone. His eyes are filled with panic as he turns back to Rhys. 

“You Vanserras love to put on a show.” Rhys drawls. “How did she get out past the wards?”

Eris rakes his fingers through his hair, tousling the slicked strands. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know she could winnow.”

Rhys clicks his tongue, “It seems the little fox was hiding some tricks.”

Eris looks Rhys in the eye. “We need to find her,” He says. 

Rhys raises a brow at the Autumn heir. “We?” 

“Beron will kill us all if she’s gone missing. His only order was not to let her out of my sight.” Eris shakes his head in shock.

‘Azriel, go. See if your shadows can find her.’ Rhys orders his spymaster mind-to-mind before the male vanishes into the shadows.

“If she’s still in this court, we’ll find her,” Rhys says calmly, expertly masking his concern that the Jewel of Autumn vanished while in his court. “Let’s go, we can continue this little chat somewhere without an audience.” He rises to his feet, dropping the shield and addressing his court. “I’m afraid I have to leave you to play amongst yourselves. Keir, don’t make too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

Rhys strides out of the ballroom with Feyre by his side. Eris follows behind closely with Cassian and Mor on his tail. 

————

Once out of view, Rhys takes Eris’s hand and winnows him to the Moonstone Palace on top of the mountain. Rhys heads straight to one of the living rooms, opting for somewhere more comfortable to continue the conversation. He silently requests Nuala bring up a tea service as he sits comfortably in one of the plush armchairs. 

Eris slumps down in the chair opposite Rhys, rubbing his temples. His complexion has paled to a colour much like the white stone walls of the palace. Eris’s usual swagger and charm disappeared with his sister. 

“I shouldn’t have agreed to bring her,” Eris sighs, hands ruffling his red hair.

“I’m surprised Beron let her out of the palace,” Rhys admits. As much as he detests the male, he can’t help but feel sorry for him. 

“No one is more surprised than me,” Eris says. “She was the one who asked to come. When Y/N really wants something, not even my father can say no.” Eris smiles softly, as if picturing his sister’s compelling arguments.  

Rhys nods in thanks to Nuala as she sets down a tea service. He starts pouring a cup for Eris as he turns towards him. “What happened then?” Rhys asks. “Y/N looked as if she’d seen a ghost.”

“The bond snapped,” a female voice says from the doorway. 

Both Rhys and Eris’s eyes snap to Mor as she strides across the room and sits across from them on the sofa. 

“What bond? And who with?” Cassian asks from behind her. 

“With me,” Mor says quietly.

Rhys can’t keep the shock from his face. “But you’re…” He trails off, gesturing at Mor’s figure. 

Mor just sighs, “Cousin, I’ve always known that I preferred the company of females. That’s why he, you know.” She risks a glance at Eris who is meticulously masking his real feelings as he sips on his tea.

“Cauldron, I didn’t think I was that bad,” Cassian jokes.  

Mor rolls her eyes and nods her head towards Eris. “He knew. That’s why he didn’t touch me.  That day on the autumn border, Eris gave me my freedom. I let you believe him to be horrible because I wasn’t ready to embrace that part of myself, truthfully I’m still not.” Feyre places her hand on Mor’s arm as she makes her admission. 

“We’d never judge you for that, Mor,” Rhys says sincerely. 

“It’s been instilled in me since I was a faeling, the fear is not something one forgets easily,” Mor shrugs.  

“When did it snap for you?” Eris asks, his face still void of emotion. 

“At the High Lord’s meeting,” Mor responds. “That’s the only reason I came today, hoping to see her again. I know Beron would never let her be with me, but I still had some shred of hope. Clearly, he’s poisoned her view of me…” 

“He hasn’t,” Eris interrupts. “You’re not a frequent topic of conversation, and Y/N never asked about you until after that meeting. She never said, but I suspect it’s why she wanted to come today. In some ways, she’s lucky that she’s been so sheltered. She’s still kind. She saw how all of you acted that day, she saw through the masks. My father’s only weakness is her. Beron is completely blind where Y/N is involved. He will start a war if we don’t find her.” 

“We’ll find her,” Rhys says. “Do you have any idea where she would go?”

Eris rubs his chin as he contemplates. “She doesn't ever go anywhere unsupervised. She loves being in the forest, but there’s no way she could transport herself that far.” 

“I’ve got Azriel searching,” Rhys says. “There’s not much more you can do right now. You can stay here, I’ll show you to your suite.” 

Eris nods, “Thank you, but if you think I will sleep while my baby sister is missing, you are sorely mistaken.” 

Rhys smirks back at the male. “Oh I know, but this way you can sulk in private.”

————

Eris

Eris is pacing in his room when there’s a soft knock on the door. He exhales before opening the door to the blonde female in the hall. Eris folds his arms across his chest and inclines his head, inviting her inside. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell them the truth,” Mor says. “I’ve been lying to myself for so long, I’d convinced myself that part of me didn’t exist.”

“There’s always got to be a villain, I understand why you did it. But thank you for apologising.”

“This bond... It is not going to go well with your father.”

Eris nods, agreeing with her. “We’ll deal with that later. When I’m High Lord, you’ll be welcome in Autumn again, if you ever wish to return.”

“Will you have me over for tea?” Mor scoffs. “I don’t know how this will work with Y/N or if she even wants it. But I’d like to try if she does.” 

Eris straightens defensively. “I’ll support whatever will make her happy,” He says. 

The pair stand in silence for a few moments before Eris smiles sadly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known,” He laughs. “When she was a child, she never wanted me to play as a prince, we both were princesses… As she grew, she never took much interest in courting anyone. If Beron had forbade me or my brothers there would’ve been a riot on his hands. But Y/N was never phased by it. Truthfully, I think she was relieved.” 

Mor returns his smile. “I’m glad she has you. We’ll find her, don’t worry too much.” 

————

Reader

In the cabin, you stare at the eyes on the wall. You would know them anywhere. 

You knew your mate had been here, maybe it was even her cabin. Deep down, your heart knew you’d be safe here. 

You feel so tired, right to your core. You didn’t know you could winnow, your leash had been so tight you never even tried. Mother knows how far you just travelled. 

A steaming cup of tea appears in your hands, the scent of cinnamon and chamomile reminding you of home. Somehow, the cabin knew what would calm you down.

You pull a blanket around your shoulders and sit on the lounge, worn with decades of use, admiring the colourful paintings adorning the walls and every surface. You can tell this place is well-loved, and many happy moments have been spent here. 

Exhaustion nags at you and you fight your drooping lids until you can’t any longer. You slip into the darkness of sleep, wrapped in the blanket, with your mate watching over you. 

————

You’re woken by a cool sensation on your ankle. You look down and see a wisp of shadows wreathing around. It circles a few times before disappearing into the air. 

It’s early in the morning, the first light creeping over the mountains outside. You’re still wearing your ball gown, the fabric creased from your slumber. 

Your head spins as you remember the events of the night before. 

‘How long have I been sleeping? Oh gods, Eris must be going out of his mind…’

A sharp knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. 

You stand slowly, stretching your stiff limbs and go to answer it – for a moment you forget it’s not your house.

One of Rhys’s winged friends stands on the porch. “Y/N, are you okay?” He looks you up and down, taking in your dishevelled hair and wrinkled dress. “You’re not injured? And how did you get inside?”

“I’m okay, I guess. The door opened for me. It felt safe.” 

The male nods, “Eris is worried about you, I’ve just let Rhys know I found you and you’re unharmed.”

“Thank you,” You say. 

“Mor wants to speak to you, is that okay?”

You nod in answer, “Yeah, we probably need to have a chat.”

“She’ll be here soon, can I get you anything?” He offers.

You shake your head, pulling the blanket further around you. 

“Okay, stay inside, she’ll be here soon.” 

————

Eris

Keeping to his word, Eris didn’t sleep at all. He was watching the sunrise breaking over the mountains when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” Eris calls out. 

Rhys enters the room. “Azriel found her, she’s safe, Mor has gone to bring her back.” 

Every cell Eris was tensing is released at Rhys’s words. He tries to roll his shoulders but they are stiff after a tense night.  

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Eris asks. “She ran because of the mating bond.”

“Mor wanted to speak to her privately. They are the only ones who understand.”

Eris nods, feeling relieved that his sister has been found. He’ll be able to rest once he lays eyes on her again. “Thank you, for helping,” He says. 

Rhys waves a hand dismissively. “It does work in my favour to return her safely,” Rhys drawls. “But I would do it anyway.” He turns to leave, “You should eat something, it’s been a long night and we have much to discuss now.”

————

Reader

You do your best to freshen up while you wait. You smooth out your hair and change into some fresh clothes summoned by the cabin – a soft v-neck camisole, cropped at the navel and flowing harem pants, more skin than you’ve ever shown outside your bathing room. The matching set is a brilliant shade of forest green that perfectly complements your hair. 

A knock sounds on the door, announcing your mate's arrival. 

“Hello Morrigan,” you say stiffly, unsure where to look or where to put your hands. You settle with holding them clasped at your front to stop their trembling.

“Just Mor if you like, can we talk?” 

You nod and sit across from each other, the air hangs heavily around you.

Mor sighs, breaking the tense silence. “I guess it snapped for you?”

You nod, the words not making it past your lips. 

“This is a cruel twist of fate,” She laughs darkly, leaning forward on her knees.

“Do you not want it?” You ask, trying to hide the hurt in your voice.

“No,” Mor answers quickly. “That’s not what I meant. With my history and our fathers, I don’t see how it could work.”

Why beat around the bush, you suppose? “What happened, with my brother?”

Mor looks at you curiously. “He never told you?”

You shake your head. 

“We were amicable, not quite friends, never lovers. I confided in him about my preference for–” She waves at you. “Female companionship… and that I didn’t want to be someone’s wife. Of course, my father had other plans. I ruined them by… sullying myself, and my father dumped me on the border of your court. I’ll spare you the grizzly details right now, but your brother gave me my freedom. I wasn’t ready to tell people the truth, so I let my friends believe Eris to be a monster. In truth, I was the monster all along.”

You allow her candid words to wash over you. What your brother had done, allowing himself to be the villain when nothing was further from the truth.

You stand, moving to sit closer to Mor.

“I never believed the things Beron said about you,” You admit, looking into Mor’s warm brown eyes. Eyes that are full of hope. 

“I know that I’m sheltered, but I see the way he treats people. Even my brothers, Lucien especially. I do love him as a father, but as a person… he is awful. I long for the day when Eris takes over Autumn, and I can finally be free. Until then, I will dream of a better world.”

A tear falls from the corner of Mor’s eye and you rest a hand on her knee. 

You steady your breathing before continuing, “I’ve never had much interest in males and never allowed myself to consider alternatives. I’d like to try this, if you want to. I know courting in secret will be difficult, but I’m willing to give it a go. I’m ready to start building the world I’ve been dreaming of.”

Tears stream down Mor’s face and she pulls you into a hug. You savour the moment and for the first time, you allow yourself to hope. 

————

“ERIS!” You call out, running towards your brother and jumping into his arms. 

He catches you easily, wrapping his arms around you. “I was so worried, bright spark,” He says softly into your hair. 

“I know. I’m sorry to do that to you. I panicked. I didn’t even mean to winnow, it just happened.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay. But maybe don’t show that trick to anyone else,” Eris puts you down and stands back, taking in your appearance. “It seems this court suits you, Y/N,” He smiles. “Come now,” he extends his arm for you to take, “We’ve got business to discuss with Rhysand. We need to figure out something official so that Father will let you return here with me.” He winks as he walks you to meet with the High Lord.  

————

You’re convinced your brother is a genius. 

He told your father that you and the High Lady got on well and that your presence allowed him and Rhys to get on with business while the females ‘talk about fashion and whatever else they like to discuss.’ 

You had batted your lashes at your father, insisting that the High Lady needed some help with fae etiquette and that she was seeking your help on how to be a proper lady. 

Beron scoffed at the thought of the ‘wild human harlot’ ever being considered a lady, but he couldn’t say no to your wide-doe eyes. Especially not when Eris mentioned that the friendship could give Autumn more sway in political discussions. 

Eris winnowed you both to Rhysand’s Moonstone Palace for your regular ‘meeting’, where Rhys, Feyre and Mor were waiting for you. 

Mor looks ethereal under the starry night sky. Her hair flows like liquid gold in soft waves down her back. Her dress is a deep wine red, paying homage to your home court and hugs her curves perfectly. Your eyes linger on her figure for a few moments before moving back to her face. 

Thank you, Mother.

Rhys steps forward. “Welcome back, we won’t be staying in the Court of Nightmares this time,” He explains. “We thought it was time to show you our true home.” 

Feyre smiles warmly, her eyes twinkle with anticipation. 

Rhys takes Eris’s hand and Mor takes yours, winnowing you into the sky above a sparkling city. 

Wind rushes around you as you free-fall. The stone floor of the balcony getting closer and closer until it hits your feet. You steady yourself, feeling grateful for your fae reflexes. 

Still holding Mor’s hand, she leads you to the balcony's edge. You look out at the city sprawling below you, alive and bustling. The humming sound of life below is like music in your ears.

Mor smiles widely at you. “Welcome to Velaris,” she says. “The Court of Dreams.”

[stormhearty]

Thank U, Next

Pairings: Modern!Azriel x Reader, Modern!Azriel x OC, Modern!Eris x Reader

Word Count: 5k+

Triggers: mentions cheating, mentions of bullying, insecurities, cursing, name calling (bitch, asshole, whore, etc.)

Summary: (Y/N), part of the new nouveau riche, grew up with a golden spoon in her mouth, the typical popular girl but with a heart of gold, the art curator. Azriel, part of the famous billionaire boys club, the popular silent, stoic member who gets the girls’ hearts, is the model. You and Azriel have been together for over two years, a couple known throughout the city. However, your relationship with Azriel starts to become distant, and you notice the lingering gazes and touches of a person you believe to be your friend, things start to become heated and you lose yourself in heated words. You think that romance will never find your way again, only to find it in someone you never thought you’d have one with.

Note: From this request! Thank you anon for this amazing suggestion! I do hope this does your request justice! I am so sorry this has taken so long! It was kind of difficult to write this, mostly because you had such a specific vision that I tried to follow it. And as I was writing this, I don’t know if it is as angsty as it should be… and Azriel is an asshole in this one, I’m sorry. But also, sorry this got really long...

“Where are they?!” Mor snarled out as she stepped into the foyer of your condo, brown eyes darting around the place before focusing on you and Feyre who sat on the couch — your head tucked into her neck as you cried.

Feyre looked at the blonde, the two of them communicating wordlessly before Mor simmered down, walking over to where the two of you sat. Mor rounded the couch before kneeling in front of the two of you, a hand coming up to rub your arm.

“Hey, baby girl…” Mor whispered as if talking to a small child.

You let out a sniff as you lifted your head from Feyre’s shoulder and locked eyes with brown and you couldn’t help but pout, “…Mor…” you whimpered, the heartbreak evident in your voice.

The female gave you a small smile as she reached up to run a hand through your disheveled locks, “I did tell you that Lilianne girl was bad news…” Mor tried to sound lighthearted, and all you did was give out a chuckle — one so broken that it tugged on both Feyre’s and Mor’s heartstrings.

You nodded your head, “…Yeah… you were right, Mor… I should have listened…” you mumbled as you straightened up, hands unwrapping themselves from Feyre’s waist, flopping them onto your lap as you picked at your nails — a habit you never seem to have grown out of.

Mor shook her head and peered up to you, catching your eye, “You had very good intentions, (Y/N)… You wanted nothing more than a friend to meet your boyfriend. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. It was their fault that they galivanted behind your back… And that Lilianne girl…” There was a growl in the blonde’s tone mentioning that name, “Planned it ever since she set eyes on Azriel… You are not at fault for this, okay? She’s a bitch and he’s an asshole, end of story.”

You felt your lower lip wobble as more tears cascaded down your cheeks and you felt Mor wipe them away, and Feyre gently rubbing your back.

You felt like your whole world was breaking, that you didn’t know what was real or not, what was truth and what was fake — it was a whole whirlwind of different emotions running through you.

You didn’t understand why.

You couldn’t understand why Azriel had decided to cheat on you with Lilianne and you couldn’t understand why Lilianne decided to betray your trust by going after your boyfriend. And you couldn’t understand why Azriel thought you were the one bullying Lilianne. She was your friend (well you thought she was your friend), you were the one who befriended her and reached out to her when no one wouldn’t. And yet she decided to break that friendship.

What you couldn’t wrap your mind around was the bullying accusation. You were never mean to anyone, never hurt anyone — especially not Lilianne. But yet Azriel indicated that you out of all people, would be bullying Lilianne.

You didn’t pay a second thought about any bullying accusation — because you knew it wasn’t true. What had hurt the most was the fact that Azriel believed it without a second thought. Didn’t even ask you if the rumors were true — he regarded the rumors as accurate with conviction. And the fact that Lilianne didn’t say anything to refute those rumors was even more astounding.

The memory caused you to sob more, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes, trying to stop the tears from overflowing.

“What did I do wrong?” you whispered, a rhetorical question you weren’t expecting your friends to answer, “I never bullied anyone… I would never do that. And yet…

“Azriel believed that. Why would he think I, out of all people, would bully someone whom I consider my friend?”

You felt gentle hands come to hold your wrist and you were turned; you looked up to see bright blue gentle hues staring down at you.

“We wouldn’t know, (Y/N)… And I don’t want to speculate that Lilianne had to do something with it —-”

“That bitch probably made herself the victim, those bruises on her arms looked fucking fake, to begin with. All she wanted was to play into Azriel’s fucking hero complex and it fucking worked, acting like the innocent dumb bitch she is and — -”

“— - Mor…” Feyre chided lightly, eyes glancing at the blonde while Mor huffed before she shrugged, making herself comfortable on the floor, hands gently soothingly rubbing your knees. Feyre focused back on you as she held your wrist in her hands, thumb circling your pulse points, “(Y/N), I would suggest not thinking about it… Like Mor said, you are not at fault for their actions against you. We know those bullying accusations are false, Mor and I know you would never hurt anyone. And you know you didn’t do those things… that’s all that matters. And if Azriel decides those are true without evidence then it’s his fault.”

“Just leave him, (Y/N)…” Mor suggested, “Better yourself… for yourself. Don’t rely on him to make your person happy. Show him… Show him that you are the better person, make him fucking regret choosing that bitch over you…”

You looked between the two of them, the Cheshire grin on Mor’s features making you laugh. Your laughter made the air more light and Mor and Feyre felt their shoulder relax, glad that you were laughing again.

You nodded your head, “I want to do that… I want to be better… for myself, not for anyone else.”

Feyre ran her fingers through your hair, “Then do that… We’ll be right beside you the whole way…”

It had been a year after that breakup, that confrontation between you, Lilianne, and Azriel. You had moved on to better yourself — for you.

You started to get more artist deals to work with you and showcase their talents underneath you. (Y/N), the famous art curator. Your galleries were top-notch, high quality, and showcased your artist’s works. It was to the point people had booked you months in advance to even try to talk to you to work with them.

You traveled more out of the city, meeting new people, and seeing new places that you never would have if you were still with Azriel.

It was freeing — your new life finally settling down at your feet. One that was filled with happiness and love from your friends and family. You were more confident and self-reliant than ever.

It was rare for you to run into Lilianne and Azriel, you made sure that you wouldn’t run into them. But it was inevitable, all three of you were in the same social circles.

Galleries, balls — any high-class social events you always saw them. You had stuck with Mor, Feyre, and her boyfriend, Rhysand. And the three of them shielded and protected you from the two.

It was Lilianne who seemed to want to flaunt her relationship with Azriel in front of your face, clinging onto his arm and pressing kisses on his cheeks.

“All I want to do is pound her face to the ground…” Mor had grunted out into your ear one night when you all were at the Starlight Ball, a large high elite gathering on the longest night of the year.

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head at your friend, “It’s been a year already, Mor… It doesn’t bother me anymore. And besides, that would land you right into jail… I don’t think I have enough bail to get you out…”

Mor grinned, “I know, but it still irks me. Also, I have ways to stay out, (Y/N). Don’t worry you’re pretty head about it.”

The two of you were at a corner of the grand room, watching bodies weave in and out of the room, twirling in the center of the grand ballroom. You paid little attention to the two love birds that seemed to be under the spotlight, pressing the rim of the champagne to your rouge lips.

Eyes wandered the room, recognizing familiar and unfamiliar faces in the dim room. However, when you saw a familiar redhead, you couldn’t help but smile. Placing the champagne glass down on the table, you slipped away from the trio, weaving your body through the crowd before you stood behind the male.

“When did you arrive?”

You watched as the male straightened up before turning around, Eris gave you his signature smile — disregarding his conversation with the people behind him.

“(Y/N), starshine!”

You gave a bright smile as he stepped closer to you and wrapped you in his arms, as your own wrapped around his neck. Eris always seemed to have a habit of picking you up and spinning you whenever you greeted him.

A princess is what you are, and a princess is how you will be greeted, he always reminded you when you had asked him the first few times.

A giggle escaped your lips as he did the twirl before setting you back on your feet, ensuring you wouldn’t trip over your heels. Your hands slid from his neck down his chest, fixing the silk lapels of his ebony suit as his own hands remained on your waist.

“It’s so good to see you, starshine…” Eris mused as he gently guided you away from the group of CEOs he was conversing with to the side of the grand ballroom, away from prying eyes. Where he could be alone with you, despite being in a large room with hundreds of people.

It was no secret that Eris held affection for you. The two of you started as friends when Rhysand and Feyre introduced the two of you all those months ago when you started to travel the world. It was hard to see him, being the CEO-to-be of his company, the eldest son of the Vanserra clan. But it was always enjoyable whenever you did get to see him, like tonight.

“I just came in this morning… So I’m a bit tired, but seeing you always wipes that exhaustion away…” he hummed out with a smile, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Eris…” your cheeks heated up, and you hoped that the dim lighting didn’t give them away to the heir, “And you still came to the ball? You could have skipped it.”

“Why would I? When I get to see you, (Y/N).” he pointed out, his hand coming up to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ears.

You felt your cheeks glow hotter as you averted your eyes from the male, your heart pounding against your chest.

And it was no secret that you held affection for the redhead. His charming self seemed to have wormed his way into your heart, filling the void that was ripped away from you. You had opted to say away from relationships after Azriel’s betrayal, the wound still fresh to be in any sort of commitment. But Eris was someone who started to fill in that gap, slowly but surely throughout the year.

The song then changed to a waltz and you felt Eris’s hand slide down from the side of your face, down your neck, and your arms before gently grasping your hands, tugging you from your spot. Eyes locked on his, he led you to the dance floor, gently handling you to the proper position — his hand on your waist while the other grasping onto your hand.

Eris started to move, your feet following his step as all you could focus on was on him. The world slowed, the two of you lost in each other — a fleeting but eternal moment. As if the room around you started to blur together, leaving the two of you to bask in your moment together. However, that moment was ripped away from you when you felt hands grasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the male.

Wide-eyed, you looked at the person — -

“Azriel — - what the fuck — -”

He didn’t know what had overcome him. Azriel was spending the night with his lovely Lilianne, the girl that he had fallen in love with, despite being with you.

However, when he had watched you step away from Mor and Feyre, hazel eyes watched as you went into the arms of the redhead and all Azriel saw, from that point forward, was red. He had no idea why he felt like that — as if his chest was caving in on him, the ache raw and fresh.

He shouldn’t feel like that, his subconscious chided him, not when he had left you for someone else. Not when he had accused you of hurting someone else.

But all Azriel could think that it should have been him that was sweeping you away in this grand hall, having you in his arms, his body pressing against your own as you two danced the night away.

You were always his girl.

The girl who had broken him out of his shell; the girl that he’d send flowers to every day, without fail; the girl who would surprise him during his long photoshoot days with his favorite takeout; the girl who would hold him when his mother’s death anniversary came around each year; the girl who would be by his side when these long parties happened; the girl that he would press kisses to when you laid in bed with him after a long day; the girl he didn’t mind listening to all day long when you told him how your day was or even just talked about anything and everything.

You were his.

That part of him that had loved and cared for you started to crawl out from his subconscious and caused him to act on those actions — though this action seemed more possessive than an act of romance.

He felt his feet drag him away from Lilianne towards the two of you in the middle of that dance floor. He felt his hand grab your shoulder and rip you away from the redhead, from the corner of his eye, seeing the flash of surprise on your features.

All Azriel wanted to do was hurt Eris Vanserra… all because he got too close to you.

“Stay the fuck away from her, Vanserra…” Azriel growled out, stepping in front of you and pressing a finger against Eris’s chest.

The music abruptly stopped, chords becoming dissonant; all eyes set on the three of you. Parting way into a circle to keep away from the drama.

You couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed at Azriel, momentarily stunned as he continued to step boundaries with the Vanserra heir.

“You keep your hands away from (Y/N), you hear me? Don’t you fucking touch her, don’t go fucking near her…”

Eris, calm and poised as ever, raised a brow and looked at the model, “And why, Azriel, do you care if I am with (Y/N)? Shouldn’t you be with your little girlfriend over there? She seems stunned about your actions right now…” he waved a hand towards Lilianne, who stood at the edge of that very circle, a surprised look on her features

Azriel barely acknowledged the girl as all his focus was on Eris, “I care because I…” the words seemed to die out in his throat and Eris couldn’t help but smirk at him.

“You care because of what, Azriel?” he mocked the male, “Oh, you shouldn’t because (Y/N) is not in a relationship with you anymore. Not after what you had done to her last year…”

Eris stepped in front of Azriel, leaving little room between the two of them. Hazel and amber hues stared each other down, “You can’t tell me not to stay away from (Y/N), you have no fucking right to say what is best for her… Not anymore.”

The Vanserra heir stepped to the side, brushing Azriel before moving towards you and gently grasping your shoulders, asking if you were alright.

Azriel felt his body shake in so much rage.

How dare Eris just ignore him like that.

How dare Eris gently hold you in his arms.

That fury made him whip around and face the two of you, hazel eyes glimmering with fury, “I told you to fucking stay away from her…” he snarled.

Eris sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, partially shielding you from Azriel’s temper, “Like I said, Azriel, you had no right after last year’s little bullying accusation. Not when you had sided with Lilianne over (Y/N).”

“That is none of your business, Eris —-” the male started.

The Vanserra heir laughed before glaring at the other, “Oh yes, it is my business, Azriel. Not when (Y/N) was hurting so much because of it.”

“Eris… it’s okay,” you murmured, stopping him from going any further. You glanced at Azriel, though his gaze was focused on Eris. You placed a hand against his chest, “I’m fine now… Can we go, please?”

The male looked down at you as you looked up at him, a tiny smile on your features as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. Turning your body so that the two of you can leave Azriel in his simmering anger.

However, Azriel had a different plan — his temper blinding him, “You don’t get to walk away, Vanserra…” he hissed, “Take your hands off of her and leave.”

You paused mid-step, feeling your anger starting to rise in your stomach.

Enough was enough.

“What’s your problem, Azriel?” you couldn’t help but ask, turning once more to face your ex, “You have no right to talk to Eris like that. You have no right to try to say what is good for me… We are not together anymore and so you lost all that right.”

Azriel’s gaze went from pure anger to puzzlement, brows scrunched together as he looked at you, “(Y/N), I just don’t want him to hurt you…”

A bewildered laugh escaped your lips, your brows raising, “Like how you hurt me? Eris has done nothing in the year I’ve known him to possibly hurt me. And you can’t hurt me anymore, Azriel, I’ve gotten over you, gotten over the hurt you’ve inflicted on me. You have no say in what I do, on who I see, on who I fall in love with.”

“If this is you holding a grudge over me because I chose Lilianne over you, you are one petty person, (Y/N).”

You stepped up, about to counter when Eris swiftly moved from your side to grab Azriel’s collar in pure rage.

“Look here you little piece of shit…” Eris hissed, “(Y/N) has every right to hold a grudge over you over that. You chose another girl over your girlfriend. You chose to believe the fucking lies that that girl had told to you — without any fucking evidence besides made-up bruises. I have seen the photos, I have seen the ‘evidence’ that Lilianne decided to post to try to bring (Y/N) down, and for your fucking information, Azriel, they looked fake. Do you think that (Y/N) would have bullied that girl? I’ve known (Y/N) for a little over a year, and there is no fucking indication that she would ever bully or hurt anyone.

“Did you ever think after all the years you’ve known (Y/N), that she would hurt anyone? No. You know that, in your fucking subconscious, she would never lay a finger against someone — especially if she thought of that someone as a friend.”

Eris pushed Azriel down, causing the other to land on the ground with a thump. The heir looked down at him, his fury simmering down, “You are a coward, Azriel. You can’t be up here and try to do what is best for (Y/N) when you have thrown everything away when it comes to her. Now I suggest going back to your little girlfriend and leaving (Y/N) alone. You’ve done it before, so do it again.”

With one last glare, Eris turned on his heels, stepping next to you.

You stood next to Eris, feeling the male wrap an arm around your waist. You stared at Azriel one more time, “… I hope you can be happy, Azriel. My last wish to you is that…”

And with that, you turned your heels and let Eris guide you out of the room, leaving Azriel in that grand room.

Eris had led you to the balcony, the fresh, crisp, cool air greeting you.

Stepping out of his hold, you went to the railing and placed your hands on the cooling concrete, leaning over slightly, your head tilted up to look at the twinkling lights.

The silence between you and the CEO-to-be was nice, as your ears were still thrumming after that encounter with Azriel. Closing your eyes, you calmed your heart and allowed the air to let the adrenaline slip from your body.

“… Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

A hum escaped your throat as you opened your eyes, turning over your shoulder to look at Eris. He looked hesitant to approach you, standing a few steps back from you. You gave him a nod, a smile tugging on your lips, “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m fine… I’m done crying over him. Like I said, I moved on and it’s the happiest I’ve been.”

You heard his footsteps moving closer to you before feeling his frame next to yours. You turned your head, looking at his profile that seemed to illuminate in the moon’s light — he was handsome in this lighting, you had thought.

Feeling your gaze upon him, he turned to look at you, amber hues assessing your features before fully turning to you, a hand coming up to place on your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into the warmth from his palm, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist so you could press closer to it. You let out a shaky breath, calming your nerves — calming your heart — to savor this moment with him.

“You know… I can’t help but wonder…” he uttered as he brought you close to him, again, wrapping his arm around your waist, “When you said to fall in love with… Who were you referring to?”

You had just calmed your heart down, only to have it start to pound against your chest at his question. You attempted to divert your gaze, only to have him shift his hand to gently grasp your chin to keep your eyes at him, “Eyes on me, starshine…”

Scrunching your nose up at him, a habit you developed when you were around Eris, you stared up at him, getting lost in those amber hues.

You were hesitant, of course.

How could you not be? When Eris was looking at you as if you were the entire world at his fingertips.

Your other hand met your own, both of your hands now locked around his wrist as you peered up at him, “… Are you expecting something, Eris?” you couldn’t help but lightly tease him, trying to move around your beating heart.

Feeling his chuckle against his chest, he brought you close to the point where there was no more space between the two of you, the skirt of your gown shifting against his ankles, “I would like to think so, (Y/N)…” he whispered, his forehead pressing against your own, feeling his breath mingling with yours, “You wouldn’t say those words to that jerk if it wasn’t true, right?”

Despite the chilled wind that blew, you felt warm against Eris. His large form blocked any of the wind that would blow your way. You had felt safe with him.

Your hands slid up his arms and chest before you gently cupped his cheeks, your thumb grazing over the skin just underneath his eyes. You took in his features and committed them to memory — as if he might disappear before your very eyes if you were to utter the next words that threatened to slip your lips.

“— - Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true…” you agreed with him.

“So…? Who’s the lucky, devilishly handsome guy that you had fallen in love with?”

There it was, the confidence that oozed out of Eris always seemed to sweep you off your feet, throwing you off balance. It was one of the many qualities that had attracted you to him in the first place.

He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid of getting it.

You tip-toed up slightly, so your lips hovered over his own. You glanced at those lips before staring back up into amber eyes, watching his own eyes graze your lips before locking back into your eyes.

“… I think you already know, Eris Vanserra…” you uttered, pressing your lips against his for a split second before pulling away, “It’s you…”

Eris didn’t have to say anything else and grasped the back of your neck to pull your lips back onto his, sealing your confession with a kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, as you felt him lift you by the waist and gently placed you on that concrete railing, never once breaking that kiss.

When your lungs screamed for air, you pulled away, panting as you felt Eris stare up at you.

He looked up into your eyes, seeing the sparkles of stardust in them as if they were a reflection of the stars above both of you. Eris watched as that magnificent smile tugged at your lips, one that was mimicked on his own, “… And I have fallen in love with you as well, (Y/N). Over this year, my heart couldn’t help but reach out to yours. I knew you were healing, I wanted to give you time… Truly I did. But I couldn’t help it, you are as glorious as the stars above us… The world needed you before I could grasp you in my hands. And you blossomed, into this confident woman, like a phoenix that rose from its ashes.”

He watched as tears streaked your beautiful face, and he cooed, wiping them away with his thumb as you leaned over to press your forehead against his own.

“I wanted you, so badly… But I needed you to want me back, (Y/N). So I could see that you had moved on, that you could move on without regret… So that you can love me with that whole heart of yours.”

You sniffed, gripping onto his shoulders, “And I do love you with all my heart, Eris… You have filled in that void that was empty inside of me for so long… I don’t regret falling in love with you… I regret not knowing and falling in love with you sooner.”

Eris smiled at you, pressing a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, “Well, we have the rest of our lives to make up for that…”

You nodded your head, as you felt him lean closer to you and press another kiss onto your lips, the stars above you twinkling.

It had been a month after that fateful night at the Starlight Ball, after your confession to Eris. You had become more busy than ever — more galleries to plan, more artists to meet, and more venues to scout.

Eris seemed to be busy too, his father had deteriorated much quicker than anticipated and so his CEO duties have gone through the roof — more meetings with board members and dealing with his cumbersome brothers.

Both of you also were dealing with the repercussions of that Starlight Ball fiasco with Azriel. The news outlet seemed to have caught wind and investigated the matter that happened a year ago.

The truth was eventually uncovered — Lilianne confessed that she had planned everything, that she wanted to take everything that you had, especially when it came to Azriel. She had been jealous of the fact that your life was perfect, and wanted to see it burn to the ground.

You and Eris stayed far away from that — Eris especially became quite overprotective, worrying that you might spiral back down into a depressive state. However, you had gotten stronger, and more confident, the news barely grazed you and you continued with your life, head held high.

Waving goodbye to Feyre and Rhysand, the couple stepped out of the empty building leaving you alone in its echoing walls. The three of you were looking for a venue to showcase Feyre’s newest art pieces and it seemed that the couple settled on this one in particular. You had always loved working with Feyre, she was one of your first clients when you had become an art curator. And so when she asked you to help her find the perfect place for a new art gallery, you were excited.

Letting out a sigh, you took your phone out of your bag and walked out of the building, ready to text Eris to pick you up when you crashed into a body, your feet stumbling underneath you.

Familiar hands grasped your upper arms and you looked up to see Azriel — a more disheveled Azriel from the looks of it.

“Azriel… what the—-”

“Please listen to me, (Y/N)…” Azriel all but begged.

You closed your mouth, a brow raised as you crossed your arms across your chest, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I… I was so stupid to believe Lilianne and the bullying accusation.”

It seemed that the truth finally reached Azriel’s ears.

“I should have known that you wouldn’t have done it. I was so… blinded about someone getting hurt that I didn’t think rationally. That I didn’t think in general. That my stupid actions caused me to lose you and your love entirely.”

He looked at you, pain shown through his hazel eyes, and yet he was taken aback when you looked at him with such indifference.

“Why are you here Azriel?” you asked, your tone straightforward, “If you’re here just to apologize then you’re late for it.”

You attempted to step around him, only to have Azriel step in front of you once more, his features begging you to continue to listen.

A sigh escaped your lips, “I swear to Mother, Azriel, if you don’t leave me alone, I will be calling Eris to deal with you…”

“No! No… Please just hear me out, (Y/N). Just for a few more moments…” he pleaded.

You looked at him with brows scrunched before you stepped back, waving a hand for him to continue.

“I regret it… I regret choosing her over you. Like I said, I was blind. This past month…” he shook his head, “No, this past year I realized how stupid I was for choosing her. She was nothing but a clingy person who was self-absorbed and worried about herself. You are nothing like her — you are self-reliant, kind-hearted, confident — the total opposite of her. It was no wonder why she tried to bring you down…” He looked at you before he dropped down onto his knees and you were taken aback, “I’m so sorry… if there’s any way you could forgive me… take me back, I’d do anything for you…”

It was a sight — Azriel groveling onto the ground at your feet. A frown tugged at the edge of your lips, “Get up Azriel… You’re making yourself a fool.”

He nodded his head, slowly getting back up to his feet.

You stared at him before a sigh escaped your lips, “… Like I said, you’re too late to apologize, Azriel… A year too late to be groveling like this. And you think I’d take you back? After everything you’ve done? After I’m happy with Eris? Why would I give that up to go back to you, and worry if you’d betray me like that again?”

He nodded again, though he didn’t say another word.

“… Look at me Azriel…”

With hesitation, he lifted his head to look at you.

“You can regret all you want, you can try to win me back as much as you want… but I will never take you back… I can never trust you again…” You looked at him dead in the eye, “… Like I said at the Starlight Ball… I hope you can be happy, Azriel. Please don’t seek me out again, don’t come near me again… That’s all I ask of you…”

When Azriel didn’t say anything anymore, you sidestepped him and noticed Eris a few meters behind him. You noticed on how held back he was when he saw Azriel, noticed amber eyes glaring into the back of the other male’s head before his gaze turned to yours, those eyes softening.

You have him a bright smile, your feet speeding up to hug him, comforting him in silence. You felt him press a kiss on the crown of your head before moving so he could gently escort you into the car, leaving Azriel standing on the crosswalk.

The car roared to life when Eris moved to the driver side, and you looked at him and he looked at you, a smile on his features as he reached over to hold your hand, pressing a kiss on the back of it before he drove away.

[velarisbeautyqueen]

A COURT OF SHADOWS AND DAYLIGHT Chapter One

Masterlist

warnings: swearing!

the room was tense, as if any movement too sudden would set everybody off. they had come to a cross roads in their fight against hybern. they needed allies, desperately. they decided to send a letter to each other high lord and their court, offering a peaceful talk on how they can work together to solve this issue. awaiting the responses on said letters has left every on edge.

how many allies did they have among the courts? day seemed like a safe bet, helion and rhys were familiar and friendly. though, it would prove a harder fight to win courts like autumn or summer to their side. a few months ago, summer would have been an easy ally, but after the whole blood rubies fiasco, rhys could only hope tarquin was sensible enough to look past their prior….. indiscretions.

“we barely stand a chance of surviving hybern’s armies on our own. If armies from vallahan, montesere, and rask joined them…” cassian sighed and drew a line across his tanned throat.

“are those three territories…. powerful?” feyre winced after the words had slipped from her mouth. it seemed a foolish question.

“yes,” azriel responded with no judgement in his hazel eyes. “vallahan has the numbers, montesere has the money, and rask… it is large enough to have both.”

“so we have no potential allies amongst the other overseas territories?”

rhys sighed heavily, leaning back in his armchair and pulled at a stray string on his cuff, “not one’s that would sail here to help.”

feyre’s stomach turned, “what of miryam and drakon? you fought for miryam and drakon centuries ago… perhaps it’s time to call in that debt.”

but rhys just shook his head, “we tried. azriel went to cretea.”

“it was abandoned, in ruin.” azriel added, shadows stirring behind him as they always did. “with no trace of what happened or where they went.”

“you think that hybern-”

“there was no sign of hybern, or of any harm,” mor cut in, her face taut.

“then you think they heard of hybern and ran?” feyre asked.

“the miryam and drakon i knew wouldn’t have run- not from this,” rhys responded.

the atmosphere of the room was suffocating. they were doomed. the army of hybern was a force rhysand had a feeling he nor anybody else in the room could even contemplate.

“there’s really nobody else?” feyre’s voice trembled slightly- betraying her dismay.

rhysand looked down at his hands for a moment, at a loss for what to do next.

“you know you can always call upon me, my sweet”

the words sent a shiver up his spine. his eyes darted to feyre, almost questioning if she had heard anything. her face showed no reaction, only contemplation at the challenge of gathering allies. a memory. that’s what the voice inside of his head had been. one he had not thought about in well over one hundred years.

“eowyn ” the high lord choked out. “we can call upon eowyn, and she will come.”

it was silent for a moment, but only a moment,

“i'm sorry, what the fuck is an eowyn?” cassian asked, eyebrows arching, “and how is it going to help us with hybern?”

"yeah rhys! i've never once heard you mention anybody or anything by the name of eowyn" mor chirped in from the right side of the room, wine glass in hand. azriel's eyes which usually lingered on the blonde, were downturned toward the ground.

eowyn…

the room was silent for another several beats, before rhysand jumped to his feet from his chair, pushing the still spinning seat away from his body. before he even knew were he was going, his feet carried him up, up, up the stairs into his office. he was frantic.

"rhys!" feyre called after her mate, her feet carrying her to follow after her mate.

throwing open the heavy oak door, not even cringing with it ricocheted off the wall behind it as he normally would, rhys pushed his way into the room. his eyes bounced around the room, alit with something almost fiery, trying desperately to remember where the last place he had seen that damned locket was. a vicious curse fell from his lips as he threw himself to his knees in front of his desk, his hands delving into the depths the drawers, he began rummaging through. pushing past the files of taxes, geneology, and other nonsense he could not be bothered with at the moment, he huffed in frustration.

several pairs of footsteps had come rushing up the stairs behind him but rhys did not slow his exploration for his audience. he needed to find that fucking locket. a snarl fell from his lips, quickly contorting his body to the other side, before promptly ripping into that drawer as well.

“where the fuck is it?!” he hissed, “don’t play these fucking games with me eowyn,”

"what the fuck is going on...?" cassian mummered to his fellow audiance, all gathered away from their manic high lord.

amren only smirked from where she had perched herself on the arm of a loveseat, "it seems our high lord has been hiding a few more secrets from us than we had anticipated." she did not look angry or upset, no... there was a hint of mischif gleaming in her ancient eyes. mor was frowning, as was feyre. what was rhys not telling them? how long had he been sitting on this secret 'eowyn.'

abandoning the search of the desk, rhys stood and almost threw himself towards the bookcase lining the back wall.

“maybe, if you tell us what you’re looking for…” feyre spoke up, glancing away from rhys for a moment to look for support among her family.

"it has to be around here somewhere..."rhys mumbled to himself, ignoring any help in searching for the missing item.

the high lady’s eyebrows pinched together, confusion flushing her features. why was he ignoring them all? even the spymaster azriel couldn't recall a time rhys had made mention of an 'eowyn.'

“ah-ha!!” rhys’ triumphant cry echoed through the room. held firmly in his grasp was a necklace. feyre and the others could only look on in confusion.

“and what is that going to do to help us-“ cassian was cut off by a harsh snarl falling from the lips of his high lord. the high lord cradled the delicate chain in his hands, fingers gently reaching out to stroke the runes engraved in the metal charm. 'Ueipie trtefraret yawi nlaki'

“wyn… i need you,” rhys’ voice sounded defeated, exhausted and feyre’s soul ached for the weight upon her mates shoulders. “i need you to come here and save my ass,” he mummered into close enough to the locket that his lips brushed the cold metal. “please, wyn. you know i wouldn’t ask if i wasn’t desperate,”

feyre couldn’t only watch as rhys hesitated for a moment, before tightening his hands on the locket before slipping it into his chest pocket. the confusion must have been written plain across her face, because when he turned to her- rhys only sighed.

“i first met eowyn when i was around sixteen,” he started. a deep sigh left his lungs as he looked around the state of his office. files and nick-nacks were not everywhere, clear evidence of his frantic search for the communication device. “my father and hers had been... friends a long time ago, im not too sure how they originally came into contact with each other, but they formed a bond, a connection..”

“her family came to visit us, here in velaris,” it was most unusual. most formal guests were greeted and stayed within the hewn city. “she was here for maybe… a month,”

“where were we?!” cassian butted in, demanding to know why he had no knowledge of the woman.

“at windhaven, remember when i came back home with my mother for the month of june that one year, you and az were alone in the cabin… if i recall you had tanwyn over quite a lot.”

cassian only nodded for rhys to continue on with his story.

"we... she and i grew close, and when her and her family left at the end of the month, we stayed in contact. i didn't see her again, until the first war with hybern. her father's armies came in defence of our side, my father was the one who called upon him. she came with him and..." rhys hesitated before going on, his eyes landing on feyre. his sweet, kind, caring mate. the second half of his soul.

"and we fell in love," a small smile graced his lips, recalling a time long, long ago. "we fell in love and i-i asked her to marry me. i thought it would be a smart political move, to bind our two people together. and she, i think she wanted to say yes, but..." he trailed off.

silence. a deadly silence filled the room. feyre's heart sputtered in her heart. her mate, had been so in love with this woman, he had proposed marriage to her? and he had never even spoken of her...?

rhys didn't speak again for a moment, throwing himself into his desk chair, with a deep sigh. "eowyn is elvish. princess of the elvish people, ruler of the oak ridge empire," he explained. elves? feyre's head spun, hand gripping onto mor's for moral support. "the elves take the mating bond seriously, more seriously than us. they will hardly ever marry if not to their mate, they wait hundreds of years, and do as they please in that time... i thought she loved me too, and i think she did in a way, but..."

"when the war ended, and her father and their men made to head back to Vynkar, their capital city, she decided she was going with them. but she told me that if i ever needed her, if i ever was in need of her help, all i had to to was speak into this necklace.. i was just- so full of rage at her after she left, i thought she took my heart with her.''

feyre could only gape at her mate. her hands hung limply by her sides. she was not angry, not truly beyond the possessive nature that threatened to claw this woman, eowyn's eyes out. rhys was much, much older than her, of course he had his share of romantic interests before her, but to imagine a world she found rhysand, and he was taken by another... her stomach clenched.

"i thought that until i met you, feyre darling. you are my whole heart, but now we need to call eowyn and beg for her aid. we will not stand a chance against hybern without her and her armies,"

feyre drew in a long, deep breath before nodding her head. she was the high lady, and she was stronger than letting an old flame upset her. "you're right, we will need her. if she commands the armies you're implying... she will be our greatest asset."

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺⌝❜❛⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

this is my first acotar fanfiction ever! comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

[shadowqueenjude]

Many people have a headcanon that the stranger who appeared at the Archerons’ door asking Papa Archeron to invest was Lucien, so I decided to write the scene! This is the first coherent thing I’ve written in ages so don’t judge me too hard😭 Also I have no idea what currency is used in acotarland so I’m using pounds because it’s based on Britain.

Lucien had not even seen a human house yet and he already felt like an outsider. He was no stranger to the feeling; it was how he’d felt when he’d first shown up in Spring, covered in his brothers’ blood, steam curling off his body from the fire in his veins, his ember smell and red hair both clear signs that he didn’t belong. However, at least, while his magic had felt weaker outside of his home territory, it had still felt potent. Even with Amarantha’s stupid curse. But here… By the Cauldron, this place was so dreary. So ordinary. If this was where Feyre had grown up, no wonder she was such an ignorant mortal fool. Her human life was so mundane compared to his. Lucien couldn’t imagine living here his whole life like this. 

Tamlin had offered to send an entire entourage to protect him, but Lucien had insisted that just a horse would do. He needed to look wealthy, not like a prince. He wasn’t going to be slain by two girls and their absentee father. Andras had only been killed because he had willed it. Lucien shut down that thought, not wanting to think about the pain he’d felt when Andras had died. His closest friend in Spring, most likely. Tamlin was his friend too, but he was also his High Lord; the relationship was inherently unequal, unlike with Andras.

At last, Lucien exited the forest. The clearing was even more boring than the trees. The ground was a yellowish-green reminiscent of dying grass, and every step was a loud crunch under the horse’s hooves. Pahhh. No wonder Feyre was half-dead when she’d first arrived. Then Lucien felt guilty for thinking that way. It wasn’t her fault the humans were left like this. Prythian before Amarantha had ample resources to help out the humans, but they hadn’t. They’d freed them from slavery to the Fae, only to make them slaves to their basest instincts. 

They were even worse off than the lesser faeries. Lucien’s eyes stung as he remembered Jesminda’s dream of an equal Prythian, the dream Tamlin was working hard towards. She would’ve loved Tamlin and the Spring Court. 

Calm down Lucien, he chastised himself as he urged the horse onward. Holy shit, Tamlin hadn’t exaggerated; these homes and buildings were tiny. He moved through bustling streets with little humans pushing carts full of wares of some kind. Several stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Excellent; he set himself apart plenty simply being astride this mare. 

As Tamlin had said, the Archeron home wasn’t hard to find. Mostly because of the lingering faerie scents that he followed all the way to their house. He didn’t remember human etiquette as it had been ages since he’d met one, but it couldn’t be that different from Faerie etiquette, right? Right?? Cauldron boil him, he should’ve done more research, but he didn’t think it would be that big a deal. Tamlin’s glamour magic that he’d cast as he kidnapped Feyre should hold, plus Lucien’s own glamour magic. 

He didn’t have anything to tie his horse to, so he gently descended the horse and led her near the side of the house, praying that she wouldn’t run. Then he knocked on the door, internally cussing at this infernal hat he was wearing. Some gentlemanly human fashion that he despised.

The door opened a minute later. Lucien looked down at a small woman who looked a lot like Feyre- only, her features were sharper, stronger. Her dirty blonde hair was up in a braided crown, her angled brows were arched as her silvery-blue eyes assessed him with a courtier’s precision. Lucien instantly recognized this one as Nesta- the older sister. Cold, cunning, and more beautiful than Lucien had expected. He gave her a practiced courtier’s smile as he bowed to her. “Hello, Lady. I was wondering if your father was home?” Nesta stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “What could you possibly want with him?” Another feminine voice in the background gasped, but Lucien maintained his smile, only replying, “He is a merchant, is he not, Lady? I have a proposition for him.”

“Our father hasn’t been a merchant in many years,” Nesta said coldly. Oh, she was a viper, alright. She’d fit right in at the Autumn Court. Unfortunately for her, Lucien had far too much experience with people worse than her. “Perhaps what I suggest will convince him to get back into it.”

Nesta looked him up and down again. Somehow, Lucien got the feeling that she could see through the glamour. Impressive. Lucien’s smile morphed into a smirk as Nesta continued to stare her displeasure. “See something you like, my lady?” Nesta’s eyes instantly snapped back to his. “How dare- oh just come in; let’s get this over with quickly.” 

Lucien bowed again, and unable to help himself, he sent a wink and grin Nesta’s way before he turned towards the man sitting on the chair. Lucien repressed his wince of sympathy at the ruined leg. That must have hurt a lot when he got it. He didn’t know the story, but it made Lucien’s face twinge in memory of his own eye getting carved out. “Does that hurt?” Lucien asked the man, nodding at the leg. The man blinked, as though surprised to be addressed. “Often,” he admitted. “Particularly when I try to stand up.” Unable to help himself, Lucien blurted, “I could give you supplies to help you with that, you know, Lord.”

The man cringed. “Please just call me Tristan. And I couldn’t possibly accept-“

“Please, Tristan. I insist. It’s just in my satchel here. Give me one moment.” He bowed to him and turned around, the scent of jasmine wafting into his nose. That’s when he saw her.

The younger sister: Elain. She had the same burnished gold hair of her sisters, but her eyes were wholly different; she had lovely doe eyes that you could drown in. She had a slight blush on her face, and she had an inviting smile on her face as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Won’t you tell us your name, my lord?” Lucien had fully intended on giving them an alias, but he fumbled on his words, instead saying, “I-my name is Lucien.”

“Lucien.” His name on her tongue-

“Pretty name for a pretty lord,” Elain teased, and Lucien felt his face heat up. His shirt sleeve sparked with fire, and Lucien hastily patted it down. Why was he so nervous? Elain wasn’t the first beautiful woman he had ever seen. “Why, um, thank you, Lady Elain.”

“How do you know her name?” Nesta cut in, and Lucien sighed. She was even worse than Feyre. He turned to her, letting that practiced smile return. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t know about the family of the man who I’m trusting with my money, did you?” Lucien tried not to laugh at the expression on Nesta’s face as he sauntered out of the cabin to get the faerie pain killer and tonic. He made a mental note to get new ones once he went back home. This man needed it more than him, and he could just get more when he went home.

 Thankfully, his horse was obediently standing near the side of the house, and Lucien rustled through his satchel, getting the two bottles he always kept on him. Then he strolled back towards the front door, knocking politely again. This time, the door was opened by Elain, who gave him that adorable smile again. “Lord Lucien.” Lucien gave her a real grin, replying, “Lady Elain.” “Please don’t worry about my sister. She can be a little…overprotective, but she means well, I promise.” Lucien lifted a hand to place on Elain’s shoulder assuredly before he remembered that humans were really weird about physical contact. 

“Rest assured, I understand your sister’s misgivings. I’m a strange man entering your home, and I know of the struggles ladies must go through in this world. I do not resent her for her attitude.” Elain beamed. “Does that mean you’ll visit us again?” While Lucien had been careful to avoid physical contact, it seemed Elain had no such qualms; she grabbed his forearm with her small, surprisingly strong hands. Lucien stiffened slightly in surprise. He was going to say no when he caught a glimpse of her expression and scented her mood. Her excitement was so contagious. “You seem a worldly man. Have you traveled much?” Lucien blinked. “Yes, I have.” He opened his mouth to say more, but his mind was blank. Cauldron boil him-

“Excellent! Then it’s settled then; you’re coming back so you can tell me all about your travels,” Elain said firmly. Lucien blushed again. Think of something intelligent to say! “As you say, my lady,” Lucien finally managed. Then the two of them walked back to her father, Elain’s hand still on his arm. Lucien felt Nesta’s glaring at it, but he didn’t care; he was glowing at her hand on him, and he was too giddy to wonder why. “Here it is, Tristan. When you feel pain, take two sips of this red liquid and your pain shall go away. Rub this purple liquid into your leg every day to help relieve the bones in that area. I shall leave them on this table.” Lucien placed them on the wooden table where he noticed Tamlin’s claw marks punched into the table. By the Cauldron, Tam. You went all the way with the theatrics, didn’t you?

“Now, for my request: I know of your reputation, so I am asking you to invest some of my money for me.”

Tristan inquired, “And how much do you wish me to invest, Lord Lucien?” “Twenty thousand pounds.” Elain gasped and Nesta moved to cover her younger sister’s mouth. Tristan stared at him in disbelief. “Twenty thousand? Really?” 

“Of course. Will that be a problem?”

“Well…it’s just so much money…”

Lucien resisted the urge to snarl at him. His patience was waning. “No, it’s nothing to me. Just a small sum to see what you can do. I’ll think of investing more if I am interested.” Tristan stared at him some more. “That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Elain exclaimed, walking forward as her sister tried to shush her again. “My father would be delighted to accept your investment, my lord.” Lucien sighed slightly in relief as Elain met his eyes. “Thank you,” he mouthed at her. She merely winked at him, and Lucien blushed again. Something was wrong with him; must be the human weather. 

“Erm, yes, of course I would,” Tristan said with slight confusion. “Father-“ Nesta began, but Lucien spoke over her. “Splendid! I could not be more grateful.” Lucien reached his hand into midair, searching for that small bag of gold Tamlin had given him and stored in the ether. At last, he found it, handing it to Tristan. “Here’s another token of my gratitude.” Tristan blinked, as if he could not possibly believe his luck, and Lucien handed him another back, this one with the twenty thousand pounds. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Tristan, and meeting your wonderful daughters.” He bowed to each of them in turn before exiting the room. 

“Wait!” Elain cried, just as Lucien mounted his horse. Lucien turned to Feyre’s sister. He tried not to get distracted by her big brown eyes as she said breathlessly, “You will come back, won’t you, my lord?” He hadn’t planned on it, no. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that to her. “I swear it, my lady Elain.” She grinned then, her fully smile so brilliant it took Lucien’s breath away. “Until then, my Lord Lucien.” 

That expression remained imprinted on Lucien’s mind all the way back to the Spring Court.

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate

Azrielx Archeron Oc

A/N- happy day 4 of my week celebrating over 100 new friends 💙 here is the winning poll piece with Azriel and our little Archeron OC, Kaylee. This mostly takes place pre-hybern and the Cauldron, but expect a turn at the end. This is a little bit of a Rollercoaster because I love the idea of Az and Kaylee going into her being made already kind of courting.

Summary - After her older sister returns home with 3 males in tow, Kaylee finds her life turn upside down by one of them. She is unknowingly drawn to the scarred male, and he to her.

Less fun Warnings - mentions of death and child loss (nothing graphic just in a healing house sense), mentions of SA, angst. Kidnapping

The fun warnings - smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics (because what kind of Az fic doesn't pay into bdsm?), innocent oc, one use of impact play

Word count - around 3866

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

The first time Azriel came, Feyre and Kaylee held eye contact, communicating silently. Her older sister had brought 3 men, males, she corrected herself, into their home, and now, she sat next to the one who had pretty blue gems. She supposed he was pretty, too.

If you liked your partner to quite possibly be able to kill you with their bare teeth.

And Kaylee supposed, again, that she maybe did. She looked at him before looking at Feyre and then went back to poking at her food.

When she went to bed that night, locked in her room alone by Nesta's orders, Kaylee could have sworn she saw a shadow move before something cool danced in hair and laced between her fingers.

On his second visit, Azriel found himself looking for Kaylee. He had bought something for her at a jewelry shop, without any inkling as to why. He held the small box containing the pretty raw sapphire necklace as he entered her room at the estate.

He froze at the sight of her. Her long sandy blonde hair was damp, she was wrapped in a soft fluffy robe. She was sitting at her vanity, frozen as she stared back at him. "Aren't you supposed to be dropping a letter off to Nesta?" Her voice reminded him of summer rain. It had played in his mind constantly the past couple weeks.

"I did. I was hoping to see you." He smiled as a flush instantly hit her face, gracing her cheekbones. "Only if that is okay, though. Nesta and Elain do not know I snunk up here." Kaylee nodded. She motioned for him to join her in the room, and he sat on her bed. The smell of jasmine and vanilla hit him instantly. Expensive, a shadow whispered. "How is the healing house?"

Kaylee smiled as she turned to him, running an oil through her long beautiful hair. Soft, another shadow whispered. "It's been okay. Lots of kids this week with colds and allergies. Poor little things."

"Do you want kids someday?" The question was out before Azriel could stop himself. "Sorry I-"

"With the right person, yes." Kaylee answered without hesitation. "But only if Feyre likes them. Which I guess gives me my short lifetime to find someone." Azriel felt his heart deflate at the reminder. Human, a shadow whispered. She is just human.

Azriel stood as she turned back to the mirror, keeping the box behind his back and he approached her. "Hold your hair up for me, Kaylee." She watched him from the mirror but did as he asked. "I bought this for you. I thought I couldn't help but to think of it with your eyes when I saw it." She allowed him access to her neck without fear as she watched him. His hands were shaking from his nerves as he placed the delicate necklace on her and closed the latch.

He couldn't help himself as he reached behind her, positioning the stone so it sat perfectly centered above her breasts. "Beautiful," he whispered to her softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

On his third visit, Azriel wasn't even supposed to technically be there. He had been trying to get into the Mortal Queen's Castle. During his flight, he was struck with an arrow. It wasn't ash, wasn't laced with faebane, but he took advantage of the injury nonetheless, using it as an excuse to see Kaylee. He was currently sat on her vanity stool, shirtless, as she cleaned the wound. "I don't know much about fae healing. It looks like it's already closing, though."

Azriel chuckled. "It probably is. I just wanted an excuse to see you." He laughed again as her face flushed and she smacked him on the shoulder. "Can you blame a male for wanting a pretty girl to tend to his injuries?"

Kaylee shook her head smiling before moving to clean the barely there cut on his face. "You are a shameless flirt, Azriel."

"Only when it comes to you, honeybee." He adjusted the sapphire necklace, smiling slightly. "How are you?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Nesta and Cassian got into it today when he stopped by. The energy of the house has been off since then. It's just a heavy feeling?" She looked at him, hoping he understood what she meant and he nodded. "How are you?"

"I was shot with an arrow today, Kaylee. I too have had better days." She couldn't help but to laugh at the statement, her head falling into his shoulder. He'd do anything to hear her laugh, to see her smile. "I did get to see you. So that does make up for it." She pulled back slightly, her face near his. The cut was long gone, the wound in his side had closed and all that was left was a faint pink mark.

Az, a familiar purr came into his mind. Where are you?

Almost to the wall. I'll be home soon. Azriel locked Rhysand out, his hand absent-mindedly moving to Kaylee's face.

Neither of them know if he moved in, or if she did, but one second there was a breath of air between them, the next, there was nothing but his lips on hers. Moving together as he pulled her closer between his legs and her hands came to rest on his chest.

It felt like, for once, something good was in his pathway. Something whole and pure. He pulled away from her, instantly missing the taste of honey and green tea that lingered on her, and rested his forehead against hers. "I have to go, Rhys is calling for me."

Kaylee just nodded. "Was that your way of saying goodbye?" Azriel nodded. "We should always say goodbye like that then."

"Agreed."

Azriel's third visit was spent mapping out the house. He had not seen Kaylee since his last stop, but a small box sat heavy in his pocket waiting for the moment Nesta was done with him so he could see her.

"The last room is Kay's," the oldest sister glared at him. "She might be in there, so if she is, do not speak with her and leave her alone." Azriel nodded. "She's had a rough week."

Azriel opened the door, closing it behind him when he found the mortal who haunted his every waking moment curled in a ball on her bed. Crying. Lost someone. The shadow he had trailing her told him. Little one.

Azriel sat on her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kaylee." She was instantly in his arms, crying harder as he held her against him. He adjusted slightly so she'd be in his lap, then pulled the box out and set it on her night stand. "It's okay, honeybee."

"It's not fair," and Azriel knew it wasn't. The shadow had finished filling him in. "He didn't even have a chance." He shushed her softly, pulling her in tighter. "It's just not fair."

"I know, Kaylee. I know. The loss of a babe is never fair, nor easy." They held each other in silence until her sobs became soft sniffles. Asleep. Likes to cuddle with the otter on the corner of the bed. We snuggle it every night. Azriel could have laughed at his shadows' confession. He laid Kaylee down, tucking her into the bed and handing her the otter. He watched as the shadow he had unknowingly lost to her weaved between her fingers and almost nestled into her. Ours, it whispered.

He kissed her lips gently and whispered a goodbye to her, leaving a quickly scribbled note with the box.

His fourth visit wasn't fun, nor did it allow him much time with her. He watched as Nesta fixed Kaylee's long soft waves, dissatisfied with the looks of her youngest sister.

They all had told the sisters how beautiful they looked, only for Nesta to back hand the compliment to Kaylee. "Had someone been home earlier, she'd look better."

There's nothing fucking wrong with her, Rhysand growled into the link he, Cassian, and Azriel were sharing. What is Nesta's fucking problem with her younger siblings?

From what my shadows caught, Kaylee did not get home until almost an hour ago. Something happened last night and she was pulled from bed.

That explains the medicine smell on her skin still. Cassian said softly. I think she looks fine. She looks extra glowy in that shade of blue, wouldn't you say, Azriel?

Ah yes, Rhysand said. With that clearly fae made jewelry. Admit you're courting her, Brother. We do not care..

Azriel slammed them out, moving to Kaylee as Nesta tried to force her younger sister to let her tie her hair up in braids. "Enough. She looks fine." He pulled Kaylee back to the wall by him and Cassian. They shared a silent look between them. He smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, exposing the sapphire earrings he had purchased her.

Kaylee whispered quietly, "They're late." Cassian shrugged, trying to hide his annoyance. Kaylee jumped as a male suddenly appeared before her, guards and the queens winnowing in. Her hand had grabbed Azriel's, and he had protectively pulled the youngest sister behind him, almost handing her to Cassian with a growl. They did not get to kiss goodbye on that visit. An action Azriel would fly back soon to fix.

He had flown back a week later, sneaking into her room using the balcony door, and waited for her on her bed. He had not noticed her bathroom light was on. he was just anxiously waiting, mind in his own world. "Oh Gods! Azriel! You have to stop sneaking up on me." His gaze shot up and instantly widened.

Kaylee was standing there in her towel. Her long legs exposed to him, her upper chest exposed to him. "I-" he shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it and looked away.

"Is everything okay?" Kaylee moved closer to him until she was right in front of him. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes locked on her toned thighs. "You are naked."

"Do fae not bathe naked? You all just leave your clothing on? Are you all ever naked?" He smirked at the question and bit at the bait she had tossed out.

"I'm naked when I bathe, Kaylee. I spend a lot of time naked actually." She hummed softly, tucking the end of her towel into itself. "Everything is fine, by the way. I just had a night off and thought I'd spend it seeing you." Kaylee nodded and smiled. "I figured we could maybe talk, or-" he trailed off, eyes on her legs again.

"Ooooor?" He shook his head. "Or what, Azriel?"

He swallowed again. "I will be honest. I forgot every idea I had once I realized you were naked."

Kaylee was debating something. Finally making her choice she dropped the towel, crawling into his lap, bare to him. "Does my nakedness bother you?" Azriel groaned, instantly switching their positions so she was below him.

He growled at her slightly parted lips before diving into them and kissing her deeply. His hands began to roam, going up from her waist to her breasts and squeezing the tender flesh. He devoured her moans, groaning in response as her legs fell wider apart to allow him more space. He moved his lips from hers, kissing down her neck, then biting into the pulse point softly.

Kaylee was responsive to him, to his every touch, lick, and kiss. He felt as if he were a sex God at how the littlest things he did seemed to be magic to her. "You are so beautiful. You know that?" He whispered into her ear before lightly biting it. She doesn't, the shadow said. She doesn't believe you. Azriel lifted her from the bed, pulling them in front of her full length floor mirror and stationed himself behind her. He continued kissing her neck and shoulders, hands playing with her nipples as she turned to hide her face in his neck.

Her skin was on fire with every touch of his hands, only to be instantly cooled by his shadows. "So fucking beautiful," Azriel groaned into her neck. "Look at yourself in the mirror and say you're beautiful."

His hands roamed lower and lower, finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake as he continued to kiss her neck. "Az-"

"I gave you an order, little one," he bit harshly at her pulse point, soaking in her gasp and moan. "I expect you to follow it."

Kaylee's eyes rolled back as she moaned again. "Look in the mirror and say you are beautiful." Kaylee pulled back from him slightly, holding eye contact with him before realizing he was serious. "Do it or I stop. I will leave you here wet and alone, Kaylee. I only play with good girls."

She whimpered softly. His hand came up to grip her jaw, turning her face to look into the mirror. He had her spread out to him, his other large hand splayed on her lower stomach and public mound. "How can you see this beautiful body, those eyes, those legs, every fucking day and not realize how beautiful you are? Say. It."

Kaylee swallowed thickly as he watched her. "I'm beautiful," Azriel's hand on her chin moved to her throat, gripping gently. His other hand moved lower again, cupping her sex as he groaned at the feeling of her dripping for him.

"Again." He commanded.

"I'm beautiful," a single finger moved through her folds, gathering wetness.

"Again, honeybee."

"I'm beautiful." Azriel pushed his finger into her tight entrance, rewarding her obedience. "Fuck, Az." He slowly pulled it out, pushing it back in again. Watching her watch him.

"Look at how pretty you look right now with your cunt swallowing my finger." She blushed instantly at his words, moaning as he curled the digit into a spot she had never found before. "Such a pretty cunt, Kaylee." He slipped a second finger in, the stretch almost burning as Kaylee moaned. "Has anyone else played with you, beautiful? Or is this tight little hole all mine?" He knew immediately based on the blush and smirked. "Say red if you want to stop at any point, baby."

His fingers began moving inside of her as he continued to force her to watch. He was opening and closing them like scissors, curling them into that spot teasingly, pulling them out just to push them back in so slowly. "You smell so fucking divine, baby. I bet you taste like heaven." He growled in her ear as she tried to look at him. He ripped his fingers from her, smacking her soaked cunt lightly. He delighted in the squeal that left her throat followed by a whine. "Eyes stay on the mirror." He pushed his fingers back in, palm grazing the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. "Follow my rules and I will reward you, Kaylee. Break them and I will have to teach you some lessons. Am I understood?"

"Yes," she nodded as best she could with the hand still holding her throat.

"Yes sir," he corrected her.

"Yes sir." He nodded and began to pleasure her again, shadows moving in play with her peaked nipples. A heat Kaylee had rarely experienced in her self exploration began to build in her stomach. A coil was tightening and building quickly as she moaned more and more. Azriel was smirking watching her, feeling her walls fluttering around his fingers. "Az," she lost her thoughts as he put pressure on her clit again.

"I know, Kaylee. I can tell. Do you want to cum? Want to soak my hand like a good girl?" She began nodding eagerly. "Do you deserve to?"

"Yes sir." She answered instantly. A smile bloomed on his face. "Please?"

"Tell me why you deserve to cum."

"Because I was good, and I listened-" She moaned loudly as his fingers began constantly curling into that spot, his palm constantly running over her clit. "Sir. Please."

"Tell me one last time what I want to hear."

"I'm beautiful."

"Yes you are, baby. Cum for me." Kaylee finished stunningly. Her back arching slightly as her hips began to ride his hand. Her lips parted in a silent scream as that coil snapped. Azriel watched in bliss, eyes wide as hers squeezed shut and her cunt pulsed around his fingers, soaking them like he had predicted.

He slowed his movements, riding her high out gently as he whispered praise in her ear. He slowly removed his fingers from her but forced her to watch him in the mirror again. He put them in his mouth, the feral being inside of him growling at the taste of her pleasure and essence. He sucked and licked his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with her. "Heaven." He confirmed before turning her in his arms. "You taste like heaven."

She fell asleep in his arms that night, his naked body pressed tight against hers. She had stopped before it went too far, wanting to wait to cross that line fully once they had looked into fae and human couplings more. Azriel had played with her hair before falling asleep as well.

He had relectantly drug himself out of her bed, only waking her to kiss her goodbye as the sun began to rise.

The next visit was silent and tense. "How long has she been missing?" Cassian asked softly. "When was she last seen?"

Elain shook her head. "She was at the healing house. They said a man came, asking for her specifically by name and claiming his son had fallen ill. Kaylee is known for her work with children. She hasn't been seen since."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right. We got that. How long ago was it?" Feyre was holding Azriel's hand tightly as the male tried to school his expression and breath.

"About two weeks ago." Nesta finally answered.

"Our sister has been gone for two weeks, and you haven't looked for her?"

"It wouldn't be the firs-" Cassian cut Nesta off with a single hand raised to her.

"I do not want to hear your excuses. Az?"

"I will find her." The shadow singer said softly. "She should have one shadow with her. If it hasn't come back to me-" His jaw tightened. The sentence didn't need to be finished as he and Rhys made eye contact and the high lord nodded. It was clear to all of the fae in the room. Kaylee was alive, but possibly in danger.

Somewhere in Hybern, Kaylee pulled her knees to her chest as she sat locked in a dark cell. Fae males were guarding her as she sniffled and cried for what felt like the 1000th time today.

She had been forced to bathe and dine with a king. One who whispered in her ear what he planned to do to her, to her sisters, before hurting her, using her, laughing while she cried and a human male watched.

Kaylee watched from the corner of her eye as the little shadow that followed her returned with more. One tried to approach the cell before falling still on the ground and regrouping to join the other ones.

She was losing hope. Hope that Rhys could hear her as she screamed for him mentally. Hope that Feyre would come save her. Losing hope that anyone could come save her. Kaylee fiddled with the chain of her necklace as she cried harder. Help me, she pleaded mentally to anyone listening. Someone please help me.

—---------

Kaylee didn't bother fighting the guards pulling her into the throne room. She knew the pathway well at this point. Nesta was struggling, Elain was crying. Kaylee just walked, numb to all of it. Nesta and Elain were stopped at a certain point while Kaylee was dragged to the King of Hybern and forced to sit at his feet.

Rhys growled loudly at the sight of her. "What did you do to her?! Kaylee! Honey, look at me!" She refused to look at Rhysand, wrapping her hand around the King's calf and playing the part of the good little toy he had forced her to become.

"You and Kaylee have something in common now dear Rhysand. You're both little pleasure whores." The king tilted her jaw, eyes sparkling with the lifelessness he found in Kaylee's. "The only difference is my toy had to be broken into submission while you handed yours away freely."

He dropped her jaw and Kaylee zoned out, waiting for what she knew was coming, almost begging for it. She blocked out Elain's screams. She blocked out the panic as Nesta stayed in too long. She blocked out the image of Cassian reaching for her older sister despite being nearly unconscious.

"Put my pet in. I want to see if she's worth breeding once she is fae." A soft growl snapped Kaylee back to reality. She knew it was Azriel. She knew he was dying. She almost fought as the Hybern guards gripped her arms, but it all went limp as one realized what she was about to do and back handed her. "Evidently there is some fight left in her. No matter, that can be fixed."

Kaylee allowed them to drag and lift her. She heard Feyre scream as Rhys held her back. But all Kaylee felt was water and cold and pain.

—--------

Azriel woke up in his own bed, squeezing his eyes shut before his hands shot to his chest. "You're fully healed," a tired voice came from the corner as Rhysand stood. "You've been asleep for 3 days."

"Cassian-" Azriel began coughing and Rhysand handed him water.

"Asleep in his room. He's been awake off and on. His wings will be fine. Just a slow healing process." Rhysand sat on the edge of Azriel's bed. "Feyre is in Spring acting as a spy. She is okay." Rhysand handed Azriel broth, hoping to help him build strength. "Nesta and Elain are awake. Traumatized, but awake and alive." He watched as Rhysand swallowed thickly. "Kaylee hasn't woken up yet. She shows no signs of waking up anytime soon. Madja and her team are monitoring her day and night. I am going into her mind every so often looking for changes."

"Take me to her." Rhysand sighed heavily at the request. "Rhys. Take me to Kaylee. Please."

The high lord nodded. "They all have powers now, Az. We can't tell what they all are, but be aware, Kaylee's body is strumming with her magic. I don't know why or what she is, but she's dangerous, Az."

Azriel nodded, moving to stand and walk with Rhys. "Did Cassian?"

"The bond snapped for him the second he saw her. We were correct. Just like I have a feeling we're about to be again." He opened the door to the room next to Azriel's.

The brothers entered the room quietly and Azriel released a soft sob. Kaylee was asleep, hair spread out on the pillow as she took deep breaths. Azriel knew what Rhysand meant immediately. Her power was intoxicating, all consuming. His eyes flicked to the birds and other animals watching from the ledge of her balcony. He shot Rhysand a questioning look, and the High Lord shrugged.

Azriel began to note the changes in her. Her ears had changed shape, her limbs slightly longer, cheekbones higher. He fixed her necklace, and removed her earrings gently. Azriel took her small hand in his, ignoring the strumming glittering bond that snapped the second he touched her.

Rhys paused as he studied the light of it. "Azriel, did you two?"

"Not to the full extent, no." His brother was stroking her head. "We played. That's it." Rhys nodded. Grabbing two chairs so they could sit with her.

He was in Kaylee's mind. She was dreaming about walking through the woods and countless animals and lesser fae. Her mind showed no signs of waking her anytime soon. "I have Amren looking into her dream symbolism and her sudden new furry and feathery friends, we have guesses, but-"

"All we can do is wait?" Azriel's voice was desperate as he kissed Kaylee's cold fingers.

"Correct. All we can do is wait."

[mxtantrights]

Bounded by shadow and blood (6)

Azriel x magic!fem!reader grab your popcorn, we're meeting some new faces! I promise I'm not making the inner court into villains, it's just the way I see them and how they fit into the plot. things will change!!

It’s been about a week since you caught Lars. Azriel left the next morning. He hadn’t even said goodbye. Which you thought was rude seeing as you were the reason the mission went so well but you didn’t take it personally. 

You wanted him gone anyways. He was asking too many questions about you.

And now that he was gone you could finally think. Think about all the stress that waits for you. Your brother gone, the throne empty and the council wishing for you to take the seat. You have about ten weeks left until you would have to go home. If you didn’t find your way there, they would find their way here and take you back.

Thesan knows everything now. You figured you couldn’t keep him in the dark about this. Especially if you were going to ask him for resources to help you look for your brother. According to Cyril he was headed for the night court. A pit grew in your chest at that information. 

What business did your brother have there? And why hasn’t he returned? 

If you wanted to avoid sitting on the throne you’d have to play nice with the night court. Even though two of its members seem to want to know more about you.

This was the type of spy work you loathed. You liked the violence of it, the attacking and planning. But you didn’t like the political aspects to it. The lie and alliances and backstabbing. You had enough of that when you grew up in Sangri. 

Right now all you wanted to do was find your brother but you would have to wait. Thesan was helping you figure out a way into the night court without having to tell them your real business being there. He had said that would be half the battle.

Apparently the high lord could enter peoples minds. Which meant even thinking about your plan could put you in danger. 

Today was the test run. Thesan invited the high lord and some members of his inner circle to a casual meeting. He’s going to spring the idea of you visiting their court. 

-

You could hear the talking and commotion from the tea room. You brushed down the frills of the dress you were wearing. Thesan told you very last minute that your guests tend to dress formal for almost everything. 

Right now the deep red dress was the only thing you had. Or, it was the only thing you felt comfortable in because everything else was for infiltration missions and you can’t be seen wearing them to this meeting. Also they were too dressy for you.

You take a deep breath and walk down the hall. The tea room doors were open. Great. You keep walking until you enter the room. All the talking stops. 

It’s a full house you realize. Thesan guessed that only four or five of them would show up but all eight of them are here. He had ran down the names for you this morning.

You obviously knew Nesta, who was sitting next to Cassian. They sit facing towards you at the table. And you knew Azriel. He was sitting next to a blonde, Morrigan. And Rhysand was sitting next to his high lady Feyre at one end of the table. Your eyes don’t quite catch who the eighth person is, their back to you. Thesan is at the other end of the table. An empty chair beside him and next to the unknown person.

“I was thinking you weren’t going to show.” Thesan joked.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “how could I miss tiny sandwich time.” 

You walk over to your seat, pulling the chair out. The person you are going to sit next to you becoming familiar all at once.

It had been a long time since you had seen her. Amren. Or at least that is the name she took after being in this world for so long. She looked almost the same as the last time you saw her, which had been some centuries ago. Right before you had come to live in the dawn court permanently you had traveled around. You ran into her once, in the middle of one of her bloodbaths. You had helped her secure the blood more easily.

“Amren?” You ask.

She smiles and launches out of her seat. She wraps her arms around you almost lifting you off the ground. You wrap your arms around her too. 

She pulls away from you first.

“How are you here right now?” She asks.

“I’m Thesan’s emissary.” You answer.

She makes a face, but she seems to pick up on the tone of your answer. You do not want to talk about it in the open.

“How do you two know each other?” 

You turn the voice that asked the question. Nesta. You should have known. 

“That’s private.” You answer.

“Rhysand could just read your mind.” Nesta argues.

“I can’t.” The high lord says.

You look over at him, “You can’t or you won’t.”

He places his elbows on the table and peers closer at you.

“I didn’t misspeak.” 

Huh. That was interesting. 

“Well, I guess tea time will finally be interesting this time Thesan.” You joke.

Thesan, who was sipping on water, almost chocked and spilt it all out. But he regained his composure and diplomacy. You take a seat next to Amren.

-

The meeting was winding down. Thesan had talked you up a bunch to the high lord. And he of course insisted that even you could visit the night court and still return to the dawn court.

Rhysand had said that the sights would surprise you but you remained confident it wouldn’t. You two had a bit of a push and pull throughout the whole meeting that seemed to intrigue everyone.

While the rest of the inner circle lingered in the tea room and you Amren stepped out to talk in private. You brought her to one of the sitting rooms and closed the door. 

“Okay, explain yourself right now.” She speaks.

“It’s a very long story, but I need you to do your best to keep my powers a secret.” You say.

Amren makes a face at that, crosses her arms across her chest too. She wasn’t going to like doing it, but for the time being your abilities are on a need to know basis. The rest of the inner circle doesn’t need to know.

“Azriel told all of us how you took him down. It won’t be hard for them to go digging around with what they know.” She replies.

You nod your head at her words. She is right. It was stupid pulling a movie like that over Azriel. If he didn’t figure it out on his own surely having the help of the rest of the inner circle would help. You just wanted to wipe the smugness that he exuded. 

“My brother has gone missing.” You admit.

Amren uncrosses her arms.

“For how long?” She asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I mean the council says he was away on a month long trip, but now I’m thinking it was a month long head start.”

“You think he ran?” She asks again.

“I don’t know, no one will tell me anything besides the fact that I am next in line.” You explain.

“What?!” She shouts.

You try to quiet her and grab her hands in yours, “My sentiments exactly. He spawned no children and we have no uncles or aunts. I’m the only one.” 

“So you’re to be queen?” Amren says, shocked.

“I am not to be queen, Amren. I am to find my brother and tie him to the throne if I have to. And I wouldn’t even be queen if I took the throne, I’d be empress.” You clarify.

She lets out a laugh, “And you don’t want that?” 

“Amren the last thing I want to do is rule over people. I just want to do what I want.”

She grips your hands tighter, “And if your brother…”

You know what she means when she lets the words trail off. What if your brother is dead. You can't imagine it, you can't think it. You can't.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. That is why I’m going to visit your court soon.” you say.

“To look for him?” 

You nod, “Apparently he was headed there.”

She gives you a look. As if to ask you if you really believe that he would tell the people he was running from his next location. You sigh. It was the only piece of information you had on the matter. That and the fact that he wasn’t home.

“I’ll put in a word about wanting you to visit to Rhys.” She says.

At that you wrap your arms around her in a hug. She hugs you back.

“Thank you Amren. You don’t know how much this means to me.” You smile.

“If it comes down to them or you, I pick you every time.” She admits.