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#his hair is so straight like that's fae straight hair
sanyu-thewitch05 · 4 months
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More Black! F! Yuu scenarios and headcanons
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After the Mrs. Jackson incident, Malleus had a meeting with Silver, Lilia, Sebek, the Heartslabyul friends, The Octavinelle Trio, The Pomefiore trio, and Ruggie on how to season up their food.
👑: I can't believe you called us here for this.
🐉: Please, I need help.
🐙: Don't involve us in your unseasoned mess.
The Octavinelle trio leaves the room, leaving Malleus pleading for their help.
🐉: Wait, please, you're the only three white people I know how to actually use seasonings. Ruggie, help me out, you live in Savannaclaw.
🐆: And I'm just lightskinned.
Ruggie leaves after that making Malleus confused.
🐉: He's Black? Nevermind, just please help me!
🐆: Well, I guess you could do her hair or something…look, just do something that’s not weird.
With that idea, Malleus goes into town and buys every black hair product he sees on the shelves that you might like.
Then, he bursts into your dorm asking if he can wash your hair.
🦐: Yeah…sure…I guess. It’s wash day for me anyway.
🐉: THANK YOU CHILD OF MAN!
Malleus drags you into the bathroom and runs the shower head over your scalp.
His long fingernails practically massage your scalp as he washes it. It also picks up and takes out all the dandruff.
When he’s conditioning your hair, he decides to start small talk.
🐉: So, Yuu, how’s Grim?
🦐: He’s doing well. By the way, what made you want to do my hair today?
🐉: o///o well…I just wanted to be closer to you that’s all.
🦐: Aww, that’s sweet of you.
He washes the conditioner out of your hair, then puts the leave in on your scalp.
This is when the real fun begins. He’s perfect as finger coiling your hair, and with fae abilities, he can do all your hair within 30 minutes.
Then he grabs you, making sure you hold on tight to him, and he spins around creating a fire tornado to creatively dry your hair.
🦐: Wooo! Hahaha!
🐉: And done!
🦐: My hair looks amazing! Thank you!
When you hug Malleus, his brain stops operating.
Then when Malleus leaves, you can actually tell the truth to yourself.
You look like a Victorian child with ringlet curls.
Somehow, Malleus managed to do the method right, but the outcome was horrendous.
You call Jack, Ruggie, Leona, and Sam to help you.
🦐: *Sigh* Go ahead.
🦞: HAHAHA! GIRL! WHY DID YOU LET HIM PLAY IN YOUR HAIR?!
🦁: I knew that pasty lizard would do something stupid again.
🐺: I smell burnt hair.
🐆: Your hair is crunchy, and I don't even know if it's because your hair is burnt or if it's the gel cast.
🦐: I get it, I shouldn't have let that white boy do my hair.
🦞: Come on, let's help you out.
Each boy takes on a section, and they redo your finger coils.
After much time, they get your hair right(the results are the photo at the top).
When you leave for dinner, Malleus is beaming at you.
🐉: I knew my hairstyle would turn out well!
🦐: Well...you know what, it did.
🦁: *Growling from pure rage*
🦞: Let him take the credit, Leona. If you point out he messed up with Yuu again, he'll just do something even stupider next time.
🦁: Fine.
🐆: Did I ever tell you how Malleus thought I was white earlier this morning?
The four boys bust out laughing in the hallway.
🦞: How did you go from yellowbone to passé blanc?!
🐆: I don't know because everyone knows I'm lightskinned, but I guess nobody told him that! HAHA!
🦁: HAHAAHA!
🦐: *Choking on her laughter as it spills out* Don't worry Malleus-augh-it's-ha-it's- you didn't know-hahahaha!
🐉: *Whimpers into Yuu's chest*
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elizzsush · 3 months
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Beastmen Courting Rituals | TWST
Savanaclaw Dorm X Reader
Leona X Reader, Ruggie X Reader, Jack X Reader,
---- BeastFolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, some even taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 1/3)
Note: Fun fact, I began making Fae courting first but then I posted the future kid thing and didn't want to post two Diasomnia so close together!
Octavinelle Ver | Diasomnia Ver.
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Jack:
It started very small, one day he was there, the next he was there again, and the next he was also there.
He was always there.
Then it got a bit... weird? You noticed that when he would approach you, he was making this grumbling, whining sounds? You don't even think he realized it. You chose to ignore this fact for now, maybe it was just because he was a beast man? You didn't want to be rude by saying anything- or make him feel embarrassed.
After that he began to help you with your hair more as well. Well, your general appearance. He'd help you fix your uniform and brush off any dust or anything you'd may want or need help with. In turn you helped him back, it was only fair after all!
Never mind his flushed face while you did this, moving small hairs back in place and picking any particles off his own uniform.
"There's our dynamic pair! beauty and the beast man." Ace teased, a confident grin on his face while you sat down at the table, Jack not too far behind you.
Jack just rolled his eyes, a small blush on his face as he ignored Ace. Aka, while he did the smart thing to do. You, however, have yet to learn that Despite so many months of friendship and raised an eyebrow at the Card boy. "What are you talking about." You rolled your eyes at the boy.
"You don't know? but it's so obvious!" Ace frowned, Grim nodding beside him in agreement, though you doubted he even knew what the boy was talking about. "His tail is always wagging like a fan when he's talking to ya! He's totally in l-" just as Ace was about to finish speaking Jack piped up, his ears straight on his head in an alert manner and his tail stiff behind him.
"I didn't get anything to drink when we got food." He excused himself, you tried to get a look at his face because he wasn't looking at you but he didn't look back and stood up.
Glancing at his tray, you didn't fail to notice the milk carton on it. Plush, Jack was always the prepared, diligent one. That was so odd... You glanced back at Ace only to find him laughing to himself like the funniest thing just happened. "Whatever, where is Deuce?" You rolled your eyes.
"Why should I know? I'm not his mom."
After that, Ace started calling you dense. Maybe you were because you really didn't know what the hell he was talking about.
After that it was like there was a switch in Jack. He began to be touchier, not that you minded of course! Cuddling with friends is always nice, and you liked to think it was because of his more... animalistic features and instincts he was cuddlier.
But somehow it felt more intimate. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck and hang off of you like he was a coat instead of a large man who was... well jacked.
You'd often wrestle him off of you because he had gotten into the habit of, as you said before, hanging off of you! He'd whine and almost instinctually wrestle you back to stay into his place.
You may not be as strong as him, but you also didn't hate the way he'd run with you at P.E. You knew he could easily run laps around everyone, but instead he stuck with you. Smiling at you exhausted look and cheering you on. "I'm sure Coach Vargas wouldn't mind us taking a break?" He laughs a bit awkwardly after you glared at him for suggesting it when he barely even broke a sweat.
It wasn't till after Leona off Handly mentioned something about you smelling like Jack. Even wrinkling his nose and saying that he "didn't have to lay it on that thick." That you started to think, maybe, just maybe, something else was going on here.
So, you went to the library. Got yourself your very own book (that you had to return in two weeks) on Beastfolk Mating rituals.
Suddenly, it made sense why Ace thought you were dense. Apparently, this was commonish knowledge in this world! And maybe you were ignoring pretty obvious signs now that you thought about it.
So, one afternoon when Jack was hanging off of you, that look in his eyes you hadn't noticed till now. You bit his hand. His ears straightened in surprise and he looked at you for a moment. A thick blush on his face.
"Am I dense or are you courting me?" You finally asked now that you had his attention.
"I have been for a while now..." He sheepishly admitted while not looking you in the eye.
____________
Ruggie:
He avoided you like the plague, at first.
Even now, sometimes when he's approaching you, you noticed that he might backtrack and hesitate.
Now he is a lot more relaxed, often hanging off of your shoulder. Now that he knows you won't bite his head off. His tail would wag behind him slightly while he interacted with you. A stark contrast to the stiff, alert eared boy he was just a little while ago!
You will say though, it did take some of your lunches to get here. You'd equate this process to that of getting a scared cat to approach you with treats. Now, you didn't even need the treats to get him around! He'd approach you first now too. Still with hesitance, but once he did come up to you he did seem to enjoy himself.
"He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck. "He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck.
"It's so weird to see a Ruggie-Senpai hang out with you so much." Deuce said off handedly one afternoon. You two were studying together when he thought of this.
"What do you mean?" You couldn't help but ask the card solider. Putting your pen down as you looked at him curiously.
The boy just shrugged, a odd look on his face. "I don't know, I just thought Hyena beast men were more... You know." he added a bit awkwardly. You decided to drop it there.
"Yeah... Anyway, I think I remember-"
The interaction stood out in your head, however. What exactly did Deuce even mean? After that interaction, you noticed a couple things as well. Beast students would look at you and nodded at you in recognition? Leona's nose would scrunch up a bit when you spoke to him (though he never made any comments on it), and when you walked into Savanaclaw a beast guy once mistook you for Ruggie before he looked at you?
What did any of that even mean?! When you asked Jack, he just said you smelt like Ruggie.
That small interaction you had with Deuce quickly began to send you down a hill of thinking about everything Ruggie ever did! How he hung off of you, and how you two hung out. It got even weirder when Ruggie offered you some food. Like he had been for a while.
This was very out of character for the Hyena boy! How did you not realize it before? So, you asked him about it. "How come you always offer me something when we eat together?"
He blushed a bit looking at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head, "I do that don't I?" he laughed awkwardly, "I mean I bring food home for the neighborhood kids too. We all got to eat; you know?" He shrugged it off. You wondered what that meant, because he didn't do it with anyone else, but you failed to push him on the subject.
Your sad to say, you never fully realized what was happening till someone explained it to you.
He knocked on Ramshackle door with a handful of pretty dandelions and asked you on a date. "Perfect, would you like to um... go out with me?" he asked hesitantly, a nervous smile on his face while he put his head down. Like he was trying to protect his neck...
You said yes and it was after that Leona explained how annoying it was watching you two and basically inadvertently explained everything to you...
"That would have been helpful to know sooner." You grumbled to yourself after talking with the lion.
"Eh? Ignore him shyhehe!~ Ruggie just snickered with his usual sly smile.
____________
Leona:
Leona didn't really have time for games. If he liked, you he'd just come out and say it. At least, that's what you had first thought. Yes, he did use your lap as a pillow and you two did cuddle somewhat regularly. That didn't exactly mean anything. Right?
And yeah, Ruggie did scrunch his nose up and complain that you smelt too much like Leona, but that didn't matter. Leona probably didn't mean to do that; he was probably sleeping.
Did Leona roar at you? Yeah, so what? It was like a yawn; it just came out. No, he wasn't blushing! He couldn't be because you were already looking away in embarrassment.
Leona just didn't like you like that. No matter how many Courting book you read on beast men!
The Lion man in question invited you out to a Spelldrive tournament he had been practicing for. Obviously, you went without a second thought. It would be nice to see the lazy lion not lazing around for once! At least that's how you justified it.
You definitely didn't want to just see your crush play a match.
You couldn't help but notice the whole time, how Leona kept looking at you in your seat. Making sure you had just seen him perform. You'd smile and cheer for him and maybe, just maybe, a sense of pride would build up in his chest.
And maybe it was really nice to hear you cheer, and see you jump up from your seat in excitement. And maybe it was really nice to be able to cheer for him.
So you planned to confess to him after this game. "Leona I really liked you! I have for a while now!" And you did.
"Finally." He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, you two then went to cuddle in the garden.
Did that mean you two were together now...?
____________
A/N: I know that some dorms aren't like nonhuman, but I can imagine that like Riddle was taught like courting customs in The Queendom of Roses, (Some queen of heart rule) or like the scalding sands have some costumes? Like the world changes because of beastmen/Fae customs and people adapted to that and added it to their own ways of approaching a relationship? Idk lol
Sorry Leona's part was quite short, I was getting tired and just wanted to get this out! But thank you for reading!
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puppetmaster13u · 10 months
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Prompt 102
 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-” 
 Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well. 
 “You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together. 
  “And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up. 
 Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-
 “You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.” 
 Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this. 
 “Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling. 
 “-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling? 
 All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members. 
 “And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with. 
 “... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting. 
 Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.
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florencemtrash · 8 months
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In a year's time - Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Angst, jealous Azriel, fluff
Masterlist of Masterlists
"But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him."
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Mor narrowed her eyes at the Shadowsinger, watching as he adjusted the collar of his newly tailored suit jacket and then combined his hair back with scarred fingers. 
Azriel had always been annoyingly beautiful - even during their middling years when their voices cracked and they hadn’t yet grown into their long, slender limbs - and so he’d never needed to take special care of his appearance. His hair dried in perfect waves, his skin was smooth and clean despite the scars, and his training had carved out a silhouette as strong and capable as it was alluring. So why did he keep smoothing down his waistcoat like he was nervous?
Mor darted out a tongue, cleaning up the drop of wine that threatened to fall from her ruby red lips, “Azriel? What in the Mother’s name are you doing?” 
His eyes barely flicked over to where she lay sprawled out on his bed. She had no intention of attending this ball sober, and if the near empty bottle of wine balanced precariously against her knee was any indication, she would exceed her goal before they even stepped outside his bedroom. 
He picked up the tie - midnight blue and hand-embroidered with silver thread - and flung it around his neck.
“Getting ready for the ball.” He answered blandly.
She rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” then continued to stare at him expectantly as he finished knotting the tie, folded his pocket square, and then slid his weapons into place as a last measure, cobalt blue siphons flashing from the backs of his hands. 
It clicked all at once as he strolled for the door, forcing Mor to abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle. 
“Oh my gods.” She said, mouth agape. Her shoes clicked along the marble floors of the River House like the beating of drums. 
Azriel groaned internally. Even tipsy and wearing seven-inch heels, Mor kept up with his long strides easily, prodding his side accusingly with her wine bottle. It magically refilled itself with every jab.
“You’re trying to impress Y/n!” 
Suddenly it was as obvious as the sun rising in the east. He’d chosen the tie you complimented him on last Starfall, despite his hatred of its fanciful nature. He was wearing the silver moonstone cufflinks you’d bought him for his birthday. He’d even combed his hair because he knew you’d notice and muss it up for him.
“Mor-” He warned, color beginning to dust his cheeks. His shadows darted around the hallway, climbing the velvet curtains and peering around the corners to watch for any potential eavesdropping. 
“I knew it! I knew it!” She said, swatting him with a frustrated hand. Her red silk dress clung to her waist and thighs before fluttering out in a halo around her knees as she chased after him, aiming to slap him across the head. 
Azriel stopped in his tracks and grabbed at her wrists, desperately hoping no one else in the house had left their rooms yet. If he was really lucky, the two mated couples would be making enough noise of their own to drown out Mor’s excitement.
“Mor, stop it. And be quiet.”
“You loooove her.” She crowed, dragging out the sound. Suddenly she straightened up, hands on her hips and frowning, “Is that why you’ve been so irritable lately? Because you miss her?” 
Azriel said nothing, gave away nothing, even though Mor had hit the nail on the head in her drunken stupor. 
It had been a great honor when Thesan offered to take you under his wing and train you personally. More than a favor to Rhysand, he’d seen your healing talent and wanted your expertise to be well represented in the Dawn Court. So a year ago you’d packed up your things and said your goodbyes.
“It’s only temporary.” You’d promised him, “I’ll be back before you know it. In a year’s time.”
But a lot could change in a year. You’d sent plenty of letters back and forth to each other, and Azriel would be loath to admit that he slept with them clutched against his chest every night so whispers of your scent would chase the nightmares away. 
But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him.
He was happy for you and had been the one to encourage you to move to Dawn. But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you terribly. You’d been missing from his side like a torn limb, and Azriel had been walking through life at a crooked angle ever since. 
“I don’t-” He sighed, he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love you. He just couldn’t, “It’s none of your business, Mor.” He amended. 
He released her wrists breezed past her, but she sprinted ahead of him, splaying her limbs out on the staircase to block his path.
“You need to tell her you love her. Tonight.” She commanded. Her words slurred out gently, the faerie wine finally kicking in when she’d wanted it to. “I mean it, Az.” 
He shook his head, “I can’t tell her tonight.” 
“Why not?” 
“I haven’t seen her in a year! I can’t drop that kind of truth on her.” 
“Yes you can!” She fought back. There was some muddled piece of information hanging at the edges of her mind, something important she needed to tell Az. But the wine held it back. Fuck. She cursed inwardly.
“No. I. Can’t.”
“Yes. You. Can.” She was practically seething, pearly brown eyes unfocused but unrelenting. She knows something I don’t, Azriel realized in a burst of shock. 
“What is it, Mor? What did she tell you?”
She blinked, dropping her arms from the burnt umber railings. His heart quickened. Had his worst fears come true? Had you found someone else in Dawn worth staying for?
“I-” Damn it. She shouldn’t have finished the second bottle. She cradled it protectively against her chest, feeling the glass cool her hot skin, “I don’t fucking remember.” 
“What do you mean you don’t remember?”
“I mean, I’m drunk, Az. And drunk Mor doesn’t remember shit.”
His heart quickened further, a crushing sense of guilt and loss wrapping around his chest like a corset and tightening. Mor at least was saved from further useless interrogation when Rhysand and Feyre bounded out from down the hallway, tastefully disheveled and looking sinful in Night Court black. 
Rhysand cleared his throat, straightening his dinner jacket and absent-mindedly straightening Feyre’s crown for her, “Everyone ready to leave?” His eyes glazed over, calling out to the last missing members of their party. 
Cassian and Nesta spilled out of their room next, the braids of her coronet slipping out and spilling over her heaving chest. Azriel tipped his head to the ceiling and cursed silently. Mother have mercy…
Nesta pulled up on the strap of her lace dress, only to find that it had been torn to ribbons. 
Cassian was in no better shape - the collar of his white shirt was smeared with lipstick, although he didn’t have the same sense as Nesta to look annoyed at the interruption to their… activities. A toothy grin bloomed on his face, shoulder-length hair tangled like someone had been yanking it for hours.
“Can’t make it tonight, Rhys.” He said. He glanced down at Nes, “I’m not feeling well.” 
“Me neither.” Nesta said hastily, slipping back behind the door and hauling Cassian inside with her like he weighed as light as a feather. Four months after their mating ceremony and they were as insatiable as ever. 
“You’re full of shit, Cass!” Rhys called out just before the door slammed shut. A muffled Fuck you! Came from within, followed by a, Tell Y/n we’ll see her at home! From Nesta. 
They winnowed to the outskirts of Daybreak Hill, landing in a field of cushiony moss dotted with pink and violet heather that stirred in the breeze like the dusk-painted clouds above. 
Feyre sighed deeply, breathing in the scent of lavender and rosewater. She loved Velaris and no one could hold a candle to the beauty of the Night Court… except perhaps Dawn. 
It was like someone had laid a mirror flat on the earth. Periwinkle skies kissed rolling sage green hills dotted with red-roofed villages and sank into lakes of pearl and lavender until it was impossible to tell where the sky started or ended. 
The Dawn Court Palace’s twisting spires of honey marble glowed brighter than the setting sun. So brightly in fact that Mor had to help shield Azriel’s eyes with her soft hands as he carried them up through low-hanging satin clouds. Dots of scarlet and midnight black soaring through cotton skies. 
His hands turned clammy and the tightness in his chest felt like a giant’s fist squeezing his heart, but he convinced himself it was the thin air that was responsible, and not the raging longing in his heart for you. Still, he had to appreciate the beauty of the red-roofed villages below, tinkering hands hard at work inside chestnut workshops filled with glistening bronze and copper. 
They dove through the columns into the open-air hall, any dampness from the mist magicked away by Thesan’s careful hands as he stepped down from the golden dias to greet his honored guests. His rich, copper-colored skin radiated light, melting with the darkness that rippled off Rhysand and Feyre’s shoulders as they shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries. 
Mor stretched her silky arms above her hands, catching the eyes of a cherub-faced female reaching to grab a flute from the champagne tower. Normally, Mor would have been flattered, but with Emerie at home and a wine-drunk haze over her mind, she was feeling more anxious than anything else. What the fuck was it that she was trying to remember?
Faelights bloomed above him, tinkered in the shapes of roses that gently pulsed, fluttering petals propelling them across the room in a sway of light. 
But Azriel was barely paying attention. His eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for a silhouette he knew as intimately as the ridges of his hands. 
There. 
You stood across the room, half-hidden in the stone archway beside Thesan’s lover, Herades. You bowed your head towards him in silent conversation, nursing a glass of champagne in your hand to try and cool your nerves. Azriel would be arriving soon, if he wasn’t already here, cradling the walls in search of dark corners like he was bound to do. You’d been imagining all the ways you’d greet him - with a joke, with a meaningful embrace, with a kiss. You shook her head, pushing the last thought out of your mind and focusing on Herades’s story again. 
Your laugh was a flare of light blooming at the end of a match. Azriel stared utterly captivated. Time moved slower than syrup when you finally met his eyes and smiled with an affection more precious than gold. 
“Az!” You squeezed Herades’s arm, politely excusing yourself, and then you were off. You sprang across the room in a billow of cream fabric, like milk poured into coffee. The tips of your pleated skirts were touched with blue like you’d waded out into the night sky. The color matched the ribbon in your hair, and the siphons of a certain lovestruck Shadowsinger. 
“Y/n,” He breathed out. You flowed into his arms and he gathered you into them like a bouquet of wildflowers, breathing in your familiar scent of rosemary and peppermint. Gods I missed you. He whispered in his mind, hoping that somehow you’d hear it at the end of that glowing thread.
But the hug was short-lived. Too short-lived. 
“Mor!” You sang in that melodic voice he loved so much, grasping for her next, then Rhys, then Feyre. 
Thesan looked on humbly, sighing faintly when Herades caught up to you and immediately slid to Thesan’s side. 
“Oh I’ve missed you all so much.” You said, rocking back and forth. 
“We missed you,” Feyre said into your hair. She was the one to pull away, smoothing out ribbon and giving you a once-over look. 
Your time had been well-spent at the Dawn Court. Extra color bronzed your cheeks and tinted your lips a pale berry shade. You stood up straighter, smiled a little wider, and walked with an extra height to your step. You’d always been beautiful and graceful, but it was like you were aware of it now - like you’d grown the last few inches into your body. 
“You look lovely, Y/n.” Feyre said and Mor agreed enthusiastically, commenting on your dress and your hair and your… well everything.
“Thank you,” You said, blushing, “Thesan’s treated me very well.” 
That was an understatement. He’d set you up in his personal household, paid you handsomely (even more than Rhysand paid you if that were possible), and had had the royal seamstress sew ten dresses for you to pick from for tonight’s ball alone. It was your party after all in commemoration of the advancements you’d made in child birthing practices. You’d handled twelve pregnancies alone in the past year across Dawn and Winter, all of the children delivered safely and as plump and rosy as summer cherries. 
“And you’ve repaid it to my court ten-fold.” Thesan said and held up his drink. Even Herades smiled, tawny feathers flaring out with pride. You were responsible for the safety of his sister-in-law and the birth of his nephew - hawk wings and all. 
It was a flurry of activity following the Night Court’s fashionably late arrival. You dragged Azriel and Mor up to the dais after Rhys and Feyre. Traditionally the table was only meant for High Lords and their partners, but Thesan was a unique and progressive leader in more ways than one. 
Herades and Thesan sat in the middle with Feyre and Rhysand, leaving you, Azriel, and Mor at one end and Thesan’s sister and her husband at the other. 
Azriel was eternally grateful when Mor lunged for the center-most seat, forcing you to sit between her and Azriel. You bumped knees with him, leaning close as you whispered about the Court gossip you’d managed to overhear from the cooks or discussing the progress you’d made in the Winter Court. 
Course after course appeared in front of him and disappeared, hardly touched. He wasn’t hungry for anything other than you, focusing on the crease within your brows as you tried to remember all the news you couldn’t write to him about or the twist of your perfect, flushed lips as you displayed your displeasure and your joy. 
If he believed himself to be worthy of your affection he would have whisked you away hours ago, disappearing into whichever room in the palace was yours and pressing you against the wall, lip-locked until the need for air forced him to stop. 
“How are Kallias and Viviane doing?” Mor asked, perking up at the mention of the Winter Court.
You smiled, your cheeks flushing with color, “I’m not supposed to say, Mor, so you must promise not to tell anyone. Anyone.” Mor locked her mouth and threw away the key. Your lips brushed against the sharp curve of her ear, “She’s pregnant.” 
Mor clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly upsetting the glass of wine balanced precariously on the edge of the table. One of Azriel’s shadows darted out, pushing it safely out of the way of her swaying arms.
“Stop.” She hissed in disbelief. Her golden hair seemed to brighten with her cheeks. 
You nodded, “With twins.” 
Tears flooded her eyes, “That wench didn’t tell me.” 
“She’s been busy, if you can imagine.” 
“Still!” Mor muttered under her breath, eating her food slowly and sipping on her wine quickly. She gave up on being sober the more males approached her from the base of the dais, bowing deeply with proud, puffed up chests and asking for a dance. Word had gone around about her… preferences, and far from dissuading suitors, it seemed to have been offered up as a challenge as to who could change her mind. Thank the gods Emerie had declined the invitation to join them. She would have castrated half these males in an instant, if Mor didn’t beat her to it. 
Thesan, gratefully, put an end to it once he caught onto the pattern. One sharp look from him sent them scampering back, coattails between their legs. 
There was one final male though who ignored the previous warnings, humbly bleeding out of the crowd as remnants of rose cake disappeared from the tables and the quartet swelled to include twelve musicians plus a singer. Full, cream-colored wings hovered above the ground, tawny-tipped and lush. Even Mor had to admit, with his olive skin, amber eyes, and warm honey curls he was stunning. Like liquid gold poured out of the setting sun. 
He bowed deeply, a subtle smile on his face. Azriel went rigid, seeing you lean forward out of the corner of his eye with a blush coating your cheeks. 
Mor closed her eyes and groaned. Fuuuuuuuck. That’s what she’d forgotten about. Or rather whom she’d forgotten about. 
Naemon - the golden boy who’d begun to court you seven months back. You’d dropped his name only a handful of times in your letters to Mor. Not enough times to convince Mor you were actually taken with him, but enough times for her to remember the bastard’s name. 
“Y/n,” His voice was silky smooth and kind, “May I have the first dance with you?” He asked politely. 
Your breath caught in your throat and you risked a glance over at Azriel. He looked… bored and unaffected. He reached for his glass, looking more interested in the faerie wine than the male who’d just asked for your hand. It was stupid of you to think he would care for you  as anything more than a friend, and even more foolish of you to think he might be jealous. 
You pushed away from the table and floated down the dais, taking the strong and sturdy hand Naemon offered you. The first song was too spirited and quick to reveal any true feelings. It was a blur of silks and lean arms as you wove through the sea of dancers and were gently tossed from partner to partner. But the second song was slower, more intimate. Naemon flashed a look of gratitude to the singer, who winked in return, before scooping one arm around your waist, hand flat on the small of your back. You rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling the rolling of muscle beneath his crisp linen tunic, and held his free hand. 
Naemon was a kind and gentle male. After the death of his parents, he’d all but raised his younger sister Namia on his own, relying on the money he earned in the Peregryn legion to make ends meet. It was his care for his sister that had first drawn him to you - any misgivings he’d had melting away as you grew close to Namia from among the other healers. You’d supported her throughout her pregnancy, become her friend, and served as a balm to his anxieties whenever his duties took him away for long stretches of time. 
You looked down bashfully, apologizing for missing one of the dance steps and crushing his toe, “I’m better at the quicksteps.” You explained. 
Naemon smiled brilliantly, and you couldn’t stop the faint flutter in your chest, “I can’t blame you. The slow ones can get boring. Leaves too much time for overthinking.” 
“Exactly.” Too much time for overthinking about a certain Shadowsinger.
 You’d never given Naemon any false pretenses about your feelings, always reminding him and Namia that your position in Dawn was temporary. But still… It felt nice to be courted by someone as open as him. With Naemon you never had to guess whether he wanted you or not - you knew he did. The flowers he often left in the healer’s temple, or the offers to take you out to dinner or to dances like this one proved it. 
A curl of guilt coiled in your stomach. Maybe now was a good time to bow out and return to your seat. Surely the slow waltz would be finishing soon. The-
“You’re overthinking again.” Naemon said, his full lips brushing against the sharp curve of your ear and heating the gold cuffs you wore. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Y/n. If you’re enjoying yourself - if you like dancing with me - keep doing it.”
“Naemon-” You began apologetically.
He shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” He said honestly, “I just want to dance with you tonight. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
You stared into his eyes, finding nothing but truth in them. A portion of your nerves melted away and you found that when the cello began to hum out a simple tune, you were still holding onto him and letting him move you through the next movements. 
Azriel was barely holding on by a thread. Wine glass now empty and clenched dangerously between shadow covered hands. Rhys shot him a look, and when his attempts to breach his brother’s mental shields were met with resistance, he turned to Mor. 
What’s wrong with him? His eyes flashed the question.
He’s being an ass who can’t come to terms with his emotions. Mor grumbled back, sinking into her seat with a fling of yellow-gold waves. 
Rhys’s eyes went from confused to wide open as he shot a look to you across the dance floor. Fuck.
Feyre followed her mate’s attention with a look of concern, and then traced Azriel’s steely gaze to the dance floor where you were smiling reservedly up at Naemon. You two made a handsome couple, weaving a clear path through the other dancers as they parted for his magnificent feathered wings. 
Azriel stiffened. He’d never been particularly proud of his Illyrian heritage, but his wings… his wings were one of the few true beauties he possessed. But in comparison to the golden-boy warrior that smiled at you and brushed back a loose strand of hair with his soft hands, Azriel found himself lacking… once again. 
Naemon was a gentle breeze where Azriel was blistering wind. He was a wide open door, every look he gave you filled with clear affection. Azriel was a dozen locked boxes, each one nestled within the other with all the keys rusted and thrown away. Naemon looked reserved and in control. Azriel felt completely out of it, and it took every inch of willpower to keep the mating bond from driving him mad enough to launch across the dancefloor and bruise Naemon’s high, perfect cheekbones.
But then the dance ended and Naemon parted from you long enough to reach behind his back and pluck a feather from his wing. A few shocked gasps scattered throughout the room. Even Thesan and Herades looked on with raised eyebrows, leaning close enough to touch. 
The feather was a beauty - the length of Naemon’s forearm and such a pure white it glimmered like moonlight. You froze, staring down at the treasure he offered you with bated breath. 
Peregryns were fiercely protective of their wings and rightfully so. To be allowed near them alone was a great honor. To touch them was an intimate act reserved for family members and lovers. To be offered a feather?! In some circles it was akin to being gifted a thousand roses. In other circles it was tantamount to a marriage proposal.
Both offers were completely overwhelming to you.
“Naemon-” You began carefully, backing away, “I-I can’t.” 
He smiled softly, eyes flashing briefly up to the dias where the Shadowsinger had gotten up to his feet, something like desperation and longing buried deep beneath the layers of his hazel eyes. 
“Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” Naemon said resignedly, “But please, take this,” He begged, spreading open your fingers before curling them again around the feather, “For everything you’ve done for my family.” 
And because I love you, even if you don’t love me back - were the words he didn’t say aloud.
“Naemon-” A shadow fell over your feet, curling around your ankles and skirts and tugging you away like a child seeking attention.
Naemon, for all his relative youth and gentle disposition, didn’t seem surprised or affected by the Shadowsinger’s presence. Azriel hovered close behind you, eyes blown open and desperate. 
Please don’t. He silently begged. Please don’t say yes to him.
He almost melted with relief when Naemon only dipped his head in acknowledgement and kissed the palm of your hands. Even that innocent touch made Azriel’s stomach turn. 
You turned when Naemon finally disappeared into the crowd. “Azriel, I-”
You had half a mind to hide the feather behind your back, but you couldn’t do such a cruel thing to Naemon. And it wasn’t like Azriel hadn’t watched the whole thing unfold in front of him. You clasped the feather in your hands, careful not to ruffle the delicate barbs.
Azriel was no longer bored and unaffected. In fact he seemed unnaturally flustered and nervous. 
He swallowed thickly, mindful of the curious stares you were attracting. Not only had you just been proposed to, but now you were being approached by a male from your past after an ambiguous response - you’d accepted the feather, but Naemon had left alone. The court gossips would have a field day, if they weren’t already.
“Y/n,” He said, his voice thin and quiet. A mere whisper among the riff raff that was steadily building up again in a crescendo, “Can we please talk?” His wings fluttered nervously, and he shot a dangerous look at a male who came too close to you, “In private? Please?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d barely recovered from Naemon’s dramatic display and you were scared about what Azriel might offer next. 
Still you mumbled, “Oh-um… yes.” 
The words were barely out of your mouth before Azriel’s hand was on your wrist, delicately leading you through the crowd towards the archway and into the hallway beyond. Fae mingled about in their finery, happy to escape the music and the sweep of dancers. 
Azriel scowled. This was hardly any more private. 
“My quarters are further down this hall,” You offered, pointing down a sky bridge that connected the public wings of the palace to the private ones. Azriel exhaled in relief, nodding and following you as you cut through unfamiliar halls draped in rich reds, golds, and turquoises. 
You stopped at a door of solid oak, hand painted to look like it had been lifted from the pages of a storybook. Resplendent gold filigree traced the footsteps of maidens running along hills dense with colorful flora. Water trickled down from the mountain tops, so realistic that Azriel was amazed to find the handwoven carpets in your room were dry. 
You peered down the hall before closing the door with a gentle whisper. Only the songbirds nesting in the high crevices bore witness to your activities. 
You hesitated and then tucked the feather into one of the empty jewelry boxes on the vanity. Out of sight, but not out of mind. 
Azriel stood motionless by the door, watching as you closed the box and slid it back against the mirror.
“Did you say yes?” He whispered, hating the way his voice caught in his throat, “Do you love him?”
You turned around quickly, the length of ribbon in your hair rippling through the air to land on your collarbone. Azriel was upon you in an instant close enough for you to feel his shallow breathing, but all he did was trace the blue ribbon with his fingers and then push it back over your shoulder.
“I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered and your face burned with feeling. Azriel had asked you for privacy so he could ask you about Naemon? 
Azriel clenched his fists once. Twice. “The male you were dancing with. The feather-”
You blushed deeply, turning your face away to hide your embarrassment. You had hoped he didn’t know about that Peregryn custom.
He gently gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling your gaze back to him. You blinked in surprise. For once Azriel looked… scared.
“Did you say yes to him? Please. Tell me.” 
If you had said yes he might just shrivel up into nothing on the spot. Why had he waited so long to tell you his feelings? Why had he waited so long to tell you about the bond? But if he did it now it would just be terrible timing all around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You shook your head and Azriel’s wings dropped in relief, eyes closing as he murmured a quiet thanks to the Mother beneath his breath.
“He-it wasn’t even a real proposal. He gave it to me as thanks for helping his sister. That’s all.” 
He gave you a pointed look like he knew you were lying. There was no questioning Naemon’s feelings for you. No questioning at all.
“You never answered my second question.” 
You crumpled under his gaze. Gods, he looked beautiful tonight. Torturously so. It wasn’t fair. Naemon had loved you openly, never given you cause to doubt his intentions nor made you feel guilty for not returning his feelings. And yet here you were, still pining after the male who’d never seen you as more than a friend. A male whose intentions were never clear. A male who always made you question how well you knew him, and whether those small touches and reserved smiles and affectionate letters were just a polite kindness or something more. 
“No.” It felt wrong of you to admit it so callously, even if it was the truth, “No I don’t love him.”
Azriel looked ready to kiss the ground and something about that set a fire within you. Leave it to Azriel to ignore any romantic advances from you, to chase after other females left and right for literal centuries, and then get upset the moment another male found you appealing. 
You huffed, pushing him away harshly and crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s none of your business anyhow. I’m allowed to have my lovers and my almost lovers. And if you truly thought Naemon was proposing to me, I don’t know why you’d want to fucking interrupt it!”
Azriel flinched at the coldness in your voice, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it, Az?” You exclaimed, clearly irritated now, “Gods, you never just say what you mean.”
Azriel tried again, grasping at straws. “I would never judge you for your choices, even if you said yes to him or-I just-fuck.” 
On any other day you’d be laughing. Azriel was a male of few words, but the words he did say were always perfect and calculated. Nothing about this was calculated or thought out.
“I… you’re my best friend, Y/n. And I haven’t seen you in over a year. I just…” He cringed. Hard. Cauldron boil him. He was doing this terribly, “I was scared.” He finally admitted, and rather pathetically.
“Scared?” You dropped your arms. That wasn’t the answer you’d been expecting, “Scared of what? You’re hardly ever afraid of anything.”
He shrank away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, “That you’d leave me-us. That you’d find a reason to stay here instead of returning to Velaris. And when I saw you dancing with him tonight - the way he was looking at you and the way you were looking at him - I thought… I thought Naemon would be that reason.” 
Now you were confused and even more irate than before.
You stalked up to him, jabbing his chest with an accusatory finger, “You were the one who encouraged me to do this. You were the one constantly writing to me about the importance of making friends and “putting myself out there.” You were the one who practically shoved me out the door when I left-”
“Because I thought you wanted this!” 
“I did! I-I do!” 
“Then what was I supposed to do, Y/n?!” He cried out. His shadows, which had been held back so tightly on a leash throughout the night, exploded outward, coating the bright colors of your bedspread and the rugs and the curtains in inky black. They swirled there, as agitated and timid as their master. 
“What was I supposed to do?” He whispered again. He sounded tired. Defeated. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold you back from what you wanted. From the happiness and opportunities you deserve.”
“You could’ve at least said something! You could’ve at least told me that you were upset with me leaving. That you were going to miss me and that you-you-” 
That you love me and that you wanted me to stay. You shoved the thought out of your mind, slamming the door and turning the lock. Useless, lovestruck pipedreams would do you no good now. 
“Instead you just pushed me out the door and it’s been nothing but empty letters from you since.” 
“They weren’t empty.” Azriel said weakly. He’d never been a man of words or poetry, but in that moment he desperately wished he was. “And I did miss you. Y/n, I missed you so much some days it felt like I couldn’t breathe.” 
You deflated, your anger slowly ebbing away like the ocean during low tide. Sometimes you forgot that beneath all those hard-won layers of shadow and muscle, Azriel was still that little boy that had been abandoned in a cellar and taught to believe he was worthless. A waste of time and a waste of space. Nothing more than an inconvenient bastard. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were all doing fine. That I’d come back and it would be like nothing had ever changed. I would’ve-I would’ve made time to visit. Or-or come back sooner.”
Azriel chuckled without humour. He had not been “doing fine” without you. He hadn’t been “doing fine” since the moment you’d stepped across the doorway and winnowed out of Velaris.
“You make it sound like I was going away forever.” You added softly.
“It felt like it.” Azriel admitted quietly, “I always worried there was a chance you’d decide you liked things better in Dawn. That you liked the people better. So when I saw you with Naemon I just…” His voice trailed off and he slowly backed up to your bed, sinking down into the pillowy comforter. Even the beds seemed softer and kinder here. Softer and kinder than him.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 
He felt the bed dip beside him, your knee pressing against his in a burst of warmth. The blue tipped pleats of your dress slowly waved with his shadows as they once again curled around your feet, inching up your dress and closer and closer to your hands. Now that he was looking down he noticed the shoes you were wearing - cobalt blue with matching velvet ribbons tied up your calf. Same as your dress. Same as the ribbon in your hair.
“I wanted to believe you wore those colors for me tonight.” He said quietly, aching for your touch. Your hands were so close to his he could almost imagine that-
You covered his hands with your own, smoothing the rough skin with gentle caresses, “I did.”
It had seemed like such a stupidly hopeful choice at the time - some not-so-subtle declaration of love for all the months you’d spent apart - but when the seamstress had laid out all the dresses, you’d taken one look at the cobalt blue accents and the shoes and snatched them up in a heartbeat. 
Azriel’s eyes were wider, more open, than the moon, shimmering with disbelief and hope, “You did?” He whispered.
“I did. They reminded me of you.” You stopped looking him in the eyes. It felt like too much. Too much emotion. Too much feeling. “I missed you too, you know.” 
Azriel stayed quiet for a long while, sorting out the myriad of feelings roiling in his chest and trying to latch onto a single coherent thought. Finally he murmured, “I guess we could both work on saying things outright.” 
You laughed softly, shaking your head and wiping at the corners of your eyes, “Yes. I guess we could.” 
“We could start now.” Azriel offered hesitantly. His heart hammered away in his chest like a blacksmith at his anvil until he was sure his sternum would crack. 
You raised your eyebrows. Curious.
“The next five minutes. We say everything honestly. No holding back.” 
“I don’t know, Az. I-”
“Please.” He begged, holding onto your hands a little tighter. His shadows had traveled all the way up to your waist now, ghosting over flesh that he didn’t dare touch. He didn’t want to lose you. He’d thought he could handle being apart from you physically - that it would be no different from the decades he’d spent quietly loving you from right by your side - but he’d been horribly wrong. And he didn’t want to risk another, better male than Naemon coming to whisk you away before he had the chance to do things properly. To do things honestly.
His hands were shaking now, gripping your hands like you were the anchor to his ship trapped in raging waters, “I’ll start.” 
“Ok.” You whispered, leaning a little closer.
Azriel swallowed and tried to stop the trembling in his hands and in his voice. In this he managed quite well, falling into a rigid, flat silence.
“I love you. I’ve loved you for years now, actually.” He dared to look at you. Your lips were parted in shock and he wished he could taste them, “Is that…is that ok?” 
“Is that ok?” You repeated dumbly. “Is that ok?” You repeated a little louder, “Are you serious, Azriel?”
“Y-Yes?” He was trembling again, face open and terrified. He was offering you up his heart on a platter and praying to the Mother you wouldn’t crush it beneath those velvet blue shoes. Even if you did, he would find some solace in knowing you were the one to destroy him. He loved you so dearly that it was only within your right to do so. 
Your lips broke in a stuttered smile, opening and closing like you didn’t quite know what to do. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. I’d hoped you might feel that way but I… I was never sure. I…” You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the curve of his jaw and his cheekbones with your fingertips, “I love you too, Azriel. I love you so much.” Your voice cracked, silver gathering in your eyes no matter how fiercely you tried to blink them away, “Gods, Az, you don’t even know.” 
He gripped you close enough enough to bruise, arms locked around your waist and hands laid flat on your back. It was a sweet pain that grew even sweeter when you kissed him, searching for breath like you’d find it in his lungs. Azriel was just as desperate, ravenous even as he tugged at your clothes and flipped you flat on the bed. He wanted your lips again. You tasted like strawberries and cream, and he was starving. 
He climbed on top, slotting himself between your legs as you yanked him close.
“Your hair,” You muttered, “It’s too neat.” The next minute was all teeth from Azriel as you mussed up his hair and he grinned wildly against your lips.
“Five-” He groaned, sinking further into you when you wrapped your legs around his waist, “Five minutes aren’t-” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at your flushed face as you gasped for breath and finally untangled your hands from his hair, “Five minutes aren’t up yet.” 
“You’ve been keeping track?” You dropped your head back on the bed with a disgruntled hmph. Had he been counting the whole time he’d been kissing you?
He kissed your chest, then the sensitive skin of your neck. But there wasn’t any expectation in the brush of his lips, just quiet, honest love. 
You raised your head, finding that Azriel once again looked scared. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He said seriously. “Before… before anything else.” 
You drew yourself onto your elbows, craning your neck for one more kiss, “You can tell me, Az. You can tell me anything.” 
The bond sang in his chest like a songbird in a cage. It wanted to be released. To be acknowledged in words if it couldn’t be acknowledged through feeling at this moment. Because Azriel knew you didn’t feel it yet. You didn’t feel the burning he felt in his chest that made it hard to breathe when you weren’t around. 
What if she doesn’t want this? What if she doesn’t want me? Azriel swallowed thickly, tears springing into his eyes. He wanted so desperately to be worthy of you - to be the kind and gentle lover and mate that you deserved. He’d been born crooked even before he’d been tossed into that cellar, before his half-brothers had set his hands on fire. But… but he was yours completely. He’d offer whatever meager, broken shards of himself that he could in hopes it might be enough. 
“Az,” You whispered his name lovingly and slid a wayward curl behind his ear so gently he thought he might break apart into a million pieces, “Tell me. Please. Tell me.” 
“You’re my mate.” He confessed. 
The words hung in the air, unaccepted, unrejected, and you went preternaturally still. 
He had no feathers to pluck out and present to you. But he had his shadows. You tipped your head curiously to the side when Azriel knelt on the ground, holding your hand in his. 
“I don’t have any pure white feathers. I don’t even have a ring on me right now-”
“Az, you don’t need to-” You stilled when a shadow flickered down Azriel’s wrist onto yours. It was a small, delicate thing. Willful too. You could tell by the way it traveled confidently down your ring finger, curling there tastefully like a castle spire reaching towards the sky.
It hovered over your skin like mist hanging over wetlands. A proposal in and of itself.
“Yes.” You said before Azriel could open his mouth again. He hesitated, afraid to believe he’d heard you correctly, “Yes.” 
“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” He teased weakly. 
But this time you knew exactly what he meant, even if he didn’t say it out loud. 
The bond burst to life in your chest as the shadow sank into your skin, settling there like a tattoo. Like a promise. 
Azriel stumbled, actually stumbled, clenching at his chest at the wildness growing within him. He chased after you, hurtling down the bond and finding you wide open on the other side. You were anxious and surprised and so so so happy. So happy you felt like you might just die from it, and Azriel felt it all. 
Hello, Y/n. He called out.
Hello, Azriel. You responded. My mate. 
Azriel groaned, slamming his lips and his body against yours. You held steady as you always did, letting him press against you as if you could keep him there forever.
I am yours and you are mine. You gripped his hair again, feeling the silky strands caress your skin. With one smooth motion he pulled out the ribbon and started to undo the buttons of your dress.
Promise?
You grinned. Promise.
___________
Author's note:
Nothing like a declaration of love after a year spent apart to make my heart swoon.
But honestly I would have fallen in love with Naemon... sorry Az...
2K notes · View notes
thevoidstaredback · 6 months
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
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akunya · 7 days
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“a humans touch.”
pairings: malleus draconia x m!reader
summary: you’re curious about malleus’s horns, so he lets you touch them.
tw: frottage (?), dubious consent, touching, implied age diff., size diff, etc. sfw.
notes: some food after a year.. thank you so much for all of the messages you’ve left me in the meantime. i can’t express how happy they’ve made me.
this is sfw, but i promise next fic will be filthy. enjoy!
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“can i.. touch them?”
malleus’s head cocks to the side a little, a bit puzzled over your request. you and him were just lounging around the diasomnia dorm until you spoke up, breaking him out of his reading session.
“touch.. what exactly?” the fae questioned as he watched you moved closer to him, until you were staring at the top of his head. “oh, my horns? is that what you want to touch, child of man?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, closing his book and putting it on the coffee table. you nodded silently. sometimes, you were too adorable (in his eyes) for your own good.
“sorry if it’s a weird thing to ask! they just look so.. intriguing?” your voice trailed, trying to find the right words to describe his horns without offending the prince. “we don’t have many fae or dragons where im from.” malleus smiled fondly. he nodded before leaning down. he was much taller than you, with your little form barely reaching his torso — and he adored it that way. it added onto your undeniable cuteness.
“i don’t mind. i trust that you’ll be gentle with them. touch as much as you like, y/n.” his deep voice made you feel warm, nodding as you sat up straight, a tad guilty that he was straining his neck to appease you.
and so, you started your little examination. your fingers lightly grazed upon the tips of his horns, slowly rubbing up and down. malleus gulped. his brow furrowed for a split second. not wanting to comment on your actions, his fangs digging into his lips to keep quiet. his horns weren’t extremely sensitive, but they did have feeling, and every time you touched — it sent a shiver down his spine.
however, you were too engrossed in his strange anatomy to care. mumbling to yourself, you let your hands travel further down his horns, paying attention to the little crevices and ridges on the sides. “amazing. it almost feels like scales, in a way. it’s a bit.. leathery..?” nails delightfully scraped the faes horns.
he hummed happily, almost purring at the special attention from the boy he liked. other than you shuffling on the couch to reach higher, the room was quiet — except for malleus’s little huffs every now and then. your fingers kept traveling lower, until you gently caressed the skin where his horns had grown from. careful hands followed the scales, eyes widening at the plethora of little ridges that adorned his forehead. “these were here all along..?”
“are you surprised, little human?” the fae chuckled, looking up at you. his cat-like pupils bore into your own, bright green irises making him all the more enticing. it was amazing how other worldly he was: you couldn’t believe that this wasn’t a dream. even with hair slightly disheveled, malleus still carried a powerful yet dreamlike aura to him. the dorm leader looked as if he stepped right out of a fairy tale.
“a little. i wasnt expecting them to be on your forehead, too.” malleus felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile, and before you knew it, he pulled you onto his lap. you gasped in surprise, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and moving you as if you were a feather, until you straddled him properly and looked down towards him. your face was red as the older man chuckled.
“you got to touch wherever you wanted, so surely you’d let me do the same to you, hm?” he laughed at your stuttering, speechless as his hands went lower. claws dug into the thick of your thighs before traveling back up, a careful index finger lightly traced around your crotch. he was teasing you on purpose. malleus would give you everything, but that didn’t mean he disliked being mischevious every once in a while, especially when your reactions were priceless.
“m-malleus—“ you tried to speak up, eyes scrunching shut when sharp nails circled around your crotch again. you were a toy in his hands, and that idea seemed to only spur you on even more. shaky breaths left your lips as he continued to rake and touch your frail frame.
soft lips grazed the shell of your ear before parting to speak. “sshhh, little human. you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you? some diasomnia students might still be around..” malleus chuckled, leaving a small kiss before nuzzling into your neck.
his body hunched over yours, as if he was caging you in his arms as much as he could. a hefty sigh made the fae relax, you scent letting him unwind.
on the contrary, the close proximity only made you feel even more antsy. never have you been this close to the dorm leader. what started as innocent curiosity led to something much more interesting, with you having no choice but to stay still and let him explore your own human body.
“i don’t want to waste any time, so behave, okay? let me really see how a human reacts to touch.”
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surielstea · 2 months
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Worried Mates
1k celebration request by @mira-says
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Pairing: Poly!Bat Boys x Valkyrie!Reader
Summary: Reader gets badly injured and her three mates fuss over her.
Warnings: Light gore | canon-typical violence | injury | hurt/comfort | fluff | angst | happy ending
A.Note: This takes place during the war between humans and fae 500 years before the events of ACoTaR, Reader is a Valkyrie Commander.
2.1k words
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"Gods—" I grunt, gripping my aching side. The war between mortals and fae was raging, and it seemed that it wouldn't be stopping any time soon.
When my half-sister, Miryam, had told me that she planned on fleeing with Prince Drakon once the war was over I thought she must've been insane. I only wanted joy for my sister of course, but it was foolish of her to think the two of them could have their happy ending after helping initiate this war.
But now, bleeding out and surrounded by enemies I was starting to understand the appeal of leaving everyone behind and escaping with my mates. I was at death's doorstep, too tired to even lift my sword, and I wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of the males I loved most.
I watched all my companions die off, my friends, Valkyrie's far better than me dying before me. It wasn't right.
I was the commander of the Valkyrie units, and now they're gone. Commander of no one because I failed them all by leading them into a war I knew we couldn't win.
An armed fae charged towards me, his sword held high as he screamed like a madman.
I tightened my grip on my shield and used his momentum against him, his sword clanging hard to the Illyrian steel of my shield as I pushed it back into him. He tumbled to the ground under the weight of it and with the sharp point of my shield I thrusted it straight into his chest. He fell limp.
A battle cry sounded from behind me and I groaned, every inch of my body protesting any further movement. I unsheathed my heavy sword while turning around to face a hulking male, lifting it up in challenge.
He swings first, his scarlet-covered blade meeting mine. He was much stronger than me, bigger too but he was slow. He pushed hard and my aching arms strained under the pressure. I steadied my breathing and pushed his blade away from me. He came back swinging with twice the force, going right for my head. I bent back, my spine screaming at me as his blade swung just above my nose, the sharpness of it slicing into a rogue hair that had strayed from its braid.
With the remaining energy I honed, I thrust my sword into the male's chest. He yelped, his sword clattering to the ground, and with one last attempt to gut me, he swung to grab me with his free hand. I screamed as I felt a searing pain in my side. I looked down to find a large knife embedded into my torso. When I looked back to the male he twisted the knife and I felt as if my entire body was set aflame. I clenched my teeth together as I plunged my sword into his chest again, and when I pulled it out he was already in the dirt, receiving the same fate as his comrades.
My knees buckled as I looked at my side again, blood pooling at my feet as it ran down my leg.
I dug my sword in the ground, using it for support so I could at least stay standing. My entire left side felt paralyzed as I continued to lose that precious scarlet liquid.
I squeezed my eyes shut before forcing them open, my vision bleary as I grew increasingly dizzy.
In the distance, I saw another armed soldier charging at me. For a moment I debated letting him have my life, it was soon nearing a close anyway.
But I hadn’t trained for years to be cut down by a measly foot soldier, hadn’t clawed and scraped my way through ranks to die by a stranger's hand. I curse, deciding that I wouldn't go out in forfeit, I would die fighting or I would not die at all. With only my right arm I lifted my sword up toward the sky, ready to strike.
But just as he was about to reach me a gleam of red flashed and the soldier's head went flying in the opposite direction of his body. Directly in front of me stood a male, glowing in red, my vision began to darken at the corners but I could recognize those wings anywhere. "Oh thank the gods," I sighed in pure relief, falling to my knees as Cassian ran forward to catch me before my head could hit the hard ground. He spotted the gushing wound in my side immediately, then looked at my dilated pupils.
“Hey, sweetheart,” He rasped, his voice raw from shouting commands at soldiers over the fields. “Cass,” I hum his name, the familiarity of it bringing me a warm feeling. I was glad to see he was unharmed. “Lean on me,” He says while gently brushing my stubborn hairs away from my sweat, and most likely blood, lined forehead.
"I'm going to get you out of here," Was all I managed to hear from him before darkness consumed me and my vision blackened entirely.
When I cracked my eyes open I immediately winced at the harsh light of the room I was being kept in. The sound of frustrated voices registered first, then the smell of lavender, and the softness of the pillow behind my head, and then finally my vision came. I spotted Rhysand and Cassian first, quietly bickering over something I couldn’t find in myself to care for. They were both changed from their armor, cleansed from the blood and dirt of the war. Even though they both looked clean and seemed how they always did I could tell something was off. Their wings were terse and the bags beneath their eyes were prominent.
It took a lot to mar the beauty of a Fae male, especially the two of them, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen them more distressed.
They continued their hushed argument, oblivious to the fact that I had woken up so I cast my eyes elsewhere, toward the third male in the room who had his head tilted downward, his scarred hands in his lap. He stared at those scars, his shaky hands making it seem like he’d done something wretched, so horrid he somehow didn’t think it probable that it was done with his own hands.
My brows creased, all three of them were in sorrow, and whether it was because I was bedridden or it was simply the after-effects of the war I was unsure.
“Good morning,” Is all I can think to say. It was casual, a little hoarse, but simple.
The room fell silent and all three heads snapped towards me. Their lips all formed tight straight lines as they bored their eyes into me.
I couldn’t tell if it was shock or relief, perhaps both.
A large smile cracks across my lips. “Were you guys worried about me?” I suggest, raising my brows accusingly.
“Gods,” A large figure crashes into me and I groan. Cassian clings to me tightly, hugging me into his warm chest. “Of course, we were worried,” He whispers, as if afraid he’d break this moment by speaking any louder.
“You’re crushing her, Cass,” Rhys says from behind him and I chuckle, looking at the violet-eyed male and giving him a gentle smirk which he matched. I pulled away from Cassian’s embrace first and he reluctantly let go of me.
“I’m sorry love,” Azriel sighed, his hand coming to intertwine with my fingers. “Sorry for what Az?” My brows crease.
“My shadows should’ve been with you, I could’ve stopped that soldier from hurting you—” The Illyrian starts but Cassian cuts him off.
“No Az it’s my fault, I should have been there sooner. I should have taken that dagger not her—” He tried but this time it was Rhys to cut him off.
“Both of you stop being ridiculous, I was the one that allowed her to fight, it was my mistake from the beginning,” The High Lord asserts, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My gods, do you three ever quit taking the blame for everything?” I looked pointedly at Rhys when I spoke. “I would’ve commanded the Valkyries to fight alongside you whether it was cleared or not,” I confess and Rhys subtly frowns at that, the unspoken question of me being the last Valkyrie was now answered with that expression. A wave of shame passed over me, but I pushed it aside for now, deciding to spend this moment with my three very paranoid, but very alive mates.
“I’m fine,” I give Azriel’s hand a squeeze.
“Madja said if the blade went even a fraction deeper it would’ve been fatal,” The blue siphoned male argued, and my brows bunch.
“But it didn’t,” I state.
“But it could have,” He snarled and I had never seen him so angry, so scared.
My eyes softened and I let a soft smile grace my features. “Az,” I whispered, attempting to bring him comfort to remind him I was alive and healthy.
Azriel was the first of the three that I bonded with, we’ve always had a different connection because of it. I’ll love all of them equally no matter what, but it left Azriel to be more protective of me than the other two.
He stands suddenly, our hands still tangled. “You nearly died, you nearly abandoned us for a place where we aren’t allowed to join you,” He snapped and my heart ached at the pained look on his face. I would’ve been furious too if it were him on the brink of death, I would’ve found a way to steal him back from death itself if that treacherous event were to come.
“Azriel,” Cassian snapped at the male but I held a hand up, waving him off.
I sat up, my side screamed at me in protest but I ignored it. I wore my softest white nightgown, only realizing it once I stood from the bed, slightly unsteady but upright nonetheless. I narrow my gaze at Azriel.
“I am here, I am alive,” I say. “A little scratched up but I don’t think Rhys will let me out in the field anytime soon,” I smile and Rhys shifts behind me.
“You heard that right,” The High Lord grumbled under his breath and I tossed him a glance over my shoulder.
I look back to Azriel, reaching for his other hand and holding them both. “See? I’m alright, I promise,” I look up at him lovingly and his shoulders dip in relief.
“Okay,” He nods, silently cursing himself for acting out so brashly. “You just, had me worried is all,” He excuses and I smile softly, letting go of one of his hands in favor of cupping his jaw.
“I know honey, I know,” I murmur before lifting up and placing a reassuring kiss on his lips, he returns it by bringing his free hand to my hip, pulling me closer.
“Is it just me or do you feel excluded too?” Cassian loudly whispered to Rhysand and I giggled against Azriel’s lips, pulling away and turning my head to cast a playful glare at the two piqued males, clearly attention-deprived.
“Then come over here already,” I give them an inviting smirk and they quickly scramble around the bed to reach me and it takes everything in me not to giggle at how desperate they were to be in my clutches yet again.
“One for you,” I placed my hand on Rhys’ jaw and gave him a soft peck, he barely had time to reciprocate it until I was rearing back. “And,” I grabbed Cass by his shirt. “One for you,” I gave him the same kiss.
“You taste like a coma,” The male murmured, smacking his lips and I rolled my eyes.
“You each got one, are you three satisfied now?” I arch a brow.
“Satisfied? Nowhere near it darling,” Rhys grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up and over his shoulder.
“Wait! I’m still not fully healed yet!” I yelped, banging my fists on his back playfully.
“We’ll be gentle,” Cassian reassured with a gleeful smile. I looked at Azriel but he only smirked.
“No promises,” He shrugged and I groaned, letting my body go limp as Rhys carried me towards the High Lord's chambers.
“If you guys open my stitches I’ll give all of you stitches,” I threatened but none of them seemed to care, and to be honest nothing sounded better than the idea of being cradled by three tan, very large, Illyrians after such a long war.
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starkeysprincess · 2 months
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rafe is so nasty getting off on reader being scared all i can think of is him taking her to one of those haunted cornfield attractions for halloween and when they get separated he finds her curled up on the ground crying and her pretty little face drenched with tears when she runs into his arms gets him so hard he practically drags her the rest of the way so he can fuck her in the truck 🙈
ngl, im high rn so I apologize if this is bad but nonnie, i literally love you for this 🙏🏽
warnings: unprotected sex, fear kink, breath play
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rafe knew exactly what he was doing, he’s seen the way you’d cower and hide your face into his shoulder whenever the two of you watched a horror movie, the look of fear on your face was a sight for sore eye so it was no surprise that’d he’d drag you to the haunted cornfield attraction on halloween night.
“rafe, I don’t know about this…” you hesitate as your boyfriend pulls you towards the line. “c’mon, bunny, ‘s fine, there’s nothin’ to be scared of” he chuckles.
once the two of you were in the maze, rafe had warned you to stay close to him to avoid getting separated, which, you didn’t listen because when he turned back around, you were gone.
he turned his head in all directions, trying to look for you as he retraced his steps. when he finally found you, there you were, curled up on the ground, your knees to your chest and face buried in your arms.
“bunny…” he calls out, making you lift your head up and you get up, running straight into his arms. when you pull your face away from his chest, his breath hitches in his throat and he can feel his cock starting to stiffen in his pants when he sees your pretty little face drenched with tears, mascara smudged under your eyes.
“fuck…” he groans, roughly grabbing your wrist, practically dragging you along the way as he made his way through the maze. he was determined to have his way with you and just when he was about to give up and ready to risk fucking you right then and there in the maze, he found the way out.
he’s dragging you to his truck, fumbling with the keys before unlocking it and opening the back door, pushing you inside. you don’t get a chance to react because you’re being shoved face down against the leather seats, gasping when he slips himself inside your warm, wet hole.
he’s plundering into you, too busy focused on his own pleasure as you’re crying out at his rough and hard thrusts. his hand is holding your head down, tears are welling in your eyes at the immense pleasure you’re feeling.
“yeah, keep crying f’me, bunny. you look so fuckin’ pretty when you cry” he groans, hand intertwining with your hair, tugging your harshly to pull your head up.
you panic in fear as you struggle to breathe when he’s clamping his hand tightly around your mouth and nose, cutting off your oxygen, your tears now streaming down your face.
“be a good girl and fuckin’ take it” he grunts, your head starting to feel dizzy. your walls flutter around him, gripping onto his cock like a vice and he’s moaning out as he comes, his hand dropping from your your mouth and nose, making you gasp for air.
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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A Ballad of Storm and Shadow
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Azriel x F!Reader
Part Two
Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.
Warnings - swearing, fluff, a little angst as always, mentions of blood, brother sister fluff 🥺
Part One
This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character
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There was only one singular thing that Rhys wanted more than to be able to spend a moment alone with his long-lost sister, telling tales and swapping stories of what the last 500 years had held for them, and that was to see Tamlin cower at her perfectly painted feet.
Though, Rhys was sure, like the other High Lords, that Tamlin would not be making an appearance, not after what Feyre had done to his court.
Aelin leaned to the side, her eyes not once moving from the reflective pool in the centre of the chamber as she whispered to y/n, causing the raven haired female to grin in response. It was clear that the two other-worldly women were putting the High Lords of Prythian on edge, if not for their damning beauty then because of the suffocating power that waltzed around them, dancing in a phantom wind and casting a faint shimmer over their forms.
Azriel didn't blame either of them for wrapping a shield around themselves, though, he did get the feeling that it wasn't they who had decided it, it seemed to be Rowan's doing. The fae prince's gaze sauntered across the room, not wanting to indulge in the idle chatter of lesser-than beings, he was assessing and probably imagining all the ways in which he could cut them down without even blinking.
The only sounds that filled the room were polite comments and the gossip from Vivane and Mor, catching up after 50 years apart. All Rhys wanted to do was lean over and ask his sister a million and one questions about her life, where she had been and what the other world was like, but, upon gazing upon her monotonous features, he decided against that impulse.
Instead, the High Lord of Night peered across the pool to find Eris Vanserra in complete awe of her, and if she had noticed his lingering gaze then she did well to not let onto it. Y/N had most likely already known that if she was raised in Prythian then it would have been him who would have been given her hand, their father had always wanted a way into the Autumn Court. Rhys was glad that she looked so alike to him, but he couldn't help but notice a certain darkness within her eyes, like a chilled breeze in the midst of winter, unwavering and fatal.
He had so many questions, so many things he needed to know.
A gentle loop of wind coursed through the open arches from the east, sifting through y/n's hair and cascading her scent straight into Azriel's lungs, so blissful that even his shadows swarmed around the speckles of air for a taste. He had been trying to pinpoint the individual aspects of her scent for the last ten minutes, desperate to etch it to memory, but that last fell sweep confirmed it.
Y/N smelt like the calm before the storm, when the earth hazed by swelter was damp and eagerly awaiting the roaring from the skies during its last moments of peace; there was a slight ashen note to it, like lightening kissed trees that were crackling after being torn apart by the storms fury, and then all of that was combined with with the heavenly aroma of fresh petrichor from newly bathed mountain springs.
He tried to tell himself that he was following each of her movements out of the desire to protect his home from a cunningly beautiful stranger, but he was lying to himself, so much so that his shadows swatted against his back sternly at the thought of her being anything remotely evil. Azriel couldn't take his eyes off of her, he noted every tick of her jaw when Beron would open his mouth and every furrow of her brow when someone would say something that intrigued her, and then there was a familiar softness that consumed her violet gaze whenever Rhys would taunt and prod those around him. Her eyes were laced with longing and pride, like she was only then realising everything she had missed from the moment she had been sent away.
Azriel was too keen not to notice the scar peeking from the bodice of her dress, though her hair did an exquisite job of hiding it, Azriel was placed in the perfect position to be able to count every scaled ridge. It extended from the tip of her pointed ear and slithered down her neck and shoulder before disappearing beneath the fabric of her dress, leaving Azriel to wonder two things, where the scar ended and what had happened to cause it. It was clear that they all had stories to tell, and Azriel was eager to know every snippet of hers.
"Forgive me for prying," Helion drawled, leaning forward in his seat and his lethally poised orbs staring directly at y/n, they trailed down her figure, from the ornate crust of jewels encapsulated around her head to the burgundy pumps on her feet, "But what exactly are you?"
The attention of the room shifted, the one thought on their minds having being thrust out into the open, and they all waited eagerly for her response. Y/N sighed and simply glanced to her right with a soft nod, bestowing a silent permission to her companion, Aelin, who grinned, knowing the floor was open for her, "Does the crown not do it for you? She's a queen."
"A queen?" Beron scoffed with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, his brown eyes wicked and untamed, he sneered at the jewels curling above her ears and asked, "Did it fall onto your head? How does a little girl like you get to call herself a queen?"
Rowan's jaw clenched, his top lip curling into a snarl, and he went to say something, to stand up for one of his two queens, but Aelin halted him with a firm hand on his forearm, "I killed my mother, not for the crown, but because-"
"She was an evil bitch?"
Y/N pointed to Aelin with her gaze stuck on Beron, unwavering, lethal, "That." Placing both hands flat against the arms of her chair, y/n rose from the seat, the sky darkening overhead and a violent gust soaring through the chamber, "I have not left my people to aid a continent that finds it acceptable to treat the only thing standing between them and certain death this way. I am over 500 years old, I'm not a little girl. I destroyed my mother and then eviscerated her body for extra measure, and if you think that I won't do the same to you then I would suggest thinking again. I am the daughter of one of the most powerful High Lords in your history, and I am also the daughter of a Valg queen whether I wish it or not. Choose your next words very carefully."
The air had grown heavy, swelteringly so, and the skies continued to darken with splotches of demonic grey; electricity surged through the space, causing the atoms to vibrate with tension. A faint rumble coursed in the distance, and sparks of blue lit up the skies which had once been a backdrop of serenity, even the ocean below could be heard crashing against the cliffside.
Despite his thunderous heartbeat, Beron couldn't allow his mask to shiver in response, no matter how much sweat had built up on his brow or cold had seeped into his bones. Before he could open his mouth and spurt another insult, two thick threads of lightening crashed through the dome of the chamber, landing on either side of him with a crack as they split open the stone under his feet. Thunder chuckled overhead, always thrilled to witness one of her spectacles.
Then, the darkness vanished, giving way to lazy beams of sun as she began her descent below the horizon, the air lightened and birdsong drifted through the room from the open arches. Still standing, y/n arched a brow and adorned a knowing smirk, knowing that a single effortless flash of her abilities had struck fear into every soul surrounding the reflective pool, "Next time, I'll let them devour you. My lightening enjoys the taste of snivelling old cunts."
I like her. Feyre's voice all but purred into Rhys' mind, her face was taut from attempting to hide her grin but it glowered in her eyes.
Hm. I don't think you're the only one. Rhys cocked his head to the side, causing Feyre to crane her neck to see Azriel staring down at her in total awe, though he wasn't even trying to conceal his smile, he let it shine for all to see.
Aelin looked practically giddy by the show, waiting for y/n to sit at her side once more before continuing on as if nothing had happened, "Carrying on," Aelin folded her hands over her stomach and leaned back, propping one of her legs up on the arm of her seat, "Y/N is the Queen of the Fae of Erilea," Aelin glanced to y/n with a level of adoration, "She gave up everything to aid us, there is no one I would rather rule beside than her," Rowan cleared his throat at the words, sending Aelin a deadpan and stern glare, "Oh, and birdboy over here."
"What a touching sentiment," the white haired warrior drawled, his eyes were laced with humour as he rolled them, his body language relaxing tenfold compared to when he had been assessing the males in the room earlier. Apparently he had deduced that none of them were a threat to him and his queens, not after y/n's recent display. "And," he looked to Beron whose orbs were trained on the steaming black cracks etched into the stone floor, "If you thought that was bad, then you should count yourself lucky that Aedion and Lorcan weren't here. Your head would be detached from your shoulders for that level of disrespect."
Aedion and Lorcan.
Rhys made a mental note to ask about them later, and why saying their names aloud made Rowan's smirk turn positively feline.
"Don't forget about Manon," Aelin sang, and Rowan chuckled darkly at the thought, making Azriel think that he never wanted to meet whoever Manon was.
Y/N dragged her fingers through the lengths of her hair and sniffed the air lightly, her ears pricking as though they could hear something approaching from the distance, and just as the doors swung open did her eyes dart to meet them.
Eyes connecting with those of the intruder, Y/N shivered at the tremors of magic that coursed through the room from the High Lords and their entourages throwing their shields up, and she noticed keenly how the shield around the Night Court in particular became reinforced with rage, even if Rhys' face didn't show it.
The male before her eyes was not considered an ally.
Dressed in a green tunic and smiling so broadly that she could see each of his gleaming white teeth, the male sauntered forward into the stilled room with eyes dancing between Rhys and Y/N, picking apart every similarity between them until the realisation swarmed him.
Thesan rose to his feet slowly, his Peregryns ready to put him down if needed, but he really hoped that it wouldn't come to that, "We were not expecting you, Tamlin," he extended a hand to his quivering aids and ordered, "Please bring the High Lord a chair."
Despite his flickering eyes and subdued smile, Tamlin mainly kept his gaze on Feyre, staring directly into her soul, and by the looks of him y/n could tell that he was lethal in his own right. Feyre shuffled under his gaze, a gaze that sought to control and demand her, and y/n would be damned if she allowed such a thing.
"I have to admit that I am surprised you came, Tamlin," Beron drawled, somewhat recovered from the display of anger directed at him only moments before, "Rumour suggests that your allegiance lies elsewhere these days."
Still, Tamlin's gaze did not leave Feyre, it only moved downward to the band circled on her finger and then trailed up to the tattoo flowing and ebbing against her hand, finally ending on the crown lay atop her head. He exhaled through his nose and waited for the aids to place his seat between Beron's sons and Helion's clan; he had come with no generals, no family, no friends, he was completely alone.
The male didn't utter a single word as he sat, the air was tight, but he moved his gaze at long last and rested it upon y/n, narrowing his green eyes at her and tilting his head slightly as if he was trying to place her in his mind. Helion waved his hand, cutting through the ripe tension, "Let's get on with it then."
It made Rhys feel uneasy, the way Tamlin was looking at his sister and the way in which she was staring back, almost taunting him with her orbs of violent delight. He wanted to reach into her mind and tell her to stop, but her walls were strong, almost impenetrable.
Thesan cleared his throat, eager to move the meeting along so that the time spend with Tamlin was as little as possible. No one looked toward the High Lord of Dawn, not even Tamlin as he moved his eye back to Rhys and Feyre, eyes simmering with a hatred that y/n had only ever seen within her mother. He opened his mouth, and Feyre visibly braced herself, "It seems as though congratulations are in order."
Silence.
Only Rhys held his stare, and deep down, y/n could feel his wrath bubbling inside of him like a hot spring, he looked to Thesan and said, "We can talk of this matter later."
"Don't stop on my account."
Rhys' grip tightened around Feyre's knee, "I'm not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies." His gaze floated to his sister who was still staring down Tamlin, hands coiled around the arms of her chair and eyes blazing with a fury he didn't know she too possessed.
"No," Tamlin matched Rhys' tone with a certain level of ease, "You're just in the business of fucking them."
The room stilled with rage, the entire entourage of the Night Court seethed in silence, waiting for a single nod from their High Lord to allow them to tear this nothing-man into pieces.
A single claw slid from his knuckles, and the world became muffled to y/n, she wasn't focusing on anything or anyone other than him, the one making a clear threat toward her brother and his mate, her sister by law. There was nothing more sacred. Then she fell back into the room just as Tamlin smirked and angled his head at Rhys, "When you fuck her, have you ever noticed that little noise she makes right before she climaxes?"
Heat stained Feyre's cheeks at the question, one that sought to discount everything that she was. Beron beamed, and Eris monitored the situation carefully from his seat, but then-
Silence. A gentle kiss of breeze.
Azriel glanced to his right, expecting to see y/n sat there with hate-filled eyes, but she was gone. A wet gurgling pulled his attention, he followed the noise and his eyes widened with delight.
Y/N had winnowed right into Tamlin's lap, her elongated talons piercing the skin of his neck causing blood to trail downward and pool at the collar of his tunic. Her other hand was furled into his hair, tugging his head back roughly so that his eyes met hers. One wrong move and Tamlin was done, and he knew it, the terror clear in his panicked eyes.
"If you ever speak of my sister-in-law, or any female, in such a manner again," she spoke lowly, dangerously, like poison on the tip of a blade, "It will be the last time you speak. Am I clear?" Her talons dug in deeper, the blood staining the rings littering her fingers.
Tamlin nodded shakily, gasping for air, and y/n only smirked down at him before retracting her talons from his flesh and bringing her index finger up to her lips, painting the bottom with his blood and humming, "For a male who acts so mighty, your fear tastes delicious," she ground down on his lap and called to her companions, "I think we have seen enough, don't you?"
Huffing, Rowan rose to his feet followed by Aelin, and the pair rounded the pool, Rowan extending a hand to y/n on the way and not even flinching when her bloodied fingers used him as leverage to slide from Tamlin's thighs. "Pathetic," he spat, bewildered at how their help had been wished for when they couldn't even play nice with one another. They all needed some lessons on how to get things done.
The trio sauntered from the chamber, but stopped in place when Thesan rose to his feet and called out to them, understanding that their aid meant the difference between peace or annihilation, "Please, wait." Thesan took three steps toward the trio whose combined power rippling around them was enough to make them see stars, "Stay the night at least, allow us to prove to you that we are worthy of saving."
Without looking back like Aelin and Rowan had, y/n nodded stiffly and only once before she rounded the doors, disappearing into the palace to presumably be shown to her rooms for the evening.
And, after a fair few snarky comments and displays of power, the meeting concluded, and Rhys was the first one rising from his seat and rounding the opened doors, following that mesmerising mountainous scent all the way through palace until he met a pair of tall golden doors that were littered with engravings of clouds and stars.
The rest of the Inner Circle eventually caught up with him, panting, and Cassian especially cursing the day Rhys was born for making him rush so much. Before Rhys could even raise a fist to the door, to reunite with his sister in the way that he had dreamed of for 500 years, it opened for him, and he found Aelin lazily draped against the frame looking to him with an arched brow; she peered behind him at the rest of his family and smiled, "Come on in."
Aelin stepped aside and ushered the group into the lavish suite they had been gifted, Thesan had really pulled out all of the wonders to make their stay as comfortable as possible. Soft white walls encircled the room that was adorned with pillars of solid gold and intricate artworks that littered the ceilings, wide open arches gave way to skies caressed with oncoming darkness, and in the centre was a seating area that rivalled that of the River House, long deep rooted chairs and frilled pillows, a square glass table at the centre and a fire raging on against the wall.
Upon one of the many seats, the Inner Circle found Rowan, feet propped up on the glass and head craned to meet them, "She'll be out in a minute," he drawled, "She's getting used to how large her bed is."
"I was washing the blood off my hands, thank you very much," y/n waltzed in from the open door on the left, wiping her cleared palms against the deep blue skirt of her dress, "You make me sound like such a princess."
Rowan rolled his eyes and dipped his head backward, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing, like her testing his patience was a common occurrence, "I would like to remind you that you were one. For 500 years. And I've known you for half of that time."
Y/N straightened and shrugged, "Fair enough," she turned on the balls of her bare feet to face Rhys and angled her head to the side, waving her gaze from his feet to his crown, "Who would have ever thought that we'd end up like this?"
A High Lord and Queen.
Rhys' smile widened as he beheld her, as they all did actually, the dark monster vanquished into a sea of light leaving behind something airy and fresh, "Certainly not me. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
Her smile faltered, "Me neither," she took a step toward him, "You gave me quite a scare you know, with that message."
Rhys matched her step, "That was never my intention."
"I know," she loosened her shoulders, "We'll help, even if the other High Lords of this land don't know the meaning of decorum."
Adoration flashed in his eyes, "Thank you, for what you did in there for Feyre. It was-"
"Terrifying?" Y/N moved like the wind, approaching her brother and taking his hands in hers, "I'll do anything to protect family."
And the Inner Circle knew that the protection she spoke of also extended to them, to the found family Rhys had formed in her void.
Snapping back into reality, Rhys placed a tender kiss on her brow and then angled his body to allow his family a chance to really see her, "Y/N," he began, tugging her to the jumbled line his circle had formed, "You know Feyre, my High Lady and mate, and this her sister, Nesta," the pair smiled warmly at one another whilst Nesta watched on, unphased, "This is Amren, my second in command. Cassian, the general of my armies. Mor, your cousin," Mor beamed at the sentiment, she was astounded to be related to someone so incredibly powerful and beautiful, "And then this is-"
"Azriel," the Shadowsinger interrupted, taking a single step forward causing y/n to crane her neck to get a better look at him.
Tendrils of darkness poked over his shoulders and combed through her hair, placing delicate kisses against her cheeks whilst she drank him in. Azriel was beautiful, dark hair and brooding hazel orbs, tattoos that crept up his arms and peered out of the collar of his second skin, a perfectly sloped nose and full lips, and a jaw so sharp she felt as though if she reached out to touch it then her fingers would return to her sliced.
"Azriel," the faint whisper sounded like a sonnet to his ears, and her offered a small smile, and she returned it instantly, unable to tear her eyes away from his until Cassian cut through the moment.
"Hate to break up whatever this is," he spoke with a wink in Azriel's direction who contained his growl to silence, "But we have to know everything about you. It's not every day that your best friend forgets to tell you that he has a sister in another world."
Shaking her head with a slight blush creeping up her cheeks, y/n motioned to the seating area, moving from Azriel and leaving his shadows pining after her to find a space in the centre of one of the four plush benches, "Sit. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Azriel moved first, wasting no time in taking the seat to her left whilst Rhys took the space to her right, the rest of the inner circle filled the other vacancies, Cassian puffing out his chest when he fell beside Rowan, the latter of who just grinned at the action, and Nesta partly cowering away from Aelin who watched her with a raised brow.
"How old are you?" Mor asked with a voice of wonder, she should have been angry at Rhys the moment she found out that she had another cousin that had been hidden from her, but for some reason she wasn't.
Y/N glanced to Rhys, "I'm 508, give or take a couple of years."
"So you were banished when you were a baby?"
"Yes. I hadn't even reached my second year, " y/n smiled sadly, "The Sidra flooded the city when I was born, our father said that an uncontrollable storm raged on for two weeks afterward. It was clear that I had a power that couldn't be tamed here, so I was sent to my mother in Doranelle, and she raised me."
"I remember that storm," Mor spoke faintly, brow furrowed as she recounted the night when the lightening cracked over the Court of Nightmares, causing the entire city to seek refuge indoors for four whole days and nights, "I didn't realise that it was you."
"Yes, well," y/n trailed, "It's not everyday a High Lord fucks a Valg queen but here we are."
Feyre suppressed a chuckle at y/n's tone, one that was light and attempting to find the silver lining of it all.
Rhys lay a sturdy hand on her knee and pulled her attention to him, unspoken words of an eon drifted between them, "If it's any consolation, I think that father sent you away because he knew that you were meant to be more than a High Lord's trophy wife. Males would wage wars to control a power like yours."
Feyre spoke next, asking, "What is it that you can do?"
Laying her palm open toward the ceiling, the room watched intently as blue sparks of lightening coursed over her fingertips and curled around her wrists, "I can mostly control the weather, storms to be exact, and water also answers my call."
"Tell them the truth, y/n," Aelin teased, "Stop trying to lessen your worth," she told y/n sternly, holding her gaze and sighing when she didn't elaborate, "She decimated an entire army with that power to save me, and the entire world. It nearly killed her. Erilea owes her a great debt. That's why she is queen, not because of her birth right, but because she sacrificed herself to make the world a better place."
"So, you control storms, huh?" Cassian cut through the pause, threading his fingers behind his head and leaning back into the seat, his face a mixture of impress and challenge.
Y/N raised a goblet to her lips, causing Azriel to wonder where exactly she had gotten it from, and drank slowly, "There's a reason that storms are named after women."
"Can you fight?" Mor asked, eager to know if she could train with her cousin, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible with the time they had together.
Rowan huffed and then frowned when Aelin dug her elbow into his ribs, but it didn't hurt him, not one bit. "You can thank me for that."
"He trained you?" Cassian asked with disbelief, his shoulders squaring and eyes narrowing at the white haired fae prince.
"I can show you if you'd like?" Y/N smirked through her lashes, eyes swimming with unmatched mischief as Cassian turned to her and grinned, thinking it would be an easy win for him. "If you're up to the challenge?"
"I would be honoured to show you how us Illyrians fight. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two." Cassian wriggled his brows at y/n but he failed to notice the glance she sent to Rowan who was rolling his eyes in her direction, and something told Azriel that Cassian would be eating those words once the morning came to pass.
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Author's Note
Part 2 is here my lovelies!
As always let me know what you think!
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part XI
Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 1.8k | Warnings: none
Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried
Previous part | Masterlist
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Azriel knocked on Feyre’s door, a soft come in coming through before entering. Feyre sat at her vanity, braiding her hair back as she made eye contact with him through the mirror.
“Hi, Az.”
He smiled before softly shutting the door behind himself.
“Have you given any more thought to what we talked about?”
He nodded, his ears twinged slightly pink. “I’ve never let Rhys do this.”
“I understand.”
“And if you see anything too.. private…” His words trailed off, but Feyre raised a hand up, closing her lips with a lock and throwing away a key.
“My lips are sealed.”
He sat in the chair in the corner, back straight as Feyre sat in the chair next to him, a bit uncertain of how to sit - usually she spent her time in this chair reading books, not her friend’s memories.
“I was too scared for Rhys to see. I didn’t.. she didn’t.. she’d hate having him see her like that.”
Feyre nodded, “I understand, she didn’t want to have him accidentally seeing some part of her he shouldn’t.”
“No,” Az laughed, sensing where Feyre’s thoughts had headed, “no, she uh- she wouldn’t want him to see the vulnerability.”
“Mmm,” Feyre hummed lightly as Azriel relaxed into the chair. “And why’s that?”
Talking about you so openly was still strange for Azriel - you had remained a guarded secret for so long, a topic he spoke more on in these past few weeks than the past century.
“Rhys is a fixer. She hated being upset around him because all he wants to do is fix things.”
Feyre rubbed Azriel’s arm, a comforting touch in such an unfamiliar space. A moment passed in silence before Feyer spoke again.
“Let your mind drift, Azriel.”
And so he did. 
His mind drifted across several centuries of time and space, centuries passing with no new memories of her. His thoughts flowed, bouncing from idea to idea, scrap of memory to scrap of memory. He felt Feyre’s presence in his mind, like she was hovering just over his shoulder through his thoughts. 
It started with snippets - her hands, her mouth, her touch. It got more clear as he thought more and more - her neck , her eyes, her smile. He could make out her voice, telling him to “please take care of yourself, babe.” He felt her hands roam his body, her touch curious and navigating as she slid down his body, kissing down the front of him.
The scene changed to a more detailed scenario, the two of you cuddled in the library, tucked away in a cozy corner in front of a fireplace. You yawned as you got further into your book, nestling into his side more as your eyelids grew heavier.
A loud sound occurred in the back of his head, the memory version of himself looking around the room for the source. You stayed relaxed in his arms, your concentration undeterred. 
Feyre’s urgent tone coming to him told him he wasn’t as safe as he thought. Azriel’s memories were murky, morphing into the surroundings of Feyre’s room, Feyre’s arms tightening around him as Rhys burst into their room. Chest heaving, he moved toward the pair, pointing at Azriel.
“She felt me. In her chest - she felt me. She felt how sad I was because she plays chess differently. What a silly thing for her to finally understand her powers over.”
Feyre and Azriel looked at each other, confused glances at Rhys’s rambling. He was stressed, pulling at the strands of his hair, his usually perfect hair strewn about. 
“Azriel,” he pointed to his brother before straightening his posture, “you are not to spend any more time with her. Feyre and I will take over all duties regarding her.”
Azriel felt molten hot rage inside of him as he stood quickly, ready to sling snarls at his brother, but Feyre pushed him behind her, pointing a finger back at Rhys. “He will do no such thing.”
“Yes he will. She’s going to see him and she’s going to know something’s wrong. She’s not an idiot - she hustled me at chess. She’s going to figure it all out.”
Feyre couldn’t even figure out what he was talking about. “She’ll figure it out eventually!”
“Yes, but we want her to find out in a controlled way. Not like this.”
Azriel felt a sting in his chest, the insinuation at his untamed emotions. He felt like a small child having caught his parents fighting over him.
“No.” Feyre’s tone was final. “That’s a terrible idea, Rhysand. To keep her from her mate? For who knows how long?”
“She’ll find out if she sees him!” Rhys’s eyes were wide, the veins in his neck popping.
“Afraid she’ll figure it out and remember who she’s mated to?” Azriel pushed Rhys, a snarl coming from him at the provocation. “Just fucking say it Rhys, you hated her being mated to me and this way you get to rewrite it.”
“That’s not-” Rhys chuckled, his voice deepening. “Az, you have it wrong.”
“Do I?” Az shoved Rhys again, the High Lord responding by shoving Az right back, nearly avoiding the table. 
“Yes. You have it wrong.”
“Because I’m too stupid to see why you’re trying to keep my mate from remembering me?” Shadows moved about the room, slithering aggressively as Rhys spoke of their mate.
“Rhys, you can’t keep him from her. She was progressing!” She yelled over their wrestling bodies, wincing as Azriel punched Rhys across the face. 
“No, he’s finally gotten the perfect chance for a do-over! I was never good enough for her, and now he can find someone who is.”
“Rhys, if she figures it out, would it be so bad? The sooner the better, right? I mean it’s only been a few weeks, you left me in the dark for months.”
Rhys pushed off the ground, shoving Azriel down as he straddled him. He pushed his head into the rug, Azriel’s shadows pushing against Rhys to no avail. The High Lord avoided the conflicting voices of the room, opting to focus his energy on Azriel instead. 
Azriel pulled his legs back, giving him momentum to swing his head up and headbutt Rhys on the forehead. The High Lord drew back, panting as he tried to get up. Azriel was quick on his feet, running forward into Rhys, knocking him back down. He held the High Lord down, yelling, “then what is it?”
“She’ll remember me!”
Azriel stilled, his hold on Rhys loosening. “What are you talking about?”
The fight had left Rhys’s body, his voice dejected as he let the truth he had been holding onto slip out softly. “She’ll remember how I didn’t save her. The two of you will leave.”
Feyre cooed from the side, “oh, Rhys.” She sat on the floor next to her mate, but she looked to Azriel instead, nodding to her mate when Azriel’s gaze met hers before flicking back down to his brother. 
“Why would I leave, Rhys?”
“Can we have this conversation when you’re not on top of me?”
“No.” Feyre and Azriel answered in unison, their tones laced with finality.
The air was still for a long moment, the only sounds were Rhys and Azriel’s heavy breathing.
“You hated me after she died, Az. I can’t go through that again.”
Azriel watched Rhys’s eyes get red, the violet eyes he loves so dearly lined with silver, but it just confused him. “I didn’t hate you.”
“You blamed me for her death.”
“I blamed all of Spring for her death.” Azriel’s tone was devoid of emotion, as if the court itself all banded together to condemn his mate’s life.
“You wouldn’t look at me for years.”
Azriel slumped, his weight on Rhys’s chest releasing the air from the High Lord’s lungs. “I couldn’t..” He trailed off before taking a deep breath and trying again. “I couldn’t look at you. You looked just like her.”
Azriel’s words were soft, but they hung in the air. Azriel shuffled off of Rhys, sitting on the floor, leaning against their bed. “It was easier to be angry, but whenever I looked at you, it made me… it was like she was seeing me again.”
Rhys crawled to sit next to his brother, Feyre sitting on the other side of Az. The shadowsinger refused to look at either, unable to take their pitying looks, looking to his boots instead. “It was like she was watching me fail her after she died.”
Rhys blew air from his lips, something roaring in Azriel at the action. “In what universe have you ever failed her? The only way you ever failed her was that one time you let her win at cards.” A laugh came from his lips at the memory, the way you had stomped about at your mate’s deception and loudly fought with him over it, much to Cassian and Mor’s drunken amusement. 
Az rolled his eyes, your huffing and puffing entering his mind. You had been so upset with him you didn’t want to look at him, but insisted he sleep in the same bed. You spent the night turned away from him, being an aggressive little spoon as he wrapped his limbs around you. “It was the hardest thing I had ever done, letting her win, and she didn’t even appreciate it. She wouldn’t look at me for days.”
You had refused to look at him, causing him to resort to any tactics to get the upper hand. His shadows had been very helpful in causing you to be needy for his touch, but he was quite annoyed with your defiance, going so far as to climb on top of him, but facing towards his feet as you rode him.
Rhys laughed, “the Mother has a sense of humor making the two most competitive creatures mates.”
Az pointed a finger at Rhys, “you’re no better! You said she hustled you. In what universe did you think you could ever beat her at chess?”
Rhys looked sheepishly to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had hoped perhaps along with her memories went some of her skill and wit.”
Feyre’s hand reached across Azriel to smack Rhys’s chest, saying his name in a chastising tone. He held his hands up in surrender, “serves me right, she swindled me out of a line of credit in her name.”
Azriel laughed so loudly it startled Feyre. “Her favorite hobbies always were spending someone else’s money and conning you.”
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Thanks for reading ❣️
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tsunami-of-tears · 6 months
Text
Reacting to Reader’s piercings
Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris & Rhys
A/N: I have a lot of piercings and thought this would be fun ♡ In my case with the nips they got LESS sensitive (thank goodness honestly) but I know a lot of people have the opposite happen. I have also decided that since they have fae blood - the piercings would heal much quicker and therefore they can do the nasty the same/next day.
Warnings: sexual themes (kinda smutty - especially the last one); piercings featured: ears, belly button, nipples and female genital.
Cassian - Belly Button
Cassian LOVES your stomach!
Especially after you’ve given him children. He always takes the time to kiss every stretch mark and worship you… 
You didn’t tell him about your plans for your piercing, deciding to surprise him. 
He’s about to ravish you when he lifts your top… His eyes go straight to the red gem at your navel and they light up.
“Babe is that sore?” “A little, but it’s so pretty right?” He strokes your tummy and kisses it all over. “I didn’t think I could like this any more than I already did… I need you,” he lifts you, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to bed.
Azriel - Nipples 
He saw them your first time together, he had the biggest smirk on his face as his fingers felt them through your shirt. 
He looks at you with a raised brow, slowly peeling off your shirt before taking your nipple in his mouth.
They’ve been much more sensitive since they got pierced, so you start squirming as soon as he touches them. 
He delights in toying with you and gives them lots of attention - always licking/sucking/softly biting/pinching/pulling.
And then when the shadows play too? They feel so cold as they swirl over your skin - your nipples get so hard it’s almost painful (in a good way). 
Outside of the bedroom, Azriel would love it when you don't wear a bra and he can see the outline of your jewellery through whatever you’re wearing. He probably gets a bit jealous if you go out with them visible without him, but he’d be so proud of his hot partner and showing you off. 
Lucien - Ears 
Lucien would have multiple earrings, and maybe even an eyebrow piercing on the opposite side of his scar. 
Of course, all his jewellery is gold and he swaps them out to match his outfits. He’s so stylish and you love that, always admiring him. 
You have your lobe piercing, but you want more. You finally decide to get some yourself, not telling Lucien. 
You come home from your appointment and wait for him to notice. 
Lucien is instantly by your side to greet you, he goes to kiss your cheek and stops when he sees the glinting gems and metals adorning your ear.
He smiles so wide, gently taking you in and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “My love, what did you get up to today?” He asks. “I got some more earrings, do you like them?” “They look beautiful, Y/N.” He traces the tip of your pointed ear sending a shiver down your spine. “But you are the most exquisite gem of all.”
After your new piercings heal - Lucien will help you pick out new pieces and change the jewellery for you.
When you attend formal events together, he loves matching with you and takes pride in the subtle details. You always make a handsome couple, but no one appreciates your beauty more than Lucien.
Eris - Nipples
You didn’t always have them, but it was something you’ve thought about for many years.
The man loves titties, especially yours.
When he sees your new bling for the first time, you’re in the bath and he comes to join you after a long day. 
He’ll slip in behind you and wrap his hands around you. He’ll squeeze your breasts in appreciation. They always feel nice, but they feel different today. He spins you around in his lap to get a look. 
“Cauldron boil me, you are going to be the death of me, Y/N.”
Eris will kiss all over you, completely worshipping you, and it’s not long until most of the bath water ends up on the floor.
Rhys - Female Genital 
Rhys always calls you cute star-themed pet names - so it was only fitting to add some sparkle to his favourite part.  
Rhys would be taking his time, loving every inch of you as he strips you down slowly. 
When that last piece of fabric is removed, he is straight on his knees. 
Of course the gem you picked is violet. Rhys looks very smug as he goes down on you - his eyes flicking between the stone and your face. 
He would send images of you writhing under his touch down the bond, so you get a good view of your newest adornment. 
Rhys was already completely obsessed with you, and seeing that colour marked you as his in a new way. From then on he loved taking you in any position that gave him the best view… 
Help I wanna get this piercing now 
403 notes · View notes
mother-above · 7 months
Text
All the Time in the World
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.
*I've made some edits! (nothing major)
Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)
*masterlist*
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Everything happens for a reason.
Those are five words people say to cope and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, how your hair blew in the wind, how your arms lifted to feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams. So vibrant and full of life while tugging their hands to make them hurry and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.
Sometimes, they would whisper, “Everything happens for a reason” before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was always a missing piece, a void that could never be filled. 
You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life. You just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down, of the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain. 
Fae with your powers could never be contained for too long, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but he acted too late, your power had grown.
When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. When they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. 
Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time. Around you was granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, a gaping hole came straight from the mountain's depths. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.
Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you eyed the male with violet irises. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”
Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.
That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and could manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine. 
Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and landslides affected the mountains around Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right above the House of Wind’s training ring. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream like that before.
One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.
You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.
Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped the sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face. 
“Azriel! Come here!”
He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water sticking his black shirt onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there in shock. 
“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel. 
Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse soaking wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Over time, one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.
The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating. No one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either. 
One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.
“Have you guys fucked yet?”
You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”
“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”
You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”
Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”
“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”
Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.
“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor. 
“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”
Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”
A week later, you finally dared to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the distant storm clouds. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.
“Are you okay?” Azriel focused on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss. 
You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”
Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream. 
“Oh, gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.
Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.” 
Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”
Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”
Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.
A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”
Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”
You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.
“Ahem.”
You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”
Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”
“High Lord Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”
Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”
Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future and what we want.”
Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.
He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. Your eyebrows scrunched when you noticed a shift within Azriel.
“Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready. 
How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city. 
Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger. 
Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.
Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were halfway down. 
Please don’t do that! It’s too dangerous, there must be another way.
Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.
That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.
Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you could detect the worm underneath you, you let out a strangled scream as you used every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the worm caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel. 
High Lord Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in. 
*** 
Your death shattered the inner circle’s life, they were never able to recover your body making them feel even worse. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm.  Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you, looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, and upon Azriel’s request, it was placed near the Sidra. 
Everything had turned upside down. It rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Tamlin never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of spring flowers bursting with color. You had once complimented the peonies that lined his estate and he never forgot about it. 
Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when you could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.
Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was dull, the stars didn’t shine as bright, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be. 
Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had gone by but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.
The inner circle had gone through so much since you died, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.
 ‘Rhys is stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel is being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. I have a suspicion my mate is Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’
Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. 
One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. You had befriended a beast in the mountains of Illyria. It was a horned creature and Rhysand had almost obliterated the monster but your delighted laugh stopped him. Yes, the beast was running at you but Rhys failed to notice your outstretched arms and bright grin. You were never scared. 
Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand as she admired the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.
“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”
The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears. 
Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron. 
“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.
Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’s in there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”
Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there? 
Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”
Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off her face.
Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.
a/n: thank you for reading! please let me know what thought in the comments! xoxo
Part 2
777 notes · View notes
erisvansserra · 3 months
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Follow You Fenrys x Reader x Azriel
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Summery: 30 years ago, Y/N fell through a portal and woke up in Prythian naked an afraid. She counted herself lucky that she was found by the shadowsinger and his high lord, who took her in and gave her a home. Despite their hospitality she dreamed of her home and the mate she left behind, Fenrys, who searched for her until one day.. he finds her.
AN:- GUYS this fanfic has legit been keeping me up at night so I thought I would share it with you all hahaha!!.
The light of the morning sun edged its head between the crack in the curtains, Azriel knew you were still asleep in the bed you shared, still snuggled between the sheets. He cursed himself for not coming through the door and choosing to fly straight to the balcony after work, spy work. Slowly he pushed the door open and poked his head inside. Relieved to see he hadn't wakened you up, he walked inside, spreading his wings to block out the rising sun from your face. Closing the door he walked over to his side of the bed, sat down and started kicking off his boots when he heard you stir behind him. "You're home late" You groan as he tips his head over his shoulder to look at you "Did something happen?" you continue and shuffle along the bed to make some room. "No, just had some reports to write up" Azriel answered as he slid into bed and wrapped you in his arms. Smiling softly, you nuzzled into his chest, still cold from riding on the wind to get home. You hummed sleepily and allowed yourself to fall back into that familiar comfort he offered you and began to dream.
30 Years Earlier Terrasen, your home as wild and free as your queen, Aelin. You sat at the dining table with Lysandra and Aedion as they spoke softly to their adoptive daughter. You hummed to yourself as you worked on the jewelry in your hand, slowly needling little diamonds onto it. You were so deep in concentration you didn't notice your mate's approach until his large hands landed on your shoulders, jolting you slightly. "Fen!" you yelp turning in your seat to look back at the golden male. Fenry's smiled down to you, his large canines making his smile look a little more sinister than he attended. "Did I scare you?" he chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you after placing a small kiss to the top of your head. "No" you lie and continue working on the necklace you're working on for Lysandra. You felt him move closer to you, his nose buried in your hair as he inhaled your sent "why don't we go for a swim? get your mind off this" he purred, his hand coming up to cover the necklace in your hand. You felt the want for him almost immediately, the hot pool in the pits of your stomach started to raise its head at his tone of voice. "There is a child present" Aedion snapped from the other side of the table, drawing both sets of eyes to him. Both you and your mate chuckled and decided to leave the room, together.
Fenrys was your typical fae male mate, he never left your side unless he needed to, he was territorial and protective... but what you loved most about him was he was fun. His golden hair was tied back in a bun, showing off his high cheekbones and sharp jaw line that made him look delicious. His onyx eyes slid to yours as a small smirk rose on his lips " like what you see?" he asked as he wrapped a toned, golden arm around your waist. "Always" you answer matching his smirk with your own. Your answer made his smile grow into his normal shit-eating grin, you roll your eyes playfully and rest your head on his shoulder as you continue making your way outside. The warm air kissed your skin as you opened the door to the courtyard, it was a beautiful day.
You and Fenrys skinny dipped in the lake not far from the keep, splashing each other playfully while swimming around in the cool water. What neither mate realized was this was the last day they were going to spend together, the last happy memory they would share before you were stripped from his arms in the middle of the night.
And dumped in Prythian.
Present Day
Mate, mate, mate, mate.
You miss your mate. As the dream rattles you awake you realise that Az is still asleep next to you, guilt hits you so fast you run out of the room and into the bathroom to throw up. As you retch into the toilet bowl you hear Az approach the bathroom and knock softly from the other side of the door. "Another dream?" he asks as he enters the room and crouches beside you to rub soothing circles on your back. "My mate" you answer as you peer at him between strands of fallen hair. He nods slowly, understanding the pain you feel and tucks some strands behind your ear. "Did you dream of falling again?" he asks, his voice as soft and gentle as silk. You nod once in response as your gut twists again threatening to spill more into the toilet bowl. Azriel was the most understanding person you had ever met, you weren't always with him, you were friends first. He was the one to find you that day, laying cold and naked on the forest floor. He took you to Rhysand, where he looked into your mind and saw everything, your home, your family.. Fenrys. It had taken some time for both sides to trust you, but in those years that Rhys was under the mountain you had grown close with the inner circle. Particularly Az. He knew your past, knew of the mate that you had been ripped away from... but he loved you all the same and was willing to give you the time you needed.
So here you both sat in front of the toilet bowl for the thousandth time in your relationship. Him giving you soft soothing words while you mourned the loss of your mate and your life. After some time, he scooped you into his arms and placed you back into bed. ......................
Later that day you sat in the living room with Feyre and Nyx, laughing as you watched the young lad learn to walk but failing. A warm cup of tea sat in your hands, the heat slightly burning the sensitive flesh of your palm, but you ignored it. Azriel had been called on by Cassian, something about a disturbance near the Illyrian camps they had to check out. He placed a warm kiss on your cheek before he flew off with his brother. "Any improvement?" Nesta asked as she walked into the room and plopped onto the couch next to you. "Hardly" Feyre answered as she took the babe back into her arms and planted kisses all over his face, making nyx scream in laughter. You and Nesta smiled as Nyx's fits of giggles filled the room, you looked to Nesta and offered her the cup in your hands. "its still warm" you prod as you hand the tea to her, she sips it then hands it back to you.
You and Nesta were best friends, she was a huge bitch to you at the start but recently... she's been the only person besides Az that understands your pain, your longing for home. She's also the only person in this whole house that reads dirty smut books with you.
"Bleh, I hate peppermint tea" she croons as she pulls a face, looking at the cup in your hands. "But its good for you" you jest and give her a sweet smile, bringing the tea back to your own lips. You and Nesta spend the rest of the afternoon talking and watching her nephew rise and fall. Feyre is about to out Nyx down for a nap when Rhysands voice fills your head.
"Come to the forest at once"
You and Feyre share a look, obviously she had been given orders to winnow you there. She quickly explains this all to Nesta then plops her son into her sisters hands, you hadn't had time to say anything to Nesta before Feyre grabbed you and winnowed away to the forest. Snow crunched under your feet as you landed behind the three warriors. Cassian, Az and Rhysand all had their weapons out and their backs turned to you. The wind hit your body so hard it almost knocked you backwards, the smell of pine and snow filling your senses as you tried to blink away the stinging in your eyes. "I don't want to fight you" came a rough voice that didn't belong to the three males in front of you, but did belong to someone you knew. Rowan, your oldest cousin and longest friend. Stalking forward you pushed through the three males that shielded you, you could have fell to your knees as Rowan's eyes met your own. A hand flew in front of you protectively, but you knocked it away as you ran to him, calling his name over and over. "y/n!" Rowan shouted, dropping his sword so he could wrap you in his arms. "How? How?" You asked as you buried your face into your cousin's neck, your body shaking as he held you against him. "Aelin, she worked it out" he explained as he pulled you away from him, his eyes darting from one side of your face to another taking in everything you were and everything you are. The Night Court stood behind you in complete shock, their faces blank as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. Azriel felt the pull to go and comfort you but held strong, not knowing this male and how he would react. Then a crunch of twigs caught their attention, a small blonde female emerged from the forest surrounding them, a small ball of fire danced in her palm as she walked towards you and rowan. You looked to Aelin for the first time in 30 years, she looked slightly older but unchanged from the Aelin in your memories. You didn't even shout her name, as she approached you fell to your knees and placed your head on the snow below you. "Aelin, forgive me" you pleaded to her, to your queen "I tried to come home but-" you continued but your words hitched in your throat as you felt her body call over yours. "Don't apologies you idiot" she said against your skin, slowly you raised and hugged her back while rowan stared down the night court still behind you. "Should we introduce ourselves?" Cassian mumbled to no one in particular catching your attention. You take Aelin's hand and help her stand; you walk her and your cousin over to your friends and make introductions. "This is your cousin?" Cassian asked, nodding his head to Rowan as he stood with Aelin, a protective arm wrapped around her waist as he held her close. You nodded in response and looked up to the white hair male, his green eyes still darted between each person in front of him. " He is a bit of a brute" you say as you turn your attention back to the night court, earning a small smile from Feyre and a chuckle from Az. It hit you then, Azriel was here and had watched you reunite with your family, your court. You took a few steps toward him, but he held up his hand stopping you from coming any closer, confused, you nodded and stood still. Rhysand invited Aelin and Rowan to stay in the townhouse while the night court discussed their next move, they obliged and allowed Rhy's to winnow them away. "You must be happy" Feyre said coming to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "I am" you said smiling back to her " I could go home" you continue softly. Feyre looks over her shoulder to Az who stares emotionless into the distance, she sighs and then turns her head forward again and whispers "he will miss you". You feel that guilt from earlier pang around in your chest again, you don't dare to look back at the shadowsinger, you and he both knew that your time together had just come to an end. " I will miss him too" you confess as Rhys winnows back to the forest.
"Come on, I will take you to be alone with them" Rhy's says and extends a tanned hand to you, smiling you leave Feyre's embrace and fit your hand in his. Not looking back as he takes you to the family you have dreamed of every night for the last 30 years.
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cupids-chamber · 2 years
Text
KISSING Azul's beauty marks, leaving light peppermint kisses on Malleus's horns, ruffling Leona's hair, petting him, leaving small kisses on each of his ears, Kissing Silver, to wake him up...
GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Is Silver's part, just me showing my inner Silver simp? Nooo-
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Leona was settled on your lap, as you fiddled around with his hair.. it would have bothered Leona, but he let you as you pleased, your touch was rather comforting, and stress relieving. It felt as though all his problems would disappear, when he's with you like this.. The soft praises you whisper makes him all soft and gushy inside, a feeling he wasn't quite familiar with.. he hoped you didn't notice.. Leona disliked looking weak.. especially to you.. He'd be beyond embarrassed if you told him you noticed his little grin, and the way his tail would move in excitement, while you pet him.
It was a rather amusing sight, Leona's tail moving around in excitement and his ears perking up and moved ever so slightly, rhythm in sync with all your movements, touches, and compliments. Your praise was the biggest ego booster for this lion.
Leona closed his eyes for a bit, trying to sleep. The way your hands moved, ruffling his hair, every soft touch lulling him to sleep. Yet his senses overloaded, the moment you leaned down, and pressed two soft kisses on his ears, the feeling lingered, as he felt his ears tingle with heat.. He was flustered.. And if that wasn't enough, his tail started wagging aggressively.. He was sure he could hear you giggling right about now.. "What are you laughing at herbivore!"
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You entered the room, Azul was working on some sort of paperwork, as always.. Nothing out of the usual.. but your precious octopus, has been rather busy lately.. you were afraid he was overworking himself, It was at this point that Azul noticed your presence, as he turned to smile at you, flashing you a rather tired grin. You sighed, knowing full well he wasn't planning to rest anytime soon.. "How was your day today love?" Azul asked, his voice was less energetic then usual, "It was good.. I suppose.. How about you?" you asked, as you made your way towards him, carefully sitting on his lap, "Your not overworking yourself, are you?" you asked..
"Of course not!" he said, focusing his attention on you, as he slowly moved his arms around your waist, making sure you were comfortable in the position you were in. "hmm, but you should get some rest, K?" you carefully grabbed his face, pulling it towards you, you watched as his face tinted red ever so slightly, as he hesitated to answer.. He never liked lying to you, nor did he enjoy making false promises to you.. "Fine.." Azul complied with a sigh.
"Do you promise?" you asked, moving a tad bit closure, as your eyes stared straight into his. Causing him to grow slightly nervous. He stuttered ever so slightly, no matter how long the two of you were together, he could never grow completely used to the closeness between you two.. "I-i promise"
You grinned, as he finally complied to your words, you pulled him closer leaning in, and just before your lips touched, you leaned down and kissed his beauty mark. "See you later tonight!" you winked as you left a very flustered and tired octopus in his office.. 'What am I going to do with you' Azul thought, as the door finally closed.
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You were settled on Malleus's lap, as he rambled on and on, about his favorite subject.. Gargoyles! You were half mindedly listening, focusing more on fiddling around with his hair, admiring his features.. After all, it's not always you get to have such a close up view of the fae prince.. though if you asked you would be able too..
Malleus, went on to explain some random facts about Gargoyles in, in-depth detail. You hummed at everything he said, making sure he didn't feel ignored, when you had an idea.. "Malleus what's your favorite Gargoyle again?" you asked, the question was rather controversial, you know this conversation wouldn't end any time soon.. but.. you had an idea! "Well I quite really have a Gargoyle I favor.. but —" .. He continued on and on about the subject, when you suddenly started rubbing his horns.
Malleus got a bit flustered, the action was rather unexpected, he tripped over his words ever so slightly, if you looked down, you could see just how red the man was. You proceeded to take things up a notch' by coming a bit closer, and leaving soft lingering kisses on his horns. An action, that is guaranteed to shut your poor lover up..
When you were finished with messing with your prince, you lowered yourself down to his level, and gave him a big hug. "Malleus?" you poked him in the cheek.. The man looked stunned and flustered.. 'I guess he's still processing things..' you thought, as you giggled..
The two of you were in your early stages of a relationship, and needless to say your lover is quite easily flustered by your actions.
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Lilia had told you that he couldn't find Silver, the two of you had gotten together a couple months ago, and Lilia suggested that maybe you should go out and find Silver, since you seemed to know his favorite sleeping spots well. Somehow that convinced you to go and look for Silver by yourself.
Walking around the forests of NRC, you found Silver sound asleep, leaning ever so comfortably on the tree. 'He looks so beautiful'.. He looked very comfortable.. You almost forgot why you were here! You were supposed to wake Silver up! Though you could have just simply nudged him and called out for him.. you had other ideas... Comfortably sitting beside Silver, you leaned in.. and for a second you paused with your movements. Taking in his features.. 'He looked lovely' you nudged your head, mumbling under your breath to focus.
You leaned in and gave Silver a kiss, Silver was quite sensitive to movement, that seemed foreign.. especially in his sleep. It didn't take long for him to carefully open his eyes, as he made eye contact with you.. "It's time to wake up love.."
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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ervotica · 8 months
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pairing; lucien vanserra x fem!fae!reader
warnings; smut, 18+ only, p in v, dom!lucien, dirty talk🤤, lucien is a cocky bastard and we love him for it <3 in conclusion, i love him<3
lucien vanserra and his dirty fucking mouth.
he has you propped up against his chest, face smushed against the smooth dip of his neck and muscles turning to nothing more than putty beneath his knowledgable hands, hands that roam every inch of your skin, that palm at your bottom to spread your aching cunt further for him to sink into. you might as well be split in two for the way he's making you feel, speared open on the thick length of him, bare breasts pressed to the planes of hard muscle that make up his torso.
"feeling good, sweetheart?" the cocky bastard snarks, rolling a pert nipple between a thumb and forefinger when his hips cant up to sheath the last inch of himself in your soft walls. you nod vehemently, a shudder ripping through you, his teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck like a feral predator.
your body arches - toward or away from his touch, you're not sure - a high pitched keen clawing its way from your throat as calloused, ring-clad fingers splay over the base of your spine to draw your bareness to his own.
"luc-" you moan, reaching for breath when he digs a thumb to the hollow of your throat and presses down. a shiver of appreciation careens down the bond, spreading and seeping into your veins right up to the tips of your pointed ears. you feel yourself flush white-hot when his arm hooks around your neck to cage you against him. "more, please," you croak.
"is my little devil begging?" he teases but complies nonetheless, pistoning his hips once, twice, thrice until you're grappling for purchase against the smooth, hard ridges of his stomach, rocking yourself back against his cock when he pulls away even an inch.
you don't have it in yourself to protest as you usually would, a string of "yes, yes, oh yes," falling from your spit slick lips. his thumb presses against the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, a lazy smirk tilting his mouth up at the corners as you part your lips and allow him to slip the digit in further to press against your tongue.
"so easy to break," he muses, fingers clamping against the curve of your jaw when you suckle on his thumb; the sensation goes straight to his cock, doubling down when you gaze up at him through sticky, wet lashes, lids drooping in an effort to keep your eyes trained on him. the wet schlick as he ruts into your dripping heat has you going soft and limp, giving yourself to him as he tugs on the bond affectionately- a stark juxtaposition to the cruel hand twisting into your hair, baring your bruised throat to him. “beautiful. so beautiful taking my cock, sweetheart.”
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 3 months
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Part I
Word count: 3600+
Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)
Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨
Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷
Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears
Part II
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A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.
Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.
His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.
You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.
You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.
You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.
You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.
You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.
However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.
You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.
You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.
If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.
You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.
In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.
Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.
You feared the future but you had no choice.
You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.
It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.
"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.
You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.
At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.
You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.
Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.
You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.
You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.
Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.
You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.
"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"
"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.
"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."
He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.
The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.
Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.
"Can we?"
A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.
You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.
It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.
His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.
It was confusing.
He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.
When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.
Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.
As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.
His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.
Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.
The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.
Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.
Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.
"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?
"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.
Eris's eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.
When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.
After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.
Nervously you swallowed.
It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.
Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.
When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.
Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.
"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.
Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.
"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.
He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.
By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.
Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.
"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.
"Yes, my lord."
You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.
Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.
High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.
Eris's warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.
You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.
If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.
The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.
As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.
Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.
He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.
Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.
The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.
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