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lunarxcity · 2 months ago

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Why Pretend? (Part X to Why Me?)

Azriel x rhys sister! reader!

angst/eventual comfort (A little bit of fluff a little bit of angst because nothing in life is free)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, and IX if you missed them!

Azriel has a shadow and while he is accustomed to having many shadows the shadow he is referring to is not his. It follows him around constantly, not offering him even a second's respite. He shadow is on his heels at all time and unlike the elusive nature of his shadows this one was corporal.

The shadow he is referring to is the pet fox you had recieved from Eris of course. Whenever you were busy or not home the fox would follow Azriel around like a lost puppy which in some sense it was. It was fun at first but it was starting to get on his nerves, the fox followed him everywhere. He means everywhere.

At one point he was doing his paperwork and had looked away for a second and when he looked back the fox was gnawing on his pen. The pen was still in his hand. Another time they had came inside the bathroom and had just stared at him while he took a bath which was uncomfortable at the least and creepy at the most.

But it wasn't permanent; whenever you would come home the fox would run excitedly to you, it's owner and you would excitedly sweep him up in your arms littering his head in kisses. Azriel cannot believe that he is jealous of a cauldrons-damned fox and he believed that the fox knew it too, always staring at him with his sly foxy smile as you held him and gave him all your attention.

Azriel sulked over his bitterness towards the fox for a few days until he redeemed himself by hissing at Eris and trying to bite his hand. Azriel had snuck him some of the steak from the previous night's dinner as a reward ad he considered that truce enough.

Azriel hadn't properly spoken to you since the fateful night in your room, where in his sleepy jealousy-addled mind he had thought boisterously flirting with you the way that Eris or Cassian would could be the way that he could sway your affections. He was so jealous that he thought he could out-Eris Eris at his own game and it backfired, horribly.

He not only made a fool of himself, but had actually worried you. Instead of swooning over his flirty words, you had instead became worried thinking he had been going mad. He didn't know whether to apologise to you or to pretend like it had never happened, but it didn't matter because he had barely seen you this past week.

You had constantly been with Nesta and the rest your book club or with Madja working or showing Eris and Lucien around Velaris. He's also pretty sure he saw Rhys and Feyre sneaking out to breakfast with you. At this point you were regularly hanging out with everyone except for him, he even saw you having tea and biscuits with Elain, Mor, and Amren. You were spending more time with Amren than him.

Whenever he would catch you he would ask to properly make plans and talk, but you had brushed him off every day this week with a different excuse. First, it was busy, then it was you already had plans, by the time you hit the seventh excuse and said that your fox was attention depraved and needed one-on-one bonding time it was getting ridiculous.

Everything should have been fine between the two of you, so why were you ignoring him. He doesn't think it's the remarks he made because your sleep-addled brain was likely not processing anything as much as he had been. He knows you get cranky when you're woken up, and you're so focused on complaining that you're tired that you can't fully process anything going on around you. He found it adorable, actually.

So Azriel sat on one of the living room sofas and continued to interrogate the fox.

"Okay so blink twice if she's upset with me again and sneeze if she isn't."

The fox looked at him deadpan. At this point he was judging Azriel too and who could blame him.

Time passed and the fox continued to blink, unaffected by the words of the shadowsinger.

"AHA! I KNEW IT-"

Azriel stood up so quickly that he had lost his balance and toppled over the couch.

"Introducing the most feared warrior in all of prythian. Asking animals for love advice and toppling over couches, be afraid."

Cassian was cackling and Azriel was looking up at him deadpan from his position on the floor. This only made Cassian laugh more which led to him spilling his drink all over the floor.

Nesta walked in holding a rag like she was already anticipating this was going to happen. "Why are you acting like this is a new thing you haven't heard Azriel talk to him yet?" She points to the fox.

Cassian's face goes straight and then he erupts in laughter clutching his stomach and bending over unable to catch his breath.

"Mother help me." She throws the rag over his face and went over to help Azriel up.

Lately, you've felt like you're being followed. You can't escape the feeling of being watched, you swear there are phantom eyes peering over your shoulder anytime you leave the house of wind.

If you had known any better, you would say that you're being followed, but you have a feeling you already know who the perpetrator is, and you would rather accept ignorance's comfort than deal with the burden of truth.

Truth would be a blow taken to the walls you have built up; one that could be strong enough to tumble them completely. Your defenses have been lowered since your emotionally charged discussion with Azriel, but he wasn't deserving of your unyielding attention anymore.

You didn't even want to give him half of it. The idea that he would only now start becoming drawn to you because of this bond that he knows nothing about is a bitter poison, just like the one you are currently infecting the plant on your desk with.

The plant sits on one of Madja's dark oak working desks in the back of her office adjacent to the vials of mysterious glowing neon liquids boiling on burners with different colored flames. The liquid you're working with is a dark purple boiling on a flame of pink.

You need to infect the plant with a mercurial disease, one that slowly drains its life force, only showing external signs of danger when it's teetering on the brink.

You will then try to heal it back to health with one of the various bubbling potions and elixirs you have been working on. Open books were strewn everywhere accompanied by the quills scattered from your note taking.

Black ink spilled on empty pages eerily reminding you of the spies lurking in all the corners of the room, likely reporting your movements back to your alleged stalker.

You knew that they were spying on you from the difference in how the shadow he gave you behaves and the shadows he sent. Although they are scattered in the room, you could recognise where the shadows hide. You look at the potted tree that sits in front of one the bookshelves and see that the shadows are a bit darker than usual and that they are a bit sharper. The movements are calculated and rigid and you know those shadows are on duty.

You try and go back to your work. You've been ignoring the owner of the shadows lately your confrontation took a toll on you and you just didn't want to deal with him.

You've been getting to work early and staying late, Madja doesn't know whether to be impressed or concerned. Every time you try to evade him the Mother always has another plan.

It started when you misplaced a vial that you had been brewing all day of a possible healing potion. Exhaustion and frustration had taken a toll on you and tears began brimming in your eyes when you saw the vial rolling towards you on the ground.

Since then random things have began appearing, always in your aid. Random baked goods you've been known to like, caffeinated beverages during your afternoon slump, misplaced items being mysteriously found, and even a bowl of steaming soup one day when you forgot to eat.

Confronting who is behind this would lead to a lot more confrontations that you just weren't ready to face and let's face it you were so tired that it was a huge help.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for looking forward to the ministrations of your little helpers and you told yourself that if you told him you would be giving him the satisfaction, so you would continue to pretend like you don't notice.

At this point you were fighting a ghost; the push and pull of your feelings towards the shadowsinger were something that had been brewing inside of you and while you had partially aired it out there was a lot more brewing under the surface.

You looked back at the plant, the vivid green colour had begun to slowly fade, and you knew that the toxin had begun to take effect. Just a few more minutes and then you could start experimenting with your various potions.

You had been there since the morning and had lost track of how many hours it had been since sunset. Madja and her apprentices had all left hours ago, leaving you muttering to yourself in her study. You looked more mad scientist than healer, and you knew that if anyone saw your current state, they would be very alarmed and slightly terrified.

When you focused on something, it consumes you; the mere thought of it takes over your mind until you can only focus on that one thing, and right now it was your research. You've heard rumours of a disease spreading throughout Prythian, one that is immune to healing magic due to its degenerative nature.

Your head began to spin. How long had it been since you've eaten? It must have been a little while, but it must have been longer since the last time you had felt the fresh air on your skin.

You sat down on one of the chairs and put your head in your hands, hoping that it would offer you some respite from the sudden onslaught of dizziness.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Did one of the apprentices leave something behind?

"Come in." You try to say as normal as possible, but even that comes out weary like the exhaustion has even worn down your vocal cords.

You feel him before you see him, cobalt siphons glowing under the darkness of night. Wings tucked in and hazel eyes twinkling with the reflection of the stars that shimmered on the hilt of the weapons he bore. A warrior in a place of healing. A destructor in a place meant to fix and heal.

The glow of the candlelight made him look softer; the lines of his face were much less harsh in this light and even his shadows looked less sharp. He almost looked at place in the warm golden golden light surrounded by life and knowledge, you swore the shadows cast by the plants and books had almost turned towards him beckoned by his call.

Right now, he wasn't the terrifying shadow of a warrior's blade, perfectly honed for destruction and so sharp you could barely see it. He was the sun's shadow at dawn, the respite after a long, cold night, lazily stretching out over the horizon. He was the shadow that children play with, the one you find comfort in when your truly alone.

He approached you carefully, like you would run away from him screaming if he got too close. He placed a bag on the table next to you and knelt in front of you.

Picking up your head from your hands, he looks you in your eyes, scanning your face to see what's wrong. His cold gloves are a relief on your warm skin and you begin to close your eyes exhuastion taking over.

"Hey hey. Stay with me now." The words quickly leave his lips and you look up remembering where you are and who your with.

He pulls out something from his bag and hands it to you. Bringing it to your lips you drink what appears to be some sort of enchanted water meant to enhance hydration. Madja must have put him up to this.

He leaves you for a moment to collect yourself, you can't even form words at the point of exhaustion you have reached. When was the last time you had an actual conversation with another individual?

He walks around, taking in the state of your workspace, the various books, potions and piles and piles of notes. You know he's been trying to catch you, trying to spend time with you, but anytime you haven't been here in your little lab you've been with different members of your family to try and make up for lost time.

The back and forth between self-isolation and completely locking yourself up has caused you to burn yourself out. He knew it, and you knew it. Ignoring him was a bit selfish and petty on your part, but you don't have it in you to pretend to care at the moment.

You can't help people if you don't find a cure, and you can't find a cure without working.

You feel your temperature start to lessen and your head is growing less hazy, whatever liquid Azriel had given you had worked wonders.

"So are you going to lecture me now and drag me outside my lab because I will give you the same answer I gave Rhys-"

He cuts you off with a sigh.

"I would never tell you what to do, I only wish you would take care of yourself more." He looks at you, his eyes carrying the weight of secrets that he knew he could never spill. The feelings that he lost the right to divulge.

He would never command your attention directly and after his attempt at trying to emulate Eris had greatly embarrassed him he decided to follow his own approach. Azriel's love was a silent whisper in the dark, it was not meant to be loud or seen for that would defeat the purpose.

If he could make your life only a little bit easier that would be enough for him, he didn't need your care or your devotion the promise of your wellness was enough for him. He was told to back off, but he just couldn't watch you slip away into your work so he sent his shadows to be your silent assistants.

The honesty that shone in his eyes was enough to have your resolve crumbling because this was the Azriel that had admired greatly for so long. The loyal Azriel who would put other's first and cared more than he would ever let on.

He pulls out a sandwich from the mysterious bag he had brought and hands it to you, grabs a chair, and plops himself down directly next to you.

"If you're not going to slow down, then at least let me help you. Whatever you wish me to do, name it and it will be done."

He speaks each word like it's a promise and you look at him wide-eyed, "Do you not have spymaster duties to attend to?"

Without missing a beat, he says, "This is my priority at the moment, any other task is secondary."

You look up at the Mother, she really isn't offering you any sort of respite. Oh well an extra pair of hands is an extra pair of hands and you needed the help considering just a moment ago you were teetering on the brink of collapse.

You begin to eat your sandwich, feeling your energy levels slowly rise. "Alright, but this is only for tonight."

He nods, a look of surprise written across his features like he couldn't believe you didn't shoo him away and that you were actually letting him help. His shadows even perked up and began excitedly swirling around. Is this how your mother felt when she told little you and Rhys that you guys could help her in the kitchen?

You immediately realise that you have never had anyone directly assist you in your lab. You were very particular about each and every thing, which led to you declining help because having someone else in your space was unpredictable and could lead to events out of your control, like how you and Rhys accidentally burned the dinner you were helping with and then were banned from the kitchen by your Mother.

You began giving him instructions on what herbs to grind up, and for each one, he would ask what it was and what it did, asking questions and even looking surprised at the potency of a mere plant. You were actually very excited to tell him about everything; you couldn't talk about it with the healers since they were already so knowledgeable and you didn't want to bore your family to death with idle talk about plants.

He would ask what would happen if you combined various plants and why certain mixtures had to be prepared the way they did. You excitedly divulged on how the properties of certain plants could be enhanced or completely change when mixed with others or exposed to heat.

He stayed out of your way and followed your directions to a tee. When your plant had began to show external bruising you cut it up and began to apply the different elixirs on the different pieces of decaying plant.

Azriel just sat back and watched you work in awe and had his shadows transcribe notes for you in scathing detail, looking it over just to make sure they didn't miss anything. He knew you always complained about how time-consuming the write-ups can be post experiment.

You were on your last elixir, a lilac liquid that was about the same thickness as mud and had smelled like rock dust. The midnight sky was beginning to lighten into a similar color as the potion and you feel your eyes becoming bleary from staying up all night.

Azriel moved your hand to spill a few drops on the final plant stem fragment and you watched the graying decay stop in it's track. You smiled to yourself.

It's not a cure, but it's progress. The first big sign of progress you had made. You look over to Azriel, and he was already looking at you and smiling. His arms were out and next thing you knew, you were buried in his arms, both of you happily laughing.

He picked you up and spun you around. You don't know why the last few times you've seen him have always when you've been so sleep deprived that your inhibitions are borderline non-existent.

He looks away for a moment and nods towards his shadows. They wash over your workspace, like a tidal wave of night, and when they return to him you notice that everything on your desk is in order.

They swirl around his shoulders and he looks proud that he could help you in any matter he could.

"Come on, let's go home." You tell him, scared of the direction this was going in.

He packs up the bag that he brought and holds out his hand.

"If that is what you like, then so be it." You thought he was going to winnow you, but instead, he leads you out the door and down the hall towards a golden spiraling staircase.

You follow him until your senses are assaulted by the elements. Wind on your face and the light that flirts with the horizon. You may have been doomed but your sleep schedule was obliterated.

You walk over to the edge and take a deep breath. You had spent so long cooped up indoors that you had forgotten how nice it felt to feel fresh air on your skin. You go up to the railing of the roof, and Azriel follows, standing right next to you.

He was silent, and you were glad for it. The lack of words somehow made this moment even more intimate, and you cursed your treacherous heart for the way it beat perfectly in tune with the shadowsinger, as if you were playing a duet.

"I don't know if I ever told you this, but you truly are a genius. You are truly in your element. I could spend eternity watching you work and wish for an eternity more only to see it again."

His voice is shadows and whispers and everything you have to fight yourself to get lost in.

Light breaks over the horizon, and a sliver of sun catches the gold in his eyes. You can't even tell which is brighter, and you think it may be the smile he wears. He's looking at you as if you were the first light of day after a hundred years of night, you see awe, admiration, and something else you don't want to read too much into because it would be your ruin if it were true and your destruction if it were false.

That you could immortalise this moment and never let it go. That you could pretend that all the history and pain had never happened and you could just be existing like you were right now.

"I used to think the same way when I first saw you fight with your shadows. Before, it seemed like they controlled you, but those times when they become an extension of you, you become night incarnate, and it never fails to leave me in awe."

Your voice is soft, your words a silent admission, for his shadows are an extension of himself, and while many look away in fear, you admire them and by extension him. Azriel has fought in wars, he has won valor and admiration from his time on the battlefield.

He has medals and a title that only a few warriors can claim and in the face of all he has achieved this single compliment from you may be the single greatest accomplishment that he has achieved in his long fae life. He wishes he could imprint your words on his skin and wear it for the rest of his days.

His cheeks redden, you notice. The almighty shadowsinger doesn't blush. Have you embarrassed him? Did you say something wrong? Oh gods maybe you shouldn't have said anything about the shadows.

You open your mouth to apologise when he swiftly scoops you and shoots towards the sky.

"Azriel!" You yell at him, the surprise of the moment catching you off guard, and then he is laughing. You guys soar through the skies, taking in the beauty of the sunrise. Lilac, gold, pink and orange blending together in perfect harmony.

You are so entranced you didn't even realise you made it home until Azriel plops you on your feet and you almost sink to the floor tiredness hitting you all at once making your legs feel like jelly.

He smirks and then picks you up bridal style and triumphantly carries you into the house, with the stealth that one only obtains from years of being a spymaster. You felt like you were teenagers sneaking around after you'd been forbidden to see one another.

It's a feeling you're cherishing a lot more than you would care to admit. It's not until you make it to your room and his shadows close the door behind you that he begins to grin before throwing you on your bed.

You land with an "Oof."

You give him a look of betrayal.

"I had to make up for being softer on the landing than usual somehow."

You both look at each other and burst into laughter.

The mask of the spymaster left broken in tatters somewhere on the floor of your lab hours ago, and he didn't even care to look for it.

"Who knew you had a had sense of humour Az. Where have you been hiding it all these years?"

You had called him Az. At this rate he would turn into Cassian, stupid jokes flying from his mouth in rapid succession just to hear you call him Az.

"Is that what you want for me to turn into another Cassian?" He asks jokingly, well at least half joking.

You looked at him and then doubled down on the fit of laughter you were having, tears streaming from your eyes.

"As much as I would love to see that, I think Cassian would throw a temper tantrum at you taking his spot. I like you as you are, you are my calm in the everlasting storm, becoming a clown doesn't suit you."

You say as you begin to catch your breath from all the laughter and wipe your tears from your eyes.

He doesn't understand how you could just make these world-breaking statements and just look completely fine while his stomach was in knots and his heart was in a twist from your words alone.

He gives you a small smile, one reserved for only you, and he begins to depart. You needed your rest and so did he.

"I would tell you goodnight, but I'm afraid we are way past that at this point. So until next time, I will bid you farewell."

He looks to you to see you already strewn out on your bed fast asleep. He leaves his shadows to change you into your nightclothes and make sure you are comfortable in bed and he smiles to himself as he closes your door and heads to his room where sleep welcomes him instead of drags him under for the first time since he had fallen asleep in your room.

Your words to Azriel about his assistance being a one time thing had turned into a lie. He would show up at odd hours whenever he had down time, sometimes before a mission sometimes directly after.

You guys had fallen into a routine of sorts, and it was actually helping your productivity and you got to get out of writing those treacherous reports.

You had preferred him to come at night though, since an Illyrian warrior did tend to draw a lot of attention during the day and all the apprentices and even Madja herself give you a knowing look whenever Azriel enters the building.

You had been getting a lot closer with your final result with Azriel's help and while you haven't fully figured out a way to reverse the cell degradation you had managed to stop it and in combination with other potions you, with the help of Azriel, had developed you could at least stabalize a patient enough that their life could be saved.

Huge progress. Groundbreaking progress. The night you had made that discovery you let out a scream so loud that Madja came rushing in from her dwelling on the floor above. Her worry had quickly turned to elation as you guys stayed there excitedly reviewing your work while Azriel just silently lingered in the background.

She then brought both of you into a bone-crushing hug with a strength that no one her age should possess, and made you present your findings to all the healers at her monthly briefings and then again to the inner circle.

They were all eyeing you and Azriel curiously, you weren't surprised by this since they knew that he was your mate and everything that had gone down since that discovery.

Right now you were still tinkering with the potion, seeing if there was a way to make it more effective when Madja had walked in with a smirk.

"Your shadowsinger is here to see you." Mother above you swear she could be worse than the adolescent apprentices at times.

"He's not my anything, you don't have to say it like that." You give her a retort and feel like your back in school pretending you don't have a crush.

"If you say so." She says shit-eating grin plastered on her face. The lines around her eyes reflect all the years and experience she has on you, and while her words were lighthearted, there is wisdom behind them.

Azriel strides in looking frantic, his shadows were rapidly swirling around him, and he was obviously in a rush. He rushes to you and grabs your arms in his hands.

"I have a mission, it's urgent, and I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Your heart fell, you're going to miss his company, but he is never this way when he goes on a mission. You then realise why he's here. He doesn't know if he's going to make it or not.

You've only seen him this way on a handful of missions, and each time he returned from one, he had come back on the brink of death. His line of work asks for payment in the form of risk and for once you wanted to ask him to stay. You had a bad feeling.

"You have my shadow if you need it. If anything happens, you can tell him." Azriel tells you like he is briefing his soldiers for war or his spies for a mission.

You nod your head scared your voice would betray you. You hide your face in his chest and he wraps his arms around you. Half the reason was you wanting to be closer before your separated and the other half is to hide the tears threatening to spill over your waterline.

You stayed there for a minute until you felt the pulse of his shadows. He's being called somewhere. He has to go.

You pull away and his hand goes from your head to caressing your cheek wiping away the stray tear that begins to fall.

"Come back to me in one piece. I mean it Azriel." You whisper to him like commanding him to be safe would protect his life. You gave him a lifeline, but even that wasn't enough to soothe the worry beginning to bloom in your chest.

"I would fight the Mother herself if she stood between us. I mean it." The words are a vow and you knew he spoke the truth.

Before you could say anything else he disappeared in a wave of shadow, leaving only a small silver bag in his wake. You can't bring yourself to open it not right now.

You knew in your chest that Azriel was not going to be back for a little while if at all. You fall to the ground and cry as Madja holds you together.

The next 2 weeks had felt like an eternity. No word from Azriel, Rhys refused to divulge what kind of mission he was on, and Cassian missed his training buddy. Even your pet fox seemed down in Azriel's absence.

You opened the silver bag a week later, and it had been a little plush bed for your fox with a note that read:

"For your new apprentice, may he keep you good company in my absence. - Az"

You missed him. You weren't even going to pretend like the questioning eyes of the healer's apprentices silently asking you where your Illyrian went and if everything was alright didn't get to you.

That the occasional stabbing of fear and worry down the bond didn't cause sleepless nights and that you woke up from countless nightmares, clutching your chest to make sure the bond was intact and he was still alive.

14 days it had been.

The longest 14 days of your life.

You were in Madja's, well basically your, office when you felt him. He was near. He had to be. You felt the bond light up and then start screaming and then he emerged from the shadows.

Your excitement had quickly turned to horror as you saw that the leathers on his chest had been singed, almost disintegrated off and his skin was a darker color than the shadows.

"Azriel!" You screamed physically and mentally for Rhys, for Madja, for anyone who could hear.

Rhys was there in a second, and Madja right after, running through the doors. Feyre, Cassian, and Feyre winnowed in mere moments later.

A jolt of pain like you never knew burned in your chest and you felt the bond flicker.

Madja rushed to her shelves, quickly beginning her work, no time to spare to even process what's happening.

Rhys looks at you with a look of complete panic on his face, "What's happening? You can feel him."

"He's slipping away Rhys. I can't-"

Madja yells your name, a reminder that the longer you spend panicking over Azriel's, the less time he has to live.

You rush to Madja, the bond act like a physical hourglass making you feel Azriel's time slowly run out, and race against it to save your Mate.

Somewhere which also happens to be nowhere the Mother is about to make her next move when she sees Azriel's piece, which is ironically white and not black like the colour of his shadows, has a gray spot. It's the gray of ash and destruction not the gray of swords and stones.

She looks at face, confusion written in her features to meet an identical expression.

"This is not my doing. Not even when time ceases to exist and we are all that's left in this plane of existence would I resort to this kind of cheating."

The gray begins to burn through the piece, a visible plague infecting it from within.

The Mother and Fate pause.

He stills. "You don't think?"

He couldn't even get the words out, scared that the dark reality would come true if he even spoke of it.

The Mother's features become grave. "There is a dark magic in Prythian, I fear it's now up to them to stop it."

part xi

Note: Hey guys, long time no see. This is actually the longest chapter of why me? that I have written. I wanted to make up for the little break that I took. I felt like I had lost my footing in the story and now I really know where I want it to go. This chapter did take a turn or two or three, but at the heart of this chapter is their relationship and those good moments that we haven't seen that many of. It's the first chapter that I can wholeheartedly say they are being their true selves and it felt really good to get to the point of writing this. I'm sorry I had to leave it on a cliff hanger, I can't be too generous, I have to keep you guys on your toes. Gasp** a dark magic? I guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out what it is. Until next time my darlings!

note note: At this point you all know I have a problem with editing, it just takes so long to write you can't ask me to sit down and basically rewrite it again what am i a professional? (in truth i am just lazy). So thank you to my typo police that catch anything that makes the story slightly illegible I appreciate y'all and all my readers for following along with me <3

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redr0sewrites · 8 months ago

Text

NNN with the ACOTAR men

🥀A/n: surprise...! sorry for not writing for a MONTH ive been doing this. whoops.

🥀Cw: smut, nsfw, vague description of genitals, switch!reader. teasing

🥀Character(s): Eris Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra, Cassian, Rhysand, Azriel x reader (seperate)

🥀divider: @chachachannah <3

Eris Vanserra:

Eris is,,,, lukewarm to the idea to say the least. why on earth would he want to not fuck you for a whole month?

probably takes a lot of pleading to get him to agree ngl, but once he does agree..... HE IS MAKING IT

definitely lasts the whole month, no questions asked

there is no way his resolve is breaking im sorry i just dont see it. no matter how hard you tease him, Eris' only response is a noncommittal "hmm," and a devilish smirk.

he's definitely giving you a taste of your own medicine too- be prepared for teasing from HIM

he'd sneak up behind you and grab your waist, whispering filthy words in your ear about what exactly he's planning to do the minute the month is over... only to pull away and "tut" smugly

he's going to be soo mean if you give up, especially if you challenged him. the teasing is fifteen times worse, and on top of that he's STILL abstaining because even if you're not making it... hes seeing this through!

hes a lovable asshole about it.

"aw, can't even go a whole month without me?"

i feel like towards the end of the month, he'd get irritable and pent up. he has a high-stress life after all, and not getting any release on his frustration can take its toll. Eris would never take it out on you, but expect him to be a little more curt and snippy than usual

once the month is done though? be PREPARED. Eris is a lot more rough and intense when he's pent up, and would be adamant about making up on lost time. you're probably not leaving your shared bedroom for AT LEAST three days. even when you both aren't fucking, he's pressing kisses up and down your body and memorizing everything he didn't get to see throughout the month

i also see him being a lot more passionate at the end of the month. he won't admit it, but he missed getting to fuck you

overall, he'd last, but he would not like it and would make it up to you

"missed me, huh?" Eris coos, sinking into your aching hole. his skin is warm, almosst burning against your own as his tip just kisses that sensitive spot inside you, providing a tantalizing sensation of pleasure.

"f'course i did," you murmur, tightening your legs around his waist. your sat in his lap, completely bare, and his hands travel to cup at your chest.

"oh really?" Eris' gaze is calculating as he presses a nipple between two lithe fingers, rolling the sensitive bud and watching you squirm. "then why did you make me wait so long, darling?"

"mnh- 'was just a game..." you whine, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as Eris slowly begins to thrust in and out. you clench around him tightly with every roll of his hips, and his free hand begins to rub your clit/cock.

"just a game? well, why don't we play a game, hm? lets see how many times i can make you cum," Eris purrs, and you nod fervently. his eyed narrow, and he paused in his ministrations.

"use your words."

you arch your back, pleading for his touch again. "please make me cum, Er..." Eris chuckles at your obedience, before returning to stroking you, increasing his pace as he did so. "whatever my darling mate desires~"

Lucien Vanserra:

Lucien would not like the idea- he'd miss you too much, and i also feel like he has a pretty high libido in and of itself

he'd do it to make you happy, but i really don't see him lasting. Lucien would make it halfway through the month MAX. you tease him once and he folds- he's very whipped for u !!!

probably lasts at least 2 weeks, but after that he really doesn't pay much mind to it

sooooo fun to tease, in my mind he's the type to be unabashedly in LOVE with his partner and isn't afraid of acting flustered when you catch him off guard. he loves seeing you in lingerie and it's probably one of the easiest things you can do to get him to give in

i also can see him teasing you too- he's very flirtatious in nature, and if he wants you, he's pulling all the stops to see if he can make you break- ESPECIALLY if he gives up and you continue trying and to last the whole month

if you don't tease him throughout the month or give him reason to give up, i think that Lucien may have a sliiightly higher chance of making it through the month- but its still not guaranteed. like i said, he has a high libido and even if he doesnt fuck you he'll probably still end up masturbating

when it comes to the end of the month be PREPARED- he is absolutely waking you up at 12:01 because he "wants you so bad". its hard to say no to him when he's being all sweet and compliant, but know that it won't last bc he will very soon turn into a MENACE. if you can still walk, then he's not done

"you're simply divine," Lucien murmurs, almost worshipful as his lips trail up your navel. with each rise and fall of your chest, his sinful mouth travels higher and higher, kissing and sucking over marks he had left from previous rounds in a wanton mix of lust and love. his eyes never leave yours, his gaze reverent and his mechanical eye whirring as he takes you in, observing you as though you might disappear.

"perfect," he whispers breathlessly, crawling above your nude form and supporting himself with a strong arm on either side of your head. your lips meet in a sickeningly sweet kiss, and he rolls his hips tantalizingly against yours.

"mngh- jus' came!" you whine, and Lucien chuckles breathlessly against your lips.

"you can give me one more, hm?"

Rhysand:

i think Rhysand is a bit of a wild card, i think he would be into the idea at first, as he loves a good competition, but after realizing what it fully entails, he'd be pouty about not getting to sleep with you for a whole month. like, do you even love him anymore???

he'd probably make it to at least 3 weeks -> the end of the month

in all seriousness though, i think whether or not he makes it depends on how much you want to make it- if you don't tease him or don't try too hard, then i can see him making it with ease, but if you turn him on? ohhh he's not letting you go without making you both lose.

i see Rhys as kind of a hornball, genuinely it doesn't take much to turn him on, but it's whether or not you do it intentionally that really gets him going. like seeing down the front of your chest on accident? sure, he's horny, but he'll get over it. you intentionally bend down in front of him in a loose shirt, or flash him as a joke? ohhh he needs you now.

PETTIEST TEASE !!!!! you think you can get away with teasing him with no repercussions? think again, because he'll make you come running to HIMMM- he's sending you nudes through the mating bond randomly throughout the day, he's flashing you, he'll wear lingerie under his suit and tell you about it inconspicuously, stuff like that

Rhys is also quite touchy, i genuinely see him being like. clingy. especially when he misses you. what he can't have in sexual intimacy throughout the month, he makes up for in physical intimacy as he is practically almost ALWAYS at your side, and demands a lot more of your attention than usual. not in a bad way, he just loves when you focus on him

when the month is over, he's actually turning into a FREAK. instead of waking you up, he invades your dream, filling it with his own dirty desires so that you wake up aaallll hot n bothered. then and only then does he give in to his own lust and fuck you senseless

you awake with a gasp, feeling a sticky heat between your legs. your cheeks flush as memories of your more than pleasant dream fill your mind, clueing you in to the reason behind your own arousal.

"i see someone had a good dream," a sensual voice purrs in your ear, and you whip around to face the violet-eyed speaker.

"this is your fault, Rhys. i know your behind that.. dream." you grumble, and he lets out a velvety laugh.

"oh, but you'll never prove it~" he teases, but your having none of it. you waste no time in pushing him down against the bed, moving to straddle him and grinding down hard.

"s-someones being forward tonight," Rhysand hisses, hips jolting upwards to meet your impatient humping.

"hah- f'course i am, its been a, a month! i swear, if you don't shut up and fuck me Rhysand i will-" your cut off with a yelp as strong arms find purchase on your waist, flipping you over so that your pinned down beneath your lover.

"be careful what you wish for, darling."

Cassian:

loves the idea of NNN in theory... hates it in execution. Cassian is probably more overconfident in his abilities to abstain from sex than he is actually capable of in reality, so he goes into NNN ready to face it head on- only to CRUMBLE by week two because he just needs to cum.

lasts 2.5 weeks TOPS.

Cassian is always packing some sort of heat, his dick is big big, and he swears he's never noticed it until now. literally everything you do gives him a ridiculous hard on- it's almost embarrassing. its a phenomenon, the more he can't have you, the more he wants you!

Cassian could probably withstand torture, but can't withstand your teasing. just a few lustful innuendos and giving him a look and he's down on his knees practically begging you to let him fuck you, just the tip, he promises he won't even cum.... (lies)

can not take teasing, but he's pretty good at teasing you- although not subtly. not subtly at all. comes up behind you and grabs your hips with two big hands, pressing his boner against your ass like,,,, hey. whispers absolute filth into your ear until he's borderline humping you, and is so caught up in the moment that he can't focus on anything (or anyone) other than you if you don't give in then your better than me fr

at the end of the month Cassian is practically in heat, he's nearly drooling with need as he shakes you awake, ready to beg politely ask you to just fuck him already...

rough hands gently cup your face, and scratchy stubble tickles your cheeks as your lover plants kisses all across your face.

"babe," Cassian murmurs, "its december." you hum, shifting slowly into the realm of consciousness and turning to look at him.

"and?" you tease, feigning innocence as Cassian pouts. "oh, fuck you," he grumbles, nuzzling his head into your neck, and you giggle.

"aw, the big strong illyrian warrior can't last a month without me?"

"f'course i can't. it's you, afterall." you feel Cassian's grin against your neck, and hum thoughtfully. one of your hands trails to his wings, rubbing gently over the sensitive membrane. Cassian lets out a strangled moan, rolling his hips desperately as he begins to grind on your thigh.

"fffuck, hun, jus' like that," he slurs, shuddering as you continue stroking is wings. "you're so perfect f'me," he mumbles, increasing his pace.

"cum for me, Cassian," you mumble, pressing a kiss to his temple and feeling his breath shudder against your neck. suddenly, he pauses his motions, gently pulling your hand from his twitching wings.

"hngh- hah, not yet- wanna be inside you first."

Azriel:

i don't think Azriel would care too heavily about NNN, if you were into it he'd do it but he doesn't feel too strongly about it- however, he is quite competitive, and will take it seriously if you challenge him

Azriel is making it through the month no questions asked. i simply can not see him giving in- he loves you dearly, but nothing will stop him from winning

honestly, your probably more at risk of giving in then him- he's teasing you worse than anything you could ever do to him, only to pull away last minute and watch you squirm with arousal. you're also NOT getting away with teasing Azriel because he WILL get you back ten times worse, that is a promise

you "accidentally" brush over his crotch? what a shame, he's "accidentally" grinding on you. you moan in his ear? he's dirty talking to you in front of your entire friend group. you wear something provocative? he will take his shirt off in front of you. he WILL get you back, and it will be worse than anything u give to him

at this point he's just downright Evil with his teasing- like he's coming into YOUR room, kissing you senseless until your all hot n bothered, and then just leaving!!! Evil!!!!!

definitelt tries to piss you off and get you needy just because he thinks it's attractive- the hornier you are the happier he is !

when the month is over, he's merciless. probably edges you and then overstimulates you for LITERAL hours, still teasing you and trying to piss you off solely because he can. however, he does reach his breaking point eventually, and when he does i DOUBT you will be walking for 2-5 business days because he will be ROUGH

the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as the scent of sex invaded your senses. your own pleasured moans drown out the sound of Azriel's cock squelching in and out of your aching hole with each thrust, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. large, scarred hands find purchase on your hips, and your thighs tremble as he forces you deeper into a mating press. he holds your gaze as one hand begins to toy with your clit/cock, his calculated motions bringing you to the edge yet again.

"uh-huh, y'like that?" Azriel smirks, watching as you writhe and moan. "y'wanna cum this time baby?"

"p-please! please Az, 'm so close," your voice is cracked and embarrassingly whiny, your hips rolling against his with every thrust.

"patience, baby," he murmurs, pressing feather light kisses to the soft skin of your neck.

"you'll get your turn. i've waited a whole month, you'll let me have my fun, hm?"

803 notes · View notes

yourlittlebunnyy · 11 months ago

Text

fawn -tamlin x reader

masterlist

summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. The Cauldon trasforms her into a fairy, and there's only one certain thing in her life: she doesn't belong in the Night Court.

warnings: slightly suggestive, Tamlin (haters step back🙏🤺)

wc: 5,5k

enjoy😉

The Cauldron made you a fairy. A fairy. You scoff at the thought. Nesta has become death itself, Elain a seer. You a stupid, little, useless fairy.

That day, when Fae warriors came into your and your sisters' home and forced you into that place, you never thought you would end up with pearl-colored wings and be able to talk to flowers.

You've always been shy, you've always made yourself small in front of others, and when they threw you into that pile of magic, the Cauldron was generous, in the telling of your sister's lover.

"You went in last. It could have given you nothing, as it could have killed you, but it gave you wings. And flowers, plants, and everything a fairy possesses. You shouldn't pout." But you never asked for that.

When they pulled you out everyone's eyes were on you. How could they not? They had never seen such a thing. Sure, the Cauldron could turn a mortal into a Fae, but a fairy?

You didn't look anyone in the face that day, or the weeks that followed.

"I would like to learn to fly," you once said to Azriel. He replied that he could not teach you, that the fairies belonged to the Court of Spring and that even there they were so rare and secretive that no one knew anything about them.

"But you have wings, too. You just need to teach me how to move them. Please."

Azriel shook his head, a neutral expression on his face.

"I can't. Besides helping you support its weight, your wings are shaped differently from mine, they are smaller and more fragile. I cannot put your life in danger." The authoritative tone makes it clear that the conversation is over. You would have hoped to find a friend in him. Instead, every time you try to talk to him, his gaze has only coldness to offer. Perhaps all his warmth-which doesn't seem much to you at this point-is reserved for Elain.

So, for you, the days go on with no clear meaning. You are not allowed to leave the house, and you can only afford to observe Velaris, such a beautiful city and full of life, from the balcony of the house.

When Feyre returns, you thought for a moment that things would finally change. That she would convince someone to help you get to know your new form, your new being. But you were okay, sure, you were a little confused, but you were living. Elain was much sicker, and all your sisters' priorities belonged to her.

You found comfort in Lucien instead. A charming, red-haired Fae who had lived in the Spring Court for years. That's how you became friends: no one would take you into consideration, and you were desperate for some information, some help. And Lucien fortunately seemed to have answers to your questions.

"I remember you. That day, I mean." You and Lucien are playing chess. It is rare that you talk about that day, but sometimes it happens. You don't care much, talking about it with him has helped you in the past, "Actually, I don't remember much. I remember what Tamlin reminded me of."

Now that's new. Never once had the Fae told her about his High Lord turning his back on her sister. She knew something about it, but she didn't know the whole story.

"Did Tamlin recall to you about that day?" She asks a little incredulously. Lucien nods and tightens his lips, makes a move with a chessman, and a feline smile lights up his face.

"I think...," he freezes for a moment, as if to think carefully about his next words, "he's playing some kind of double game, with Hybern. To get information. He's a good male, only sometimes he struggles to show it."

You feel a twinge in your heart. You don't know why, you should be furious with the man who took your life to give you this. The man who hurt Feyre so deeply. But the way Lucien talks about it, with so much regret....

You are sitting on the armchair in your room, already wearing your nightwear. You have a book in your hands and are completely immersed in reading, so much that you don't hear someone's footsteps outside your door. You gasp when they knock. You place the book in the small coffee table, and you don't bother to fix yourself: Lucien had told you he would come by and deliver a few things before he leaves Velaris for good. You get sad at the thought.

When you open the door you find not the familiar face, but Feyre's.

"Hey." She greets you. You return the greeting and wait for her to tell you why she is here. Although your new life started off on the wrong foot, feeling ignored by your family and useless, everything healed over time. Now the relationship between you and Feyre is closer than ever, Nesta is doing well, Elain is working on it. You have also learned to accept your sister's Fae friends. You even talk to them from time to time.

"I'm sad that Lucien is leaving. Especially for you" You nod, you know there is something else she is not telling you, "You know how much I told you about the High Lords meeting? I'd like you to come too, if you feel like it." You don't hesitate when you say yes. Your sister told you that not everyone had confirmed their attendance, of whom Tamlin. And she did not tell you about what happened with him. But something inside you urges you to go and meet him. It's for my being, you think, I just want answers, that's why I'm so impatient.

That night you struggle to sleep. At dawn you stop tossing and turning in bed and start getting ready, by now you give up: you won't rest that night anyway.

"You look wonderful" Feyre's words make you smile. She takes Azriel's hand, and in the blink of an eye they transmute into the palace of the Court of Dawn.

After greeting the others politely, you realize that Tamlin is not coming. You do not understand the reason for the disappointment you feel. Perhaps it is even better, so you avoid any awkward situation that might arise with your sister and Rhysand.

The meeting begins, and it is just as you start to disassociate yourself from the High Lords' boring talk that Tamlin appears.

He is alone. You don't remember him from that day in the Cauldron. But he is as you always imagined him. His blond hair reaches a little below his shoulders, clearly unkempt. His green eyes remind you of the blossoming plains. His skin tone is a rosy tint, his facial features delicate, almost princely. He is the very definition of spring, you think. He is a beautiful man, and you understand why his sister was once in love with him.

The silence in the air is tense. Tamlin looks at each person and takes his time with each one. And when he gets to you -- you feel his gaze run through your body, but you ignore him. You make a mistake, though. You look up too soon and meet his eyes. And now the thing is clear as day to you, what you feel in the center of your chest.

A bond.

Tamlin is your mate.

His expression turns surprised, his lips tight and his jaw contracted. He doesn't say anything. He moves on to the next person as if he hadn't heard it himself. But you can't contain yourself, and before you can stop it, a gasp escapes your mouth and tears cloud your eyes. You back away, stumbling back in your chair.

"Are you all right?" Feyre asks you, visibly concerned. You do not answer, but it is Beron, High Lord of the Court of Autumn, Tamlin's friend, who answers for you.

"A bond." He says simply, his tone both haughty and amused. Feyre sniffs the air, looks at you. Then she looks at Tamlin. And then back at you again. The look in his eyes... Rhysand says something, but everything around you is a blur.

First the Cauldron made you a useless fairy. Next the Mother punished you by tying you to Tamlin.

You listen to no one, with hurried steps you leave the room. No one follows you. Good, you think, I don't have to explain myself to anyone for a while.

With one exception, someone has followed you. Your body recognizes him before you do, your heart beats wildly, and you could cry from how wrong this all simply is. Your sister was going to marry this man. And she didn't, she ran away because he did something terrible to her, and now it was going to be your turn.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, and Tamlin grabs your arm gently, leading you into a small room. You try to ignore how such a soft touch puts a pleasant twinge in your stomach. No, you would never do that to your sister.

When you enter, no one says anything for a while and you feel his gaze on you, making you blush. He doesn't even know your name, probably.

As if he hears your thoughts, the Fae speaks to you. "Y/n." His serious tone makes you set your eyes on his. This is so wrong, yet looking at your mate feels like the right thing to do.

"How-how do you know my name?"

Tamlin smiles at your words. An expression so different from the one you saw on his face when he first walked in. It fits him, you think, and fear invades your senses because of the things you realize you would do, because of that smile...

"I remember it ... from that day, with the Cauldron..." Your body stiffens, as if remembering who the male in front of you really is. What he did to you. What he has done to your family.

It doesn't matter that he is your mate, you think. Your body may react to his look and touch, but you will not be betrayed by it.

Tamlin probably feels your emotions through the bond, and with a step forward he grabs your arm gently. He needs to touch you, and you don't realize how much you needed him to touch you, too. You welcome his warmth without fighting back.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm not just saying this because you are my mate, " Both of you seem to feel satisfaction when he says such words, the bond in your chest seems to glow and sing "I... had to do terrible things to protect my court. To protect Prythian. It was not in the plan to do such a thing to you."

You think about his words, his eyes shining with sincerity. Lucien has told you things that would explain Tamlin's words, that actually make him a good male.

"Tamlin." To the sound of his name on your lips, the man suppresses a growl. "I... Lucien has been telling me things. And I believe you, and I believe you are good male. But the thing with my sister..."

The look in the Fae's eyes becomes embarrassed, and the emotions you feel through the bond are a mixture of shame and remorse. You don't know what happened between the two, but it must have been really difficult if it causes him such a reaction.

"I regret how I behaved. What I did. I was broken, as was she, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to protect her, and to this day I realize my mistakes."

You study his face. You find nothing but honesty and pure feelings, and he is really putting your instincts to the test. He's so handsome that you want to jump on him, but on the other side of the coin-you still don't know if you can trust him. But he's your mate, and he deserves at least a chance. There's such a battle inside your head.

"I forgive you. For the Cauldron, I mean. I don't know if she has forgiven you, or will but..." Your hand moves to his where he still holds your arm, both of you smiling. "I think you deserve a second chance, Tamlin. And I -- I'd like to try."

The smile he gives you, so genuine that it makes his eyes sparkle with brightness, makes you realize deep down that you made the right choice.

You have not made the right choice.

Neither you nor Tamlin ever returned to the meeting.

When you see your sister and the Inner Circle again, they are all furious with you. As if you chose the bond. You scoff at their looks.

"You disappeared all day with Tamlin. Do you realize that? What was I supposed to think you were doing with your mate, huh? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Rhysand yells at you. Feyre, who does not look angry but grieved, lays a hand on his arm, and after what seems like a brief mental conversation, the High Lord comes out with one last murderous look directed at you. Tears sting your eyes.

"Y/n, he didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that they have so many unfinished business..."

"What about you? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why do you all hate him here? And I'm not talking about the alliance with Hybern."

"None, Y/n. I have none. I have had my revenge. In all sincerity I wish him the best. And I want the best for you, too. So if you-if you've talked to him and he seems to-you seem to like him I won't have anything against you, or him, if you accept the bond." Saying these words seems like a great effort for her, but you appreciate it very much. Mor grimaces.

"No one? That male locked you up - no, he let you drown locked up inside his house. Don't you remember what condition I found you in? Well, in case you don't remember, I'll remind you, Y/n. That male after she was turned into a Fae locked her up in a room, denied her every single space of freedom until she went crazy and we rescued her. So don't-"

"Enough, Mor." Feyre says annoyed.

"You want the best for your sister, and you send her into Tamlin's arms without warning her what he would do to her?"

You are speechless. Tears wet your cheeks.

"But he told me-he told me he regretted it. That he was just as broken as you and that he just wanted to protect you..."

"Those are just words, Y/n. But in actions--what do you think is keeping him from doing the same thing to you? We will have no right to rescue you and bring you back here, because you are in fact his. Think carefully about what you want to do with such an individual." And with these words, Mor leaves the room, leaving you whimpering and afraid. Feyre approaches you and wraps you in a hug.

"Everything will be all right. I know you are afraid, honey. You just try, never stop trying, okay? You don't have to accept the bond right away. Even when you move in with him, if you decide to, you can wait and see if it's worth it. And in case it's not worth it, you can always come back as a free woman."

"I thought you hated him."

"No. Everyone deserves happiness, honey."

Before you can even consider your sister's words, war breaks out. Tamlin takes Hybern's side, but as you expected, it actually turns out to be all a double-cross.

You can feel his emotions through the bond, and you know he can feel yours, too. Sometimes your dreams come together and you are able to talk. If you were uncertain about trying before, now you are convinced.

Once you even woke up in the middle of the night. The bond in your chest overflowing with emotion - lust. Excitement. Pleasure. It didn't take long to realize that your mate was pleasuring himself. Just the thought of it was able to make you damp between your legs, and you discreetly slipped a hand under the sheets and touched yourself fantasizing Tamlin in front of you, rubbing his hard cock with one hand, while his eyes were fixed on yours. You reached your climax in the same moment he did, and you could have sworn you heard his laughter on the other side of the bond.

It was also the first time you tried to touch that bond, pulling on that sort of golden thread that connects the two of you. Tamlin responded by doing the same, and when you went back to sleep, you fell asleep with a smile. That night you dreamed about how your mate taught you how to fly.

The next day you were not able to look anyone in the face, though.

But that was a long time ago.

Now you are not in the comforting warmth of your bed. You are in a tent in a war camp and you are freezing. Your body shakes as you try to rub your hands together. Your wings are sore and have taken on a worrying purple tint, you are almost tempted to go to some healer's tent and ask for an extra blanket, but surely they would be full of injured people, and they would need it much more than you do.

A wave of warmth through the bond radiates through you, and you are grateful to have Tamlin right now, but it doesn't stop there. He touches the bond, like he did all those nights ago, and you find yourself out of your sleeping bag, but not to go to the healers. You meet no one as you head to the Spring Court camps. Your heart pounds - you haven't seen Tamlin since that day at the High Lords meeting. A slight blush covers your cheeks. How will you look that charming male in the face after what you did that night?

You don't know which tent is his, but your body seems to know. The bond takes you straight to him. You can smell him - citrus and spice - even before you see him. You enter without even knocking or warning of your presence, aware that he is able to feel your closeness just as you are able to feel his.

"I've been waiting for you." The male offers you a mesmerizing smile. He is different from how you had seen him. He has cut his hair, and it now reaches just below his ears. He no longer has such dark circles under his eyes and looks decades younger. He is now the living definition of spring more than ever. The mere sight of the man could bring you to your knees.

"Hey." You greet him softly, still a little embarrassed. He notices, because his smile now turns feline. You're my little prey and I want to play with you, he seems to say. Only now do you notice a pungent note in his scent - blood. Your worry fills the bond. Yet you have felt no pain through it lately.

He seems to sense the direction of your thoughts, because he shifts his gaze from your figure to his chest. That's where he bleeds. He has been wounded in the chest.

"Tamlin... You're bleeding." He nods, then offers you a reassuring look.

"Oh, don't worry, it's just a little scratch. You, on the other hand, looked very cold earlier." He cannot hide his concern.

"It's already better here, much warmer." You still feel the tips of your wings sore, though.

"To get to such a situation you must have been freezing for a long time, Y/n. Didn't they teach you how to take care of your wings in this situation?"

"Not really-I tried to ask, but I never got an answer." The anger on his face is impossible to mask. He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"'Brute bastards." He hisses through his teeth. You feel in awe at his words; they are still your sisters' family.

"Tamlin..."

"No, Y/n. I'm fine, but you...fairy wings are different from Illyrian wings. They should have done some fucking research. You could have lost them, and do you know how painful that is? You could still be losing them." He finally realizes, and jerks around to get his blanket from his sleeping bag. It's thick and woolen, and as he wraps it around you, it smells of him in the best way.

"You're taking care of me." He looks at you surprised.

"Of course I'm taking care of you, Y/n."

"I want to take care of you, too. These days I've treated the cuts of the wounded, I can help you." Tamlin lets out a low growl, then shakes his head. He sits you down on his sleeping bag and positions himself next to you. Shoulder to shoulder. Even this small contact, divided by several layers of fabric, is capable of making your heart race.

"Please, mate. Let me take care of you." Tamlin sighs, then murmurs an unenthusiastic consent. You get up with the blanket still tangled around you, leave the tent without a word, and return a few minutes later with gauze, alcohol, and a clean bandage. You freeze in the doorway when you realize the man has taken off his shirt.

A shirtless male body was no stranger to you. You had often accompanied your sisters to see their males working out. You had gotten to appreciate the muscles. But Tamlin... seeing your semi-nude mate activates something in you, something similar to that night when you came with his name on your lips. You blush and approach slowly, he still has his back to you, as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Didn't they tell you it's rude to stare?" You know he's only joking, yet you still get embarrassed. Yes, you are used to a shirtless male. But to a shirtless male flirting with you? Absolutely not.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, but the thing that cools your blood is the wound you see ripping through his chest as he turns around. You look at him surprised, anguish and disquiet flow freely through the bond.

"It's nothing, Y/n. I'll live." You find it ironic how he is the injured one, yet you are the one being comforted. You approach in silence, your eyes fixed on the injury, and let him rest his back on the sleeping bag. You kneel beside him, the blanket now forgotten on the ground, and soak the gauze with alcohol.

"Put the blanket back on, Y/n. It's cold." You ignore him, focused on wetting every last millimeter of the fabric. Tamlin is about to get up, but you place a hand on his chest, blocking him. The contact with his warm skin makes your cheeks warm, but the blood on his chest freezes them.

"What is it?"

"The blanket. Put it on."

"No, I'll be uncomfortable while I medicate you." Tamlin growls when you answer him. You snort a laugh, protective males. "Do you find my worry funny, fawn?"

"Fawn?" You startle at the nickname.

"Don't change the subject, put it on."

"But I'm uncomfortable, Tam."

"Then sit on my lap and wrap it around both of us." You don't let him tell you twice. You do as he says and start dressing his wound, which reeks of Faebane. That's why it didn't heal. You notice Tamlin clenching his teeth from the burning and as if on instinct, you reach down to kiss his chest above the wound. At the level of his heart. You both smile, but do not utter a word. When you finish bandaging his cut, you give him another gentle kiss, this time over the bandage.

"So you heal sooner and feel better." You smile at him.

"You are such a little fairy."

"Is that an insult?"

"No, fawn, how could I ever."

You don't converse much longer, the fatigue of battle preventing you from doing so. You get off his lap and lie down beside him on top of the sleeping bag. You remove the blanket and he seems to inspect your wings. A satisfied expression appears on his face and without needing a word, you remove the blanket and use it to cover yourselves. Just five minutes, you think, then I go back to my tent or I'll risk worrying my sisters.

Five minutes turns into the whole night.

When you wake up, Tamlin is not there. You are under the sleeping bag, though. You smile at the thought. His side is cold, and you wonder how long you slept for. You get up and stretch, and take some time to poke around his tent, something you didn't do the night before. There isn't much there, but you were expecting it. You find a blanket with a note.

Take care of your wings.

You smile like a little girl under her Christmas tree. You leave the blanket there, but take his instead. It smells like him.

A little alarm bell rings in your head. Oh, God. Your sisters must be worried sick. You quickly grab your new blanket and run through the camps until you get to your tent. God, why did they put the Night Court and the Spring Court at opposite ends? It's an almost 10-minute walk.

You enter your tent panting where you find a very, very worried Feyre.

"Are you crazy! Where have you been!" She shouts without even looking at you. But then she does. She smells Tamlin's familiar scent on you. His blanket in your hands.

"Feyre...I can explain, I swear-" She turns a mocking smile on you.

"Ooookay. Maybe next time you warn before you leave. You gave us a scare!" She says without even time for you to respond, leaving you standing in the middle of your tent like a fool.

You and Tamlin have a kind of unwritten agreement. In the evening he pulls the bond slightly and you join him in his tent. The Inner Circle knows this, but says nothing about it. It's better that way. Once Nesta even came to call you, making Tamlin chuckle and you die of embarrassment.

He never tried to do anything more than cuddle you. And you are fine with that. You don't want your first time with your mate to be in a war camp, on a sleeping bag, with the screams of the wounded in the background. One time he even took you to the top of a hill and you stayed and watched the stars until dawn, then he had to go back to fighting, and you had to go back to helping the healers.

You are afraid to admit it to yourself, but you are falling in love with that wonderful man. And you are afraid of not knowing what will happen once the war is over.

The fear of not knowing doesn't last long, though. Because the war is over. Hybern has died by the hands of your sisters, and Rhys has even died and risen again. You meet Tamlin as the camps are being shown.

"Hey, fawn." He says, smiling at you.

"Hey, Tam." You return his smile, but a motion of sadness contorts your lips into a grimace. Tears are quick to stream down your face. You don't want to cry in front of everyone. Tamlin seems to understand this, because he grabs your arm and within moments you are on the hill where he took you to see the stars a few nights ago.

"It's nothing, it's just ... I don't want us to be apart." Tamlin can swear he feels his heart break and recompose itself at the same time at your words, at your tone. At the emotions you are sharing with him.

"Neither do I, y/n. Neither do I."

Tamlin kisses you. It's sudden and unexpected. It is not a real kiss: he simply lays his lips on yours. His hands caress your face gently. After a few moments, you relax and respond to the kiss with just as much sweetness. Just as much love.

"Come home with me, Y/n. Come stay with me at the Spring Court." You think about his words. The words of the male you are in love with, your mate. Your heart tightens with happiness at those words. You will think of your sisters later: for now you just want to be in Tamlin's arms.

"Yes."

Communicating this to Feyre was easier than expected, and since you had nothing significant in Velaris, you went straight home with Tamlin.

The Spring Court is... beautiful, breath-taking even. You can't hide the warmth in your chest, the feeling of home it communicates. And seeing your mate in the place where he belongs enhances the experience.

It is warmer than the dry cold of the camps, and you begin to sweat under the layers of heavy clothing. Tamlin notices, and invites you to follow him inside his palace until you reach a bedroom.

You take time to look around. The house seems full of life, smells of flowers and nature, and glows with gold. It is different from what you expected: Rhysand had mentioned, years ago, that he had paid a visit to the High Lord of the Spring Court, and found him in a miserable condition. And like him, so was his house. But to you that sounds like a far definition from reality.

The room he takes you to is beautiful. It is very different from the typical ones in the Night Court. There the wood is dark, the floors are rough, and everything looks like it's been through a battle. They're not ugly, they're just - gloomy.

While the Court of Spring is full of light and warm colors. The bed frame is made of a light, delicate wood and is carved with flowers and leaves. The room does not have much besides the well-prepared bed. There is a closet that echoes the pattern of the headboard, and Tamlin heads straight there.

He opens it, revealing a surprising amount of clothing.

"You can choose whatever you like, I'll wait outside." He smiles at you and you smile back.

You leave the room wearing a new dress. It is the one you liked most. It makes you feel like a fairy, but positively. It is definitely better than what you wear in the Court of Night. The fabric is softer, the pinkish white of the skirt is a color you've never seen before but already love. Tamlin's face lights up as soon as he sees you.

"You look beautiful in my Court clothes, Y/n." Your cheeks take on a rosy hue as you whisper a vague thanks. He holds out his hand to you and you immediately take it. Without a word, he begins to drag you through the corridors you admire all the way to outside. Into the gardens.

As soon as your eyes meet such beauty ... your breath catches in your throat. Your mind immediately wanders to your sister, Elain. How she would love it.

Your mate looks at you smugly.

"Do you like it?" You can do nothing but nod. Tears well up in your eyes at the relief you feel, and you realize you have lifted a burden, the opression of the Night Court.

The words come out of your mouth before you can even think them, let alone stop them, "I want to accept the bond."

Tamlin looks surprised. "What?"

"I-obviously if you want to. But-"

Your mate interrupts by kissing you. You are surprised the first few moments, but you quickly recover, responding to the kiss. The bond in the center of your chest seems to sing with joy.

"Now?" He asks when he pulls away from your lips, a gentle blush covers his cheeks and he is short of breath. He has never looked so good. You nod.

"A little further on there are some fruit trees. If you want we can go there."

You nod, and he takes you by the hand, fingers interlocked with yours, and once again leads you to some fruit trees. You take the opportunity to admire the beauty of his court again. Which will now become yours as well.

You stop in front of a loquat tree. In a comforting silence you turn to pick a fruit. You have nothing with you, and you struggle a little to peel it. You split it in half and offer it directly in front of his lips. He bites into the loquat with his eyes on yours. He finishes the whole fruit.

The bond seems to rejoice and shine and seems to unite your two souls even more than before. His gaze communicates to you that you have a long day ahead. A long night, too.

He kisses you fervently, his hands gripping your hips making you moan in the kiss. You didn't expect to feel this way. Sure, your sisters told you something about the frenzy ... but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The intensity of what you feel is almost overwhelming.

You pull away from the kiss with a heavy breath. Tamlin's predatory gaze, the lust in the look, is impossible to mask.

"Fawn... tell me no now, or I won't be able to stop later." You don't even think about saying no. You desire him as you have never desired anyone. You want to feel him all over.

"Please, Tamlin. I want to be yours."

You spend all afternoon making love on the fields, careless of who might see you. You return only when it begins to get dark. A huge smile on your face.

You made the right choice.

@rcarbo1

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oristian · 8 months ago

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☕️🎩 for the Lucien Week ask game!

☕️ What do you think would be Lucien’s go-to coffee order?

I can see him either being a hot black coffee drinker, or an iced chai with extra cinnamon on top! The stronger the brew, the better!

🎩 Lucien the Gentleman, or Lucien the Rake? Which version of our fox-boy do you prefer?

It depends on what fanfiction I’m reading, but I love Lucien as a gentleman. Hearing him refer to Elain as “lady” has yet to leave my mind. (Though, I am excited for her to get to experience rake/shameless flirt Lucien in their book 🙈)

#lucien week ask game #lucien week #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elucien

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sapphiresandgold · 8 months ago

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🦹☕️ 🎵

Hopefully these aren’t answered yet!

Haha, nope, those are all new <3 thank you

🦹 || What would be Lucien’s go-to Halloween costume?

He would be really classy in his Halloween costumes, always doing something fancy, but he would remember the times when his big brother took him trick'n'treating as a kid and he used to dress up as a pirate, so as an adult he perfected the look over the years.

☕️ || What do you think would be Lucien’s go-to coffee order?

He needs a big coffee considering all the shit he has to endure, so it's a venti for him and he usually adds a bit of cinnamon, because it kinda feels like home.

🎵 || Share a song that reminds you of Lucien!

It might be an obvious choice but I think it's very fitting to Lucien as a person:

Believer by Imagine Dragons

#lucien week ask game #ask game #lucien vanserra

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oceansblvds · 3 months ago

Text

tunnel vision — four ; coriolanus snow

MASTERLIST

pairing ; king!coriolanus snow x debutante!reader

words ; 1.9k

about ; in the glittering world of panem high society, you were raised to be perfect — the prized daughter of a powerful family. your family was prepared to make the match of the season. but when king coriolanus snow arrives unexpectedly, announcing his intention to marry, everything changes.

warning(s) ; eventual smut, angst, courting (bridgerton style), eventual fluff.

chapter specifics: kissing, THOUGHTS of fingering, talk of marriage. angst. drama. arguing.

authors note ; i decided to split up this chapter to release one tn . . . cause im !!!!!!!!!!!!! okok go read now.

The silverware chimed delicately against porcelain. The low murmur of polite conversation floated about the room through the soft shimmer of candlelight, punctuated by soft laughter and the occasional clink of crystal glasses. Set with delicate threaded linens and silk, the table was decorated with flickering candelabras that made everything feel hazy and warm. There was a thick smell of perfume from your mother on the other side of the room and from the servants as they came and went with different plates for dinner.

Your parents were adamant about inviting Coriolanus to dinner, that it was almost abysmal that they had not done so earlier. You knew that it was all a ploy for Lucien and your father to try and pry into Coriolanus’ mind about what he was doing and if he was determined to properly court you or ask for your hand. But despite everything, you were excited the entire day that the King would be making an appearance. When he arrived, he brought flowers for your mother, he even talked with your younger brothers. He talked perfectly with your father about District One, like he had studied for tonight. Knowing him, he probably did.

Stupidly perfect.

You sat at the long table, your back perfectly straight, our fork moving mechanically to lift tiny amounts of food into your mouth. Though you barely tasted them. You sat right next to Coriolanus, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body. When he shifted, his knee brushed yours beneath the table.

Once.

And then twice.

Your heart gave a humiliating stutter every single time that it happened.

You had tried not to think about the last afternoon that you had seen him, almost a week ago at this point. You tried. Tried not to think about how he took your finger so brazenly into his mouth like it was second nature to him, or how his tongue had brushed over your skin, drawing away the blood like it somehow belonged to him.

And the worst part of it was that you could tell that he knew what you were thinking about, like he could somehow read your mind. He was watching you, not in the polite Capitol way where men watched their future wives, adoration and kindness. No, he watched you like you were a secret that he had already begun to unravel. Like you were something that he had to make as much of a mess of in order to pick up the pieces for his own collection. As the conversation around you drifted to something about political trade routes that your father was trying to secure, and your mothers relentless gossip about someone’s second cousin’s scandal, you felt a brush of something at your knee.

His leg. For the third time.

You were going to go crazy, you were sure of it.

You turned your face back towards your plate, hiding your burning cheeks from the King. Your mother was laughing now, telling some story about the duchess who had embarrassed herself at last season’s games. Your father nodded along, your little brothers flicking mashed potatoes towards each other at the very far end of the table.

By the time the last course was cleared, your nerves felt stretched thin. You rose from your seat as the butler began to clear the table completely. The men were invited to enjoy some brandy in the library; the ladies would retire to the parlor for tea and some music. You barely heard the hum of conversation from the men as you followed your mother to the parlor, the walls felt as though they were closing in towards you.

You were suffocating.

The fire, the heavy scent of tea, the rustles of your mothers fans, it pressed into you, too much after the nearness of him. You needed air, you needed space. You murmured some excuse about a headache to your mother, slipping through the side doors into the wide marble hallway that led toward the back of the house. Your footsteps echoed as you moved, almost running, heart pounding. Outside, you needed to be outside with the fresh air.

The terrace doors were cracked to let in some air, and you easily slipped through them, your skirts rustling as you continued on your path. The night met you like a cooling balm, clearing your mind the further you walked. Above, the stars burned faintly, twinkling in the darkness. The gardens stretched out before you and the breeze caught the hem of your gown. You inhaled deeply. At least no one would see you now, no one could see the fire burning under your skin just begging to crawl out. You moved to the edge of the terrace before the paths split off, resting your hands lightly on the stone, letting your head fall back. Eyes closed, gathering yourself.

It was terribly foolish to think you could escape him.

You had gotten so used to him being there that you felt him before you heard him.

You didn’t turn around, you truly didn’t need to. You just knew it was him.

“You always follow me,” you said, your voice sharp.

Silence.

You turned fast, your dress whispering around your ankles and legs.

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, voice low in a tremble you didn’t even know was in your character to do so. “Why are you doing this? You sit next to me, watch me like you already own me. You touch me like . . . how a debutante isn’t supposed to be touched!”

His jaw tensed just barely.

“What exactly do you gain from this? From me? I’ve tried to be quiet, tried to be good. I’ve smiled at all the right moments, pretending that you weren’t — weren’t —”

“Weren’t what?” he asked softly, stepping closer. You countered by stepping back into the stone railing.

“Messing with me!” you snapped. The word echoed off the terrace stone, loud and sharp. “Playing your little Capitol mind games, toying with me like I’m someone from the Districts. You sit there all composed, all knowing.”

“I didn’t —”

“Oh please,” you cut him off, almost laughing. “Don’t insult me with lies. Do you think I don’t see it? One minute you’re handing me a rose like a perfect King and then next you’re putting your mouth on me like I’m already yours!”

His face tightened, like he was an inch from cracking. “You didn’t pull away,” he stated, like the fact that it was, voice cutting impossibly low.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, so it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself?” You shot back, taking a step toward him. “Is that how it works now? You prowl around me, you touch me without my explicit permission, you put your filthy mouth on me, and I’m to blame for not screaming?”

“You didn’t want to scream,” he said, matching your fury.

You scoffed. “You think that you know what I want?”

“I know you. I know how you tremble when I touch you, how you flush every time I catch your gaze, how you stare at my mouth when you think I won’t notice.”

You couldn’t help but gasp, your eyes widening that he would say it so . . . plainly. You hated the brutal honesty, how naked he made you feel with just his words. “You’re sick,” you said. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

That finally did it.

Coriolanus’ eyes darkened, not with hurt, but with something hot, furious, and possessive. He took a step toward you, like the leash keeping you from him finally had snapped. His hand caught your wrist in a split second, his fingertips burning into your skin permanently so you would never forget it. “I know you better than anyone ever will. Better than your perfect family, better than all of the little boys your parents paraded in front of you since you were a mere child. You think they see you? They see a dowry, a perfect face to breed a better line.”

You blinked.

“You were made for something greater. You were made for me.”

Your other hand shot out before you thought too much about it, shoving at his chest to no avail. You struggled against his grip, despite how hot he made you feel being this close to you. “Let me go,” you hissed.

For a heartbeat, he just stared at you. Coriolanus’ jaw was clenched so tight that it looked like it hurt. And then, like nothing had happened, he let you go. Or maybe you let yourself go. This stupid life that your parents had crafted for you, one where you were perfect. You let it all go for a moment, alone, in this garden where no one would see you. You could pretend this never happened.

Because in the next breath, you were crashing into one another, mouths molding together in a kiss that was brutal. His hands found your waist, yanking you flush against him like he had lost all semblance of his patience. Your fingers curled into the front of his vest, like you hated him despite how far from the truth it really was. It wasn’t gentle or sweet. It wasn’t like the way that your mother described what your first kiss should be like. At the altar of your wedding, in front of your whole family and his, sealing a love match. It was angry. Like you were cursing one another. His mouth moved against yours that made your knees go weak, gasping into his mouth that he quickly swallowed, like the sound fed him, like he had been starving for such a thing.

You barely noticed the way his hands moved, one sliding up to grasp against your hair, the other’s bold fingers slipping over the curve of your hips, roaming downward and skimming dangerously close to the hem of your skirts as he bunched them up. Fingertips brushed along the top of your thigh and your breath hitched hard, not in protest, but in want.

“Coriolanus —” You whispered against his mouth, half a plea, another a warning.

“I know,” he muttered. “Just a moment . . . a little more.” His hand slipped higher, fingertips ghosting over the crease between your thigh and hip bone —

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The voice ripped through the air like you had been shot with an arrow to the heart.

You broke apart from him, stumbling back. Your skirts fell back into place, your breath coming in short bursts. You pressed a hand against your mouth, as if you could somehow shove the moment back inside of you, hide it from anyone to see, ever.

Lucien stormed forward. Not at you. At him.

“You filthy bastard,” he growled.

“Lucien! Please, don’t. Stop.”

He rounded onto you so fast it made you flinch. “Stop?” he hissed. “You want me to stop after I find you pinned against the terrace with his hands halfway under your skirts?” You opened your mouth to try and deny it, to try and explain something, though Lucien was far from finished. “You have ruined yourself! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? If anyone, a servant, a lord in the ton, anyone saw you?”

The terrace door slammed open, your mother and father spilling from it. Your mother looked at you, and then him, and understood completely.

“Oh gods,” she gasped. “What did you do?”

“She’s been compromised,” Lucien explained.

Your mother gave a strangled sob, your father cursing under his breath, unsure of what to do, especially with it being the King of Panem.

And then Lucien turned to Coriolanus. “You will marry her,” he said. Low and absolute. “You will marry her tonight.”

taglist: @ib525 @m-ichelles-world @coryosnows @ryomensgirll @mixedfandxms

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas #the hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus fic #coriolanus fanfiction

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matrixsss · 8 months ago

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📖😈

Anony YOU GET BOOP NOW, it is an invisible boop for u!

📖 || Share your favorite Lucien quote! Think what you want but its deffo; 'If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too?' BECAUSE YES I WOULD DO IT WITHOUT A MOON ON A STRING.

😈 || What is the worst quality that Lucien shares with you? LMAO Lucien is perfect in every possible way so none, because he is perfection kay?

#booping you nonny #thank #lucien week ask game #u ask i gib u boop #one time offer only today #i love lucien

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manicmanuscription · 3 months ago

Text

A Few Beginnings

PolySJM Week: Day Six

Prompt: Courage

Pairings: Feysand / Reader (+ Lucien + Inner Circle at the end.)

Summary: Being mated to the High Lord and Lady is intimidating, you either have to let them go or take a leap of faith.

Word Count: 1285

Tags: self sabotaging-reader, anxiety, fluff, slight angst.

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist

The warm summer wind of Velaris brushed the hair away from my shaking form.

I was terrified for how this day was going to go to say the least. I’d spent the last few weeks holed up in my apartment letting my anxious mind run every possible worst case scenario. I’d even thought about packing my bags and simply leaving the night court.

Ophelia had yelled at me when I’d told her that.

It was just….scary.

The mating bond snapped between me and The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court a few weeks ago on a random wednesday. I was visiting my friend’s shop in The Rainbow and quite literally bumped into my High Lady. I’d apologized of course and the second those eyes met mine it was like the air itself seemed to change, the golden thread clicking into place so violently in my chest it knocked the breath out of me. My High Lord had appeared a few moments later and it had happened again.

My friend had just kept talking to me as if my entire world hadn’t just shattered, just shifted so profoundly there would never be going back.

Mates. I had mates.

Plural.

The rest of that day was a blur but they ended up courting me for a few weeks until…

I just got scared, so I pulled away. I ran. They weren’t just rulers of a whole country but one of the most powerful ones. They were kind, well-spoken, funny, and extremely gorgeous. The list goes on and on.

I was just…me.

They intimidated me, with their boldness, with their generosity. I shouldn’t be falling so fast and hard but I was. What was my place within their home? Their family? Hell even their Court?

The intensity of my feelings scared me, they already had each other and if they one day woke up and realized it was a mistake to bring me into their relationship. Gods I would never survive it.

They had given me the space I requested, occasional brushes against my mental shields just to check in or a bouquet sent to the house. They were already so close, they’d been together for years they even had a child together. They survived under the mountain together, a war, even death itself.

How was I supposed to fit in that history? I refused to be an option, a game to somehow make them stronger not with something so cherished and rare.

I knew I was spinning out, my head my biggest enemy and Ophelia had sat with me for days while I got myself sorted.

Until she got sick of my self sabotaging behaviors, stood up from my sofa and yelled at me for forty five minutes straight, stormed out to her apartment across the hall and came back five minutes later all riled up once again.

“Why do you never let yourself have something good, this could be one of the best things to ever happen to you!”

“But-”

“Don’t interrupt me. You don’t know if you don’t try, I'm not in charge of you or your life but I just..stop letting your fears control you. You're too good for that.”

So now I am here, three and a half weeks later from my initial request for space. I’d sent them a letter asking to meet and their response was almost immediate. Their scent had faintly stuck to the page, making me lightheaded. The bond thrumming ever so softly.

I’d gotten lost in my thoughts not even noticing I had reached the restaurant until the familiar cobblestone paved into dark bricks. Rita’s was closed and a few of the employee’s still setting up for the night of debauchery ahead of Velaris but she had left the door unlocked as a favor to Rhysand. I slipped inside the back entrance and headed to the main floor.

I’d suggested Rita’s as neutral ground. Feyre had mentioned in passing that she’d grown to love this place and it was close enough to my sister’s house in case anything went wrong.

And there they were, eyes shifting over the floor as if searching until they landed on me. Something akin to hope in their gazes and my heart started beating a hundred miles per minute. The bond absolutely glowing in my chest at being the center of their attention.

Each step I took closer I repeated Ophelia’s words in my head like a mantra.

You don’t know if you don’t try.

I smiled as I reached the table, pulling out a chair and getting myself sorted.You don’t know if you don’t try. I don’t know how but I finally found the strength to look them in their eyes. Cauldron they were absolutely stunning.

I can do this. I can try, I can allow myself to be safe, to be loved, to be open.

“Hi.” I whispered.

“Hello Darling.” Rhysand’s deep voice rolled over me, something primal awakening at the sound. Feyre’s voice was the opposite, high and alluring but still having the same effect, my heart skipping a beat. “You look lovely.”

I took a deep breath letting all my anxiety bleed into the floor. I felt safe in their presence and that terrified me. Terrified it wouldn’t last or be ripped away from me like everything else.

You don’t know if you don’t try.

“Thank you,” I said with a blush, letting hope bloom in my chest, letting the bond pull me exactly where I’d always belonged, letting myself try.

————————

Rhysand had barely shut the door behind him, not even had a chance to take his shoes off or kiss his son until the faces of his Inner Circle appeared in front of him. Gathering at the stairs like lost puppies.

Feyre would have laughed if it weren’t such a serious situation. Her mind reeling from their conversion with you. She was still smiling even though they’d long left Rita’s, gods you were perfect.

Her family wasn’t the type to mope, yet they all looked like they weren’t breathing.

“How was it?” Nesta asked a bit harshly, her firm voice unwavering yet Feyre saw the slight tremble in her hands, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder, unwillingly to look his High Lord and Lady in the eye as if whatever they had to say could somehow be avoided.

“Excellent.” Feyre beamed sharing a knowing look with her mate, she knew he was feeling just as victorious as she was, when you first asked for space they’d all spiraled slightly.

Her family seemed to take a collective intake of air. Their shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

“Can we meet her?” Azriel whispered, his shadows swirling around his shoulders ever so erratically. If Rhysand hadn’t known the male for a few hundred years he wouldn't be able to read his anxiety.

“Soon.” The High Lord spoke and Lucien and Cassian protested.

“It’s not everyday that your mated to nine people, we’re going slow.” Rhysand commanded, the order settling into the very stone of the house.

“Especially since you idiots almost had her running the second you met her.” Amren snorted under breath and Mor giggled.

Gods Rhysand prayed you wouldn’t run when you found out, he’d heard a stray thought or two from you and it nearly sent him winnowing to your apartment and taking you far far away, the mating bond screaming at him to do something.

“Tell us how it went.”

And they did, settling into one of the many living rooms with a few bottles of wine, the Inner Circle hanging off their every word.

a/n: I was just going to do feysand x reader because who doesn't love feysand but imagining the entire IC being mated to one female and being awkwardly obsessed weirdos was tooooooo good thank you for reading ily

#poly acotar #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d6 #polyweek #feysand x reader #lucien x reader #inner circle x reader #acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #angst #fluff #inner circle acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar

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