#tw acotar

[brainwormsoop]

sorry for just... all of this

but acotar has serious sold to one direction energy

[peachesofteal]

tw 18+ dubcon, breeding kink, brief daddy kink, baby trapping-ish - aka the whole purpose of the mating bond

Azriel who slips you a fertility tonic so he can give you a baby.

It starts as a fantasy.

He spends too much time watching you help with Nyx. Plays his dutiful uncle part, but all he's really focused on is how the baby sits so perfectly in your arms, how he's supported so easily by your hips.

How would you look, with his child cradled against your chest? How would you look, round with his baby?

It's maddening. Filling his dreams with ideas about a family of his own, a family with you. You who he loves beyond belief, you who he would die for, over and over again. You, who has become the reason he smiles, the reason he stands in the sun, the reason he looks forward to the future with hope, instead of looking back at the past with anger. You've changed him.

The bond isn't enough anymore, he craves it all. Needs to plant himself inside your womb until you're carrying a piece of him, but it likes that. It wants it, as much as he does, glows in his chest when he imagines it, purrs at the idea with satisfaction.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His cock swells when he thinks about fucking you deep, spilling inside of you again and again until it takes, giving you a piece of himself. Drives him insane, thinking about breeding you, putting his baby inside of you. Turns him inside out.

The shadows don't help. They find the tonic in Dawn Court and pull the emerald green glass bottle from a shelf, depositing it in his office. Thick like syrup, blood red like a candy apple, but completely void of scent. Helpful.

"What do you think about having a baby?" He breathes into your neck one night, still arched overtop of you, lips dragging along your jaw. You giggle. He swears it's the sweetest sound.

"I don't know, kind of soon, don't you think?" A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead, and you twist your fingers in it. "I know Madja said there'd be nothing to worry about but still... we've only been mated a few years, right?" He nips at your skin, slides his nose along yours.

"Right."

What started as a fantasy evolves into a plan. Wicked, and wild, it's all consuming, a parasite in his blood slowly taking over his body until he's disease ridden, obsessed.

"More?" He's perched on a stool, knees spread to accommodate where you stand between his knees, looking up at him with a lazy smile. You've already finished your first glass, the glass, the one with the tonic, and he's pleased to see you drank every drop.

"One more, I think." He taps your chin, tucks his fingers beneath it and tilts your face towards his before pressing his mouth against yours in a long kiss. When you pull away, you have that look in your eye. "Want to go home early?"

Yes.

He's high. Wound up, crazed. You're laid out on the bed, lax on your side, reaching for him. "Come here," you whine, wiggling your fingers, and he grips them before rolling you onto your back and pinning that wrist above your head.

"I love you," he sucks a mark against your collarbone, traces and plucks your nipple, enjoying your pants, the restless jolt of your hips.

"Az," you huff, and he smiles into your skin.

"Impatient." He releases his hold, teases down your belly to where you're already wet for him, soaked, and slips through your folds to find your clit, swollen, and waiting. Wanting. "So wet," there’s nectar between your legs, and he’s thirsty for it. Not tonight. Your clit throbs under his touch, back arching, tits pressing into his chest, "you're dripping."

"Yeah, ah- please," you paw at his shoulders and he pushes you down, lays you flat before grabbing your knees and flexing them towards your chest, your thighs framing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

"Keep them there." He warns. Your fingers dig into your flesh, and he taps the head of his cock against your clit, enjoying the way your hole twitches. "Look at you," he's lost in it already, stroking himself, slowly fucking the tip in and out, muscles coiled, ready to strike. It's a drug. You're a drug. His elixir of life, his faerie wine. The high of battle, the satisfaction of success, of killing. He's drunk on you, every day.

"Azriel," you hiss. His girl never likes to be kept waiting. He grins-

and then slams home.

"Fuck!" you scream it, head thrown back, abandoning the hold on your legs to fist the sheets. He pulls your ankles tall, and leans forward. Your eyes are as big as the moon, mouth open wide, perfect. Ready. Ripe.

"I know, I know," he soothes you, kisses you, aware that the pressure of his body over yours only shoves his cock harder against your cervix, and you gasp, pussy fluttering, warm and wet, better than a dream. He finds your clit, his touch turning you languid, helping you adjust to each stroke, "does that feel good, love? Nice and deep?" He catches your lip between his teeth, and then rests his forehead against yours.

"More," You twist in his grip, trying to move, and he swats your ass.

"Be good for me." Be good, be good-

be good for daddy so he can give you a baby, be good so he can plug you up, make it take-

"Yes..." You moan and your pussy quivers, already trying to suck him deeper, trying to pull him in. Your body knows what it wants, the bond knows what it wants, even though your mind isn't there yet.

You writhe, shudder. You're going to come soon.

He slows down, drags his cock almost all the way out, enjoying the way you pout, brows furrowed, before sliding back in, again and again, long strokes that drive you crazy, still flicking your clit. "I love you so much, pretty girl, need to fill you up."

"Yeah, p-please." You're chasing your orgasm, tightening like a fucking vice, trying to strangle him, hold him in, and he closes his eyes, relishing it, wishing he could die in it.

"Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel you." Your breath hitches and he fucks you harder, slamming his hips against yours, shoving his cock so deep he wonders if it's in your belly, and your eyes roll back, legs locking into planks, orgasm rocketing through you so violently you cry out.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, ah-"

"There it is," there's no stopping now, fucking you through the gush, the clench, "That's it, come for me," he coos, innocent poison, "good girl, such a good girl." His own end is building, fire in his blood, raw power surging up through his wings as they snap wide, and your toes curl as you tremble, pussy still squeezing, pulsing around his cock. "Stay still for me, gonna give you my cum- fuck- fuck it nice and deep." You mewl, half delirious, and he steadies himself before plunging as far as he can, exploding, shattering, flooding you with it all, his hopes, his wickedness, his dreams. His vision goes white, a shock radiating up through his toes, entire body rigid, and locked in, your pussy drenched with him. The bond sings for the true fulfillment of its purpose, the creation of children. It all comes together, him, you, the stars, the darkness, to give him what he wants, what he craves-

his baby inside you.

He tucks his fingers into your pussy as you fall asleep, shushing you back under easily when you blink at him in a daze. "Again?"

"In a bit." He kisses your temple. "Close your eyes sweet girl, you'll need your strength."

[dawneternal]

And Yesterday You Were Here With Me

you were bigger than the whole sky / you were more than just a short time

✦ Azriel x Reader. Platonic Cassian x Reader, Nesta being a good friend.

✦ this one is a bit vulnerable to share. It's definitely something I wrote to process some of my own grief. (Hopefully it's not disrespectful to post this the day after mother's day) Take care of yourself and don't read if it will trigger you 💛

✦ Warnings: miscarriage, description of miscarriage/blood, grief and loss

✦ Read on AO3

You sit frozen, staring down at the crimson marbling the water in the toilet, struggling to breathe properly.

It was only last night that you had put the pieces together. Your late cycle, nausea, and fatigue. The strange gut feeling that something was off, but not in a bad way. In a new way - a different way. You immediately planned to try and see a healer here in the Day Court while on your mission with Cassian. That way you could return to Night and tell Azriel right away. You could barely sleep, excitement and nervousness filling every inch of your being as you tried to think up a clever or funny way to tell your mate.

And now all of those hopes and plans had crumbled, slipping through your fingers before you could catch them. Now, sitting on the toilet and feeling the cramps crashing through your body, you understood how quickly your heart had filled with love for this little possibility.

Before the full impact of it had even hit you, before you had even left the bathroom, you found yourself wishing you could skip ahead a month or a year. Because once the grief began, you knew it was going to be almost unbearable.

•✦•✦•✦•

You padded toward the door to the room next to yours, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you knocked. The door swung open wide and Cassian appeared. His smile quickly turned to confusion as he registered your bare legs, oversized t-shirt just barely covering your underwear. You had meant to put your shorts back on but they were forgotten on the bathroom floor in your flurry of emotion.

Cassian grasped your arm and pulled you into his room, looking both ways down the hall before he closed it behind him.

"What are you doing?" He asked in bewilderment, whirling around to look at you.

"We have to go right now. I need Azriel." You cursed your wavering voice. You were trying desperately to hold it together. Not to send anything down the bond and worry Azriel.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Cassian's face softened, confusion turning to concern as he inspected you for injury, eyes skimming over your trembling form, the hem of your shirt bunched in your fists.

"I-" You knew he was going to ask but the question broke you anyways. You slid to the floor, lip quivering. The thick carpet was rough against your bare legs.

A sob wracked your body as the grief began, dark churning waves swallowing you whole. There was no stopping it, no turning back. Almost immediately, you felt a questioning tug on the golden thread in your chest.

Cassian crouched beside you, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't speak for a moment, trying to decipher the scene, grimacing at the sorrowful cry you let out.

"Your cycle?" He asked, his voice gravelly. You could tell from the worry in his tone that he already knew the answer but you shook your head anyways. He could smell it. The blood and the loss.

"How long have you...." His voice drifts off, like the rest of the question would only break you further. It probably would.

"Last night," You manage between gasps, tears wetting your face and neck, leaving dark spots on your collar.

"Are you in any pain?" He asks, and you nod again, clutching your lower stomach in answer.

Cassian stands and disappears. You can hear sounds of rummaging, zipping and scraping as you bury your face in your hands. Azriel's questioning pulls are growing closer together and more frantic.

Cassian returns with his pack slung over his shoulder, a pair of his sweatpants in hand. He grabs your shoulders gently and pulls you up. Then he holds out the sweatpants for you to step into, letting you brace yourself on his shoulders. He scoops you up without a word and you let your head fall against his shoulder, tears never ceasing.

•✦•✦•✦•

The House of Wind comes into view and Cassian can make out Azriel, pacing back and forth on the balcony. As soon as you are close enough, his shadows dart toward you in the sky, circling to check for injuries. You're not sure what they'll tell him.

Cassian lands smoothly and you are instantly handed to Azriel, his familiar warmth pulling a fresh wave of tears down your face. His anxious face is looking down at you and can't stand the tenderness, letting your eyes close. He's whispering with Cassian and you can't hear what they're saying inside your bubble of grief. But you feel a wave of sorrow through the bond and you silently thank Cassian for saying the words you couldn't conjure.

Azriel is taking you inside, holding you tightly against him, and you can hear the sound of beating wings as Cassian takes off again.

You hear the thud of Az's boots on the floor, then you're shifting in his arms as he sits cross legged on the couch and pulls you into his lap. You pull your knees to your chest and he wraps his arms around you.

"I'm sorry," you croak, voice hoarse from crying.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," His deep voice rumbles in his chest and the vibrations are comforting. His fingers are running through your hair, soft kisses pressed to your forehead. His other hand rubs your back in soothing circles.

Cassian returns soon with Madja, carrying her bag of supplies. You are looking deliberately anywhere but at their faces, not able to bear any sadness or compassion you might find. Such shame has enveloped you, but you're not even sure what for. You don't have the words for it.

She lets you stay in Azriel's arms as she examines you. Her hands glow with a golden aura as she moves them up and down, then centers them over your lower abdomen. You feel a strange tingling as her magic pulses through you, returning back to her with information about your condition. The room is silent as she works, watching and waiting.

When Madja is done, she runs a tender hand across your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face.

"You were right, dear," She says, her voice is kind but with no pity like you feared, "A miscarriage. An early one, likely about six to eight weeks. They're sadly very common in early pregnancy."

Azriel's hands tighten around you, your gaze too focused on the healer to see the tremble of his bottom lip. But Cassian sees it, and it splits his heart in two. Madja places a few vials on the coffee table and continues,

"Take one of these a day and they'll help with the pain and ward off infection. You'll want to keep in mind that your emotions may be a little high as your hormones even back out. And plan for your next cycle to be extra heavy. I'd like to see you around that time to make sure all is well."

You nod, biting your bottom lip to keep the crying from starting again. You want to ask her about the overwhelming sorrow you feel, if that's normal or not. But she presses a hand to your cheek and gives you a sad smile and you understand that she knows what you're feeling.

"I'm sorry for your loss, my dear," she says, then turns to Azriel and presses her hand to his face in turn, "I know that you don't need my warning, because you're a good man and you'll support her. But don't for a moment let her believe that this was her fault. There was nothing anyone could have done, and now she needs to rest and heal. And you take care of yourself, as well."

You look up at Azriel's face and watch him give a grave nod. He looks down at you, a few tears falling down his face, and you wipe them away as your own begin again.

•✦•✦•✦•

The next few days are spent in your shared room, curled up in the bed. Mourning, crying, sometimes smiling and laughing over daydreams of what could have been. Your beautiful possibility.

Your fear of Azriel's reaction entirely melts away. He grieves with you, tenderly reassures you that you've done nothing wrong. That when the time comes again you'll make a wonderful mother and he'll welcome the new life with you. He begins the habit of calling your lost one your little star. It somehow soothes and sharpens the pain at the same time.

You did not know it was possible to miss something you'd only had for such a short time. To feel such an unbearable amount of love for something you had not even held in your arms. And you knew the love would not go away even though your little star was no longer with you. All of that love would stay in your heart until your last day on earth, and beyond that it would burn in the sky as a glittering star when you were finally reunited with your baby. Someday, you would grow around the grief and your body would learn to hold it with less pain, but until then your very bones would ache with the loss.

•✦•✦•✦•

When you're ready, a handful of your friends gather with you to say goodbye. Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta follow you to the Sidra under the full moon. They were the only ones who knew, yet. In time you'd tell all of them, but it was all too fragile still. You couldn't even think the words without a lump forming in your throat. Rhys knew and had sent his condolences, and you suspected his absence was out of respect to your privacy.

Nesta and Feyre had helped you begin to return to normal, coming over in the morning to braid your hair and make sure you had breakfast. Even though Azriel had never left your side. Slowly, the shock faded away into the dull ache of mourning, the numbness in your body giving way to the aftermath of its loss.

Today, Nesta held your coat out for you and tucked your scarf around your neck. When you slip your hands into your pockets, you find something waiting for you. You pull it out, holding it flat in your palm to examine.

A bracelet. Strands of light pink, light blue, and gold woven together. A tiny golden star charm dangled from it. You look at Nesta with a wobbly chin, eyes glistening, and she smiles, giving your arm a squeeze.

Now, you kneel at the edge of the Sidra, near the mouth of the river pouring into the sea. The moonlight dances on the gently flowing water, stars glimmering as far as the eye could see.

You murmur your prayer and place your lantern in the water, watching the current carry it away to the sea. Azriel sits beside you and pulls you tight against his side, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His tears are cold against your skin. You watch the little light drift away toward the horizon, staying until the cold of the ground seeps through your shoes and the lantern has long since disappeared.

Mother hold you, little star. May she greet you with all the love and tenderness I cannot give you, and may she keep you close until I leave this earth and come to meet you. As long as I am breathing, you will not leave my heart for a moment.

[pit-and-the-pen]

You Found Me

Summary:A mission gone wrong. Can Azriel get to you in time to save you? 

Warnings: Wing cutting, gore, descriptions of pain, near character death, angsty angst, one singular use of y/n 

Disclaimer: This is a dark one so please use caution when reading and please let me know if there is any warning I need to add.

WC: ~3k

Walking into that house, you instantly knew something was wrong. Every part of your body was screaming at you to turn around and leave, calling for one of the male to come and help you. But that small prideful part of you, remembering that small joke that Cassian made the other day, you’d be lost without us sweetheart, kept you from doing exactly that. Needing to prove that you didn't always need the Illyrian soldiers to come clean up your messes. 

So you pushed down that little voice in your head and gripped your sword a little tighter, wings flaring out behind you at the unease in your stomach. Taking a step past the doorway, you held your breath, ears scanning the room for any sound other than your racing heart. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself down. It didn’t work in the slightest. 

Your hands were trembling on the grip you had on the hilt of your sword and you mentally cursed yourself. Get it together. All you had to do was look for some notebook Azriel had gained some information about. Just a notebook and you could leave. 

Taking one more step, you almost missed it. The soft click of a trap locking into place. Your breathing all but stopped, eyes flickering around the room trying to glean any information about what just happened. Nothing. Listening even harder you could vaguely hear the sound of someone else’s breathing and that was enough to send a jolt of fear through you. You were truly trapped. Thinking only a second longer than necessary, you moved your foot off the loose floorboard. Deciding that the trap would be better than whoever else you heard in the room. 

The dart that shot out from the wall across from you was easy enough to dodge but the net that swept you off your feet took you by complete surprise. Your sword had slipped from your hand in your shock and you started to struggle against the rope cage. Something sharp dug into your arm and you cried out. The room instantly seemed to tilt on its head as your eyes fell shut. 

Your head was pounding when your eyes finally opened. Shooting up as the events from before caught up with you again. 

When your eyes finally opened again, you were unsure of how much time had passed. Only aware of the sting in your shoulders from where they were pinned above your head. Willing your eyes to focus you made out two figures standing in front of you. 

“Well good morning.” The shorter female said to you. “Thought I’d heard someone sniffing around. Didn’t think it would be anyone other than those two bastards.” She chuckled and you tried to pull against the chains. The pain that shot through you only made you cry out again. 

“I think we better let them know what happens when they poke their noses in other courts' business.” 

You didn’t have a chance to feel relief from being let out of those chains. You were pushed onto a blood splattered table. The female coming up behind you. She pulled the long blade from her side and waved it in front of your face. 

“Such a shame.” She muttered mostly to herself. You went to leap at her before two strong sets of hands pinned you back down. The cold metal trailed over your shoulders and sheer terror ripped through you. 

It was agony. The blade is far too dull to be making contact with anything let alone your delicate wings. You were thrashing around, the hands of your captors barely able to pin you down. Screams were flowing freely from your mouth, tangling with curses. Blood was caked under your nails, both yours and from the few good swipes you have managed to get in as their grip tightened on you. You tried to block out the pain, tried to ignore the way your entire body was drowning in it. Breathing hurts. The sickening thud against the floor told you all you needed to know. Your wings were gone. Your screams continued as the pain still coursed through every nerve. The blood would not stop. That slightly herbal smell in the air told you what was on those blades, faebane. A new wave of panic coursed through you. With the faebane you wouldn’t heal. You would bleed out before it wore off. You were going to bleed out in the middle of this gods damned house and no one would know until it was too late. 

Calm down. Think. You tried to tell yourself but as your vision started to darken around the edges you couldn’t stop the panic that was threatening to take you under. 

So you did the only thing you could think of. You stopped thrashing. Stopped screaming. Tucked that pain into a little part of you to make it seem like you had passed out. It wasn’t far off from how you felt. The pain threatened to pull you under. But you willed yourself to Stay awake even as you close your eyes. Rhys would have been able to tell something was off. 

Your captors said something you couldn’t quite fully make out but the slamming of a door mixed with their sickening laughter fading let you know they were no longer in the house. Forcing your eyes back open, you gathered the strength to reach a hand to your mangled back. Shaky hand reaching to inspect the full scope of damage. The damage that the faesbane was preventing from healing. When you pulled your hand away from your back you knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. They came away sticky and red and you had to force your vision to stop swirling. 

The house was eerily quiet. Until a flurry of grunts and cries reached your ears. You knew that voice. Azriel. At least you could see him one last time. It might even be worth it just to see his face before it all faded away. 

“y/n” He all but screamed into the room. You let out a meek response and you heard his unusually heavy footsteps freeze. A cry was pulled from his lips and you forced your eyes to focus on him.

“I knew you would find me” Your eyes were so heavy. 

“No. Stay awake,” You could barely register the sob that broke through his body. “You have to stay awake for me sweet girl.”

You tried your best but you could feel your eyelids screaming in protest. Begging you to just go to sleep. His shadows were wrapping around you, trying to keep pressure on your wounds. 

“Rhys and Cassian are going to be here any second now. You have to be awake when they get here.” Not good enough. You could almost hear the gears in his brain as he searched for the next thing to say. 

“I remember the first time I ever saw you.” His voice so much closer now, close enough that he took your hand in his. The pressure makes your eyes widen a little bit. He swam in and out of your vision, black spots beginning to take over. 

“You had just gotten into a fight. I didn’t see what started it, just came running when Rhys told me he saw it happening.” You blinked unfocused up at him. Trying your  best to remember. “We were all ready to jump in and protect you but you had the assholes on the ground by the time we all got there.” He laughed. The sound warming your body, when had it gotten so cold? “You managed to put three full grown Illyrian soldiers on their ass in a matter of minutes. Managed to smile at us as we showed up.” He paused 

“Wanna be next?” You rasped out. You could make out his smile through the haze. 

“The first thing you ever said to me was you seeing if you should kick our asses too. You weren’t scared of us, you weren’t, aren’t, scared of anything.” 

“That’s not true.” It was a fight to get the words out. Your voice sounded far away. “Azriel, I have to tell you something.” 

“No.” He all but growled. “You’ll tell me when we get back home.” 

You used the little bit of strength you had left to raise your arm to his face. He didn’t flinch at the blood left there. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years now.” There. You had finally said it. Your eyes had gotten too heavy to keep them open any longer. 

“Please. Just a little longer, sweetheart.” You couldn’t honor the request. Couldn’t fight the screaming muscles as your eyes flickered closed. Everything faded away as you drifted off to sleep. 

It felt like flying. Soaring high above everyone and everything. The pain that had been running through your body didn’t stop the moment my eyes closed, but even a little bit of reprieve was better than nothing. You would have let out a sigh of relief if you could have, but it didn’t seem like you had any control over your lungs at the moment. It was too confusing to try to figure out exactly why. 

Closing your eyes, you could almost feel a thread slipping over you. It was warm and letting go of it seemed so wrong. Your mind tried to grab onto it, hold it tighter but it was no use. Like trying to catch a bar of soap in the shower. Slipping out of your mind the harder you held on. It faded away and the screaming building in my throat got stuck as the last bit of feeling slipped away into nothingness. 

✦✦✦

The next moments were some of the worst of his life. Azriel watched your eyes flicker shut. Screaming at Rhys to hurry up. Begging the gods, anyone that would listen, to keep your heart beating. A heart he still heard the faint rhythm of. That was the hope he had to cling to. Not the ribbons carved out of your back. Not the way you felt so much lighter in his hold. No he could only focus on the fact that you were still alive in his arms. 

So he counted each heartbeat. The words echoing around his head. I love you. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say it back. He would scream it from the highest mountain if it would keep you here with him. Almost there. Rhys’ voice rang through his head. She doesn’t have a lot of time. Please. Azriel sent the scene in front of him and he heard the frantic buzz in Rhys’ mind, speeding up to get to her. Azriel was already tearing through the house to get you to where he could winnow but the damned wards were surrounding the house farther than he could get you to and he was afraid to fly with you in your current condition. He would need Rhys here to break the wards. 

Azriel was too caught up in his thoughts to see the minor wounds on you starting to heal. Fading to nothing but pink marks. The larger ones were finally starting to clot. But he was too caught up in the flood of grief that was circling him, he could have drowned in it but he had to hold out. He had to hope that she was coming back. Azriel didn’t think he would survive her being gone. 

The commotion outside let him know his brothers had finally arrived. He almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. If it didn’t feel like his heart was outside of his body right now. Still listening to the faint sound in your chest. Still beating. It was the only thing holding him back from losing it completely. 

Rhys and Cassian caught up with him and he fought the urge to bite Rhys’ head off as he slipped your unconscious form into his arms. He couldn’t help but wince at the way you looked so frail covered in your own blood. He had never seen either of his brothers so pale before. He thanked whatever gods that he hadn't already cursed when Rhys was finally able to winnow you all back to Velaris. 

Madja had to all but throw him out of the room when she started to get to work. “I can’t heal anything with your shadows flying all over the place.” the old healer barked at him. He was about to argue back before he caught Rhys’ eyes, the small shake of his brother's head left him storming out of the room. He didn’t go further than the door frame. Unable to look away as  he watched Madja’s deft hands attempt to fix your back. He spent hours outside in the hallway. Practically wearing a path in the floorboards from his pacing. His wings were flared out beside him. He tried his hardest to reign them in. Their weight felt wrong against his back, the same way you had felt so wrong in his arms from your lack of wings. How he wishes he could have gotten to you sooner. How he wishes he could have spent more time carving up the monsters that did this to you. He doesn’t regret getting you out of there, the exact opposite. Madja had said that even a few minutes more and the blood loss would have been too great. His heart ached in a way he never imagined at the thought of what could have happened. 

Cassian finally walked out of the room. Shoulders hunched and wings dangerously close to sweeping across the ground. He looked as exhausted as Azriel felt. 

“You should go in. She’s not waking up anytime soon but you should be the first one she sees.” Was all Cassian said as he passed Azriel. He didn’t hesitate before he walked back into the room and the relief he felt at seeing you was instantaneous. Someone had thought to clean you up. The blood that covered your skin gone, the metallic scent being the only reminder it was even there in the first place. 

----------------

Your eyes shot open. A yelp left your lips and you shot up off the surface you were laying on. Warm hands wrapped around your arm and you tried to push them off. 

“I’m here. You’re safe. It’s just me.” Azriel’s voice soothed your rising panic. Safe. You let your surroundings sink in then. The soft mattress underneath you. The familiar feeling of your blankets against your skin. Your body relaxed slightly until your memories started flooding back to you. Instinctually, you went to flex your wings. Your whole body screams in protest and it really begins to dawn on you. 

“So it wasn’t a bad dream.” You sniffled, wanting nothing more than to disappear from those intense hazel eyes. Eyes that held nothing but pain and guilt as they looked at you. 

“I’m so sorry… we should have never let you go by yourself.” He tried to pull you against his chest and released you like you had burned him when you flinched at the contact. 

“I want to see.” He froze at your words. No further explanation was needed. A small rational part of your mind knows that you should focus on healing, focus on the fact that you had lived. But you needed to see with your own two eyes that your wings were no longer there. 

Azriel opened his mouth like he was going to protest but quickly shut it. Instead, he held out a hand for you to grab. You did so and rose on wobbly legs. 

He led you to the floor length mirror across the room. His hand not leaving yours as you took in your appearance. 

White hot shame filled your body. Your wings had been one of the biggest testaments to your strength. The fact that you could still fly as even a half-illyrian female was one of your biggest sources of pride. Proof that you had survived. Now, as you turned to get a better look at your back, you balked at the angry marks that took up over half of your back. The stitches still holding the angry looking skin together. The sob left your body before you could even stop it. Azriel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you upright. Legs refusing to hold you up anymore.

When Azriel turned to face you, you found yourself unable to look him in the eyes. Your own lingering on the floor. A gentle finger under your chin tipped your face up to meet his. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl? What’s going on in that head of yours.” You could only shake your head. Unable to find the words. Your brain is so distracted that you didn’t even fully process the name he just called you. 

“Do you want to go lay back down?” Nodding, he helped you walk over to your bed again. But this time he crawled in behind you. 

“Is this okay?” He asked before he got any closer. 

“Please don’t go.” Was all you could respond with. Not caring how desperate it might have made you sound.” 

“Of course not. I’ll stay right here until you tell me otherwise.” He sat right next to you and you let out a heavy sigh before you laid your head on his lap. 

“Why did you stay? I don’t see any of the others.” You questioned after a few minutes of silence. Your eyes were starting to get heavy again but you wanted to talk to him more. 

“We all decided that it should be me here when you woke up. Not like I left the room anyways.” He said softly. 

“Why?” Was the only thing you could think to say. 

“Because I love you too,” His hand had started to brush over your hair, fingers combing through the knots. “And you love me.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say to that. He continue on,

“You seemed so…so calm when I got to you” His voice was barely above a whisper now, my ears struggling to hear him. 

“Because I knew you would find me.” You said as you allowed yourself to drift into a peaceful sleep. 

[potatoplace]

my tears ricochet

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain

loml (part one)

Story Summary: Azriel meeting you, his mate, throws a wrench in all of his plans, nearly a decade in the making with Elain. He begins his mateship with you, still with Elain all the while telling you that you are the love of his life. But, not every good thing can last.

Warnings: Suicide (more graphic than first chapter imo), heavy angst, alcoholism, infidelity, sex

Words: ~6.2k

Author's Note: and here's the second part, now I have to warn you, the first one didn't make me cry at all. But this one? I was sobbing like Feyre and Az, typing through my tears. Thank you for all of the love you guys showed to loml, it means so much to me to see every comment and note. I hope you all enjoy the final part!

p.s. I almost named it Last Kiss. Taylor is just perfect for angst, I tell ya

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🩷💙

The wind was rushing through his hair, cooling his body, slightly calming him. But his heart was still racing, his mind panicked.

His mate. He had finally met his mate.

But Elain… they had just started discussing the possibility of having children. And nearly ten years together, ten years of love and comfort.

He’d known this was a possibility, he had just thought it would never happen. That the Mother had made a mistake in not mating him to Elain. But now, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t the love of his life, his sweet, perfect Elain, it was some random woman in the streets of Velaris. Beautiful, yes, but she didn’t hold a flame to Elain’s beauty. Her scent however… a refreshing blend of apples and autumn rain, so overpowering he could hardly smell the air rushing past him, even this far away from her.

He needed to tell Elain. He had to tell her, before he did anything stupid, like turning around and finding the female he had just abandoned in the streets.

They’d discussed what might happen if he ever found his mate, and the possibility of it was why Elain has yet to fully reject the bond with Lucien, though as far as Azriel was aware, the two only saw each other at holiday parties and the occasional family dinner that Lucien attended. They’d decided that if he did find his mate, he would come immediately to Elain and they would talk it through.

So, he flew straight to the townhouse, landing next to Elain where she was kneeling on the grass, tending to her flower garden. “‘Lain,” he started, the tension in his voice causing her to stand up and look at him instantly. “I… I found my mate,” he said, regretting that he even had to say the words.

Tears filled her eyes, and he put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. “All I did was see her in the street, baby. I left right after and I’m here now.”

Still, she shook her head. “I cannot believe this Azriel. Now?! Now that we’ve decided to try for a family, that’s when you find your mate? This is ridiculous!” Elain vented, and it was truly one of the first times Azriel had seen her angry.

“I know, and I’m so sorry. I wish I would never have seen her, I only love you.”

“You don’t know that you wouldn’t love her,” Elain scoffed. “But you have a decision to make. Are you going to reject the bond.”

Azriel opened his mouth, not quite believing how bold Elain was being. “I don’t know. That’s not exactly a decision to make lightly, Elain. You know that.”

“Oh, really? This again? Just because I haven’t rejected Lucien doesn’t mean that you don’t have to make a decision, Azriel.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow at her, shocked by her hypocrisy. “Then you have one to make as well, Elain. Lucien or I? Which will it be?” Elain opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it. “Exactly. It’s not as easy as you thought, is it?”

Elain sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. “Fine. You can get to know her, if you’d like. But the moment you want it to turn to something more, come find me again. Until then… let’s just continue as normal,” she suggested, pushing up on her tip-toes to give Azriel a kiss on the lips before scrunching her nose. “Ugh, I can smell her on you. Let’s go take a bath, hmm?” She led Azriel by the hand to her room, undressing him as she pushed him towards the bathroom.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

It was two weeks later, and Azriel had prepared himself enough mentally to seek out his mate. It didn’t take long, seeing as two of his shadows had followed her back to her home, reporting to him that she had spent the past fortnight crying herself to sleep and barely leaving the house except for her work.

He flew over to her house, an adorable one bedroom that had a nice porch on the front, and a stained glass door depicting the season of autumn, leaves changing color as they fall from a tree and landing in a pile at the bottom. The pale orange paint on the exterior was faded slightly, chipping away in places, but besides that the home looked well cared for.

He steeled himself, then walked towards that beautiful door, knocking carefully on its surface. It was time to get to know his mate.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

3 Months Later

Elain stared at him, obviously not believing what Azriel just told her as they stood in their shared bedroom.

“You want to be with her?”

Azriel sighed. Truly, he wanted both females to stay in his life, but that was impossibility. “Yes, Elain. I’ve… I’ve fallen for her, over the past few months.”

Elain hissed, her outrage making itself known. “A few months?!” She screeched at him. “You’re going to throw away a decade over a few months?!”

“I’m not… I’m not throwing it away, Elain, this is something I have to do. She’s my mate,” he sighed. He didn’t want to argue with her. “I don’t want you to leave my life, either. But the connection between us… it’s always there. I can feel her all the time, Elain, and I don’t want to do you a disservice by being unfaithful to you in my heart.”

Elain, who up until this point had been glaring at him, looked off into the distance, contemplating.

“So, don’t leave my life,” she stated plainly.

“I… what?” Azriel asked in disbelief.

“Stay in my life, stay with me, and you can have your little mate. Just as long as you know that you come home to me after missions, after anything important. I take precedence over her. And she won’t be welcome at any family gatherings. If they ask about her, say that she’s better suited as a friend.”

She said it all as if it was simple, as if it made sense. So Azriel believed her.

Because that way, he could have the female he’d loved for so long, and he could also have his mate.

It was truly the best of both worlds.

“Alright, Elain. That’s a fair enough deal. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?” He asked, prowling towards her and grabbing her by the waist.

“Oh, Azzie, I promise I’ll be fine with it. Do I love that you might fuck another female? No, but as long as I can send you to her covered in my scent, I’ll be fine,” Elain purred, running a hand up his chest.

“Oh?” Azriel smirked down at her, taking her face in his hand. “And how will you do that?” He breathed in her ear, kissing her neck gently.

“I have a few ways. Come to the bed and I’ll show you, Azzie.”

Matching grins covered their faces as Azriel picked her up and tossed her gently on the bed.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would tell Y/N that he wanted to be serious.

Tonight, however… tonight he would spend worshipping Elain’s body like the goddess she is deserves.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

5 Years Later

Shit, Azriel thought to himself. Shit shit shit.

He was late. So, very late.

Elain had wanted him to spend the night together, but it was his and Y/N’s fifth anniversary the next morning.

So, he’d left in the middle of the night after his mate’s breathing had evened out, flying off in the direction of the town house. He landed in front of a simpering Elain, obviously pleased with how the night was playing out.

They had spent the night wrapped in each other, falling asleep under the sheets together as the new day dawned upon them.

Azriel had, of course, planned ahead for the possibility of sleeping in a bit too long to return home before his mate awoken, a bouquet of roses, sapphire blue for him and a pale yellow for his sweet, sunshiney mate, and love note on the nightstand. He’d also left out a coffee and book he’d spent an agonizing amount of time convincing his mate’s favorite author to give him in advance of the commercial release on the kitchen counter. He hadn’t thought that he’d be so late though, the sun having risen nearly to the halfway point in the sky.

He only hoped his mate wouldn’t scent Elain’s arousal, still mixed heavily with his scent. She had never said anything in the past, and he believed she wouldn’t now.

With the speed he was flying towards her house, most of it should be whisked off of him by the time he reached her.

Once he landed, he made sure to take a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open, greeted by his mate’s lovely scent, coming from the window seat to the right of the door.

You ran to him, and he greeted you with his arms first, the weight of you so perfect in his arms, as though the two of you were carved out of the same flesh, finally put back together for the moment.

The day was perfect, ending with the two of you snuggled together in bed.

The dagger you had gifted him was perfect, ornate enough to be worn on his belt during ceremonies, and the curved blade had fascinated him at first. He realized that you had meant it more as a way to keep you with him on his missions, rather than to do much killing. Though, it would make some wicked stab wounds, possibly helpful in interrogations. However, he didn’t think he could bear using something so precious as a gift from you during the… messier parts of his occupation.

Nonetheless, it was a perfect, thoughtful gift, and he loved it, loved you so deeply.

He sighed.

It was nights like these when his conscious kicked in, reminding him of the traitorous double life he was living. Sure, Elain was well aware of the situation, maybe not of the depth of his emotions towards you, but that wasn’t something she needed to know.

You, however… you were completely in the dark, unaware that the best friend he went on about is really his life partner of a decade and a half.

He felt so guilty, but he didn’t know how to stop, with either one of you. Elain, they had so much history and you, well, you are his mate, the person the Mother had made just for him.

He breathed in your scent, his mind relaxing as he did so. Azriel reminded himself that he still had six years left before he needed to make a true decision between the two perfect females.

Six years didn’t feel like near enough time, it felt almost cruel that he had to limit himself to a decade until he made a decision about the mating bond. He supposed Elain didn’t know that detail, either.

And now that you wanted to meet his family… well. That decision may end up coming sooner rather than later.

It all depended on how he swung it.

He knew that Elain would be difficult to convince, but he believed he would be able to. His plan was to inform the family to not make any comments about his and Elain’s relationship, and tell them that you knew about them but are still very sensitive to the subject, preferring to avoid it overall. They already knew that the you and Azriel are “friends,” Azriel having been unable to keep you a complete secret from his nosy family.

Azriel had to make it happen, or you would know something is off.

He was lucky, all things considered, that you had waited five years to ask to meet his family.

The next morning after a nice lie-in with you, he took off for the townhouse, ready to rip the gauze off. He approached Elain, in the gardens as she normally was this time of day, working on the garden before the heat climbed up too high.

“Elain, can we talk in our room?” He asked her, relieved when she followed him without question.

“What is it?” She questioned, knowing he was here with a purpose.

“Y/N wants to meet the family.”

Elain immediately started to shake her head, infuriated by the idea. “No. No, Azriel! We agreed that she would not enter our lives before you started this, that won’t change now.”

“Baby, it would just be one dinner, I will tell her not to show any affection towards me, and her curiosity will be satisfied, I promise.”

Elain thought about it for a moment, her face still pinched in anger, before it relaxed in resignation. “If this dinner is to happen, you will fuck me in this very room while she sits in the living room. If not, my answer is no, Azriel.”

Azriel considered it, the nodded, knowing it was his only way forward. And, he couldn’t deny that the thought of fucking Elain with you in the next room excited him, the riskiness of it so tempting.

“Then, inform the rest of the family. Tell them whatever you need to to keep your silly little relationship with your mate a secret. I will not be embarrassed by this, Azriel,” Elain warned, a danger in her eyes.

“Thank you, Elain.” He moved in towards her, and whispered lowly in her ear, “The sex we will have in here on that night will rival every other time we’ve been together, baby.” A shiver ran down Elain’s spine, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“It better, Azzie. Otherwise I just might crush her heart myself,” She said in a sweet tone, but Azriel took it as the threat it was.

Still, as long as everything went to plan, he will keep his two females as his, for years to come.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

The dinner went perfectly, Y/N feeling insecure, while it pained him, truly worked out for the better. The less comfortable that first meeting had felt, the less likely she was to insist on attending another family dinner.

Over the next few months, he could tell you were preparing something, most likely some kind of surprise for his birthday. Every year, you outdid yourself. When he was in town- or rather, not with Elain- you would wake him up with his favorite pastries from his favorite café, or his favorite dish from Kalia’s, a wonderful little breakfast restaurant located along the Sidra. And every year, you gave him a different custom made item, from the spider silk gloves that were fire and tear proof to the fortified, comfortable boots that he wore to this day.

During that time as well, Elain was becoming bolder with her requests of his time, drawing him away most nights after you fell asleep, only to return a few hours later, slipping back into your bed with jasmine and honey coating his senses.

That didn’t matter though, not when he was more enamored with you than ever. You were so kind, so focused on his happiness, he hardly deserved the honor of being your mate. The guilt of the situation had been weighing on him heavily, especially when he had felt you measuring his ring finger while you believed him to be dead asleep.

He was nearly ready to cut things off with Elain, her attitude as of late was bitter and angry, and while he avoided bringing you up around her, every time he did she said something condescending about you. The only problem was their history with each other, so many years that they had been together, and realized that he would be throwing it away, there was no way that Elain would ever be fine only being his friend, and seeing you near her family. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Elain attempted to take your life, her hatred of you ran that deeply.

He’d realized things were getting to dangerous territory when you had come back to your house, gushing to Azriel about how you and Elain might be becoming friends, and how you could see why Azriel liked her so much, she’s just so nice.

It was the day before his birthday now, and he had just returned to your home when you burst through the doors, bags filling your arms.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed, quickly walking over to the counter to deposit the bags, then made your way to your mate. You leaned up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. “Listen, I know this will sound a little weird, but I’d like you to stay at your spare room in the townhouse tonight, if you’re willing. I want to set up a little surprise for you here,” you tell him, a smile gracing your face, and a matching expression lit up his face. “I’ll come get you in the morning, around 9 if that sounds reasonable to you?”

“Of course, babydoll,” he replied, claiming your mouth again in kiss more heated than the last. “Do I have to leave at this very moment?”

You hummed, your body relaxing against him as he kissed down your neck. “No, not yet, mate. You can stick around for a while.”

“Hmm, so I can take my sweet, thoughtful mate into our bedroom and devour her like the goddess she is?” He asked, already lifting you by your ass, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips.

“I’d love that, Az,” you say, peppering kisses along his jawline as he carried you to the bed.

He left a few hours later, walking back to the townhouse at a slow pace, reminiscing on the feeling of your skin and soft sighs, how much he was looking forward to whatever you’re planning for tomorrow.

He entered the townhouse a few minutes later, breezing into his room that he shares with Elain. She was inside, already naked on the bed and touching herself.

“Oh, Azzie, I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, pouncing towards him the moment the door snicked shut behind him. Once she reached him, though, she wrinkled her nose. “Let’s go get you in the bath, Azzie, I don’t want to kiss you while you smell so gross.” Elain pushed him towards the bath, where they spent a good hour basking in each other’s presence before making their way to the bed. They remained there until dinner, getting a quick meal from the kitchen before returning to the haven.

The night passed quickly, and Elain woke him by sucking his cock to life, the climbing on top of him. She rode him at a slow, torturous pace for a few minutes, before he tired her teasing and flipped her onto her back, continuing their activities, even as the door to their room opened wide, a gasp sounding from the doorway, and Elain’s arms wrapped tighter around his neck, legs wrapping around his hips, pressing his lower half tighter against her.

The scent hit him- autumnal rain and sweet apples- and his blood ran cold. He wanted to run, wanted to explain to you, but the grip of Elain’s heavenly cunt was too much, and he finished inside of her, pulling out as soon as he was able to.

His eyes were wide, he could barely process the situation, he tried to sit up and look at the doorway, but Elain’s grip around his neck was tighter than he expected. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking positively pleased with herself.

“Elain, I need to go talk to her,” he stated frantically, still attempting to pull away from her gently. He could hear her yelling outside, Feyre’s soft voice following it.

“No, you don’t Azriel. She just saw you cheating on her, she’ll want nothing to do with you now,” Elain declared proudly.

Azriel furrowed his brow at her, a sinking feeling in his gut, and he looked at the clock- only 8 in the morning. “Did you know she was going to show up this early?” He questioned, hoping the answer was no. If it was yes…

“Of course, it was my idea to have you stay here last night.” Her voice held no remorse, and Azriel pried her hands from his neck and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed.

He placed his head in his hands, panic overtaking his mind.

His mate… his sweet, kind, caring, attentive mate… had just seen him fucking Elain, her supposed friend. Fuck. This is bad.

He got up, throwing on a pair of leathers as quickly as he could, before Elain’s hand caught his.

“You’re seriously going after her? What the fuck is wrong with you, Azriel?!” She yelled at him, before Feyre’s voice cut through.

“What in the hells is wrong with you, Azriel?! You’re not only cheating on Elain, but Y/N didn’t even know the two of you were together?! How could you do that to your mate?!”

Elain’s anger was one thing, more unsettling than anything else, but Feyre’s? Feyre’s rage was terrifying, and Azriel had the common sense to cower as night coalesced around her.

It was then that he noticed his shadows had left him, and he could still hear them screaming about Y/N from wherever they had ran to.

“Feyre, I know how bad it seems, but I never meant for her to get hurt. And Elain knew about my relationship with her, I wouldn’t have gone ahead with it without her approval,” he said, trying to get the truth out before Feyre eviscerated him.

Elain scoffed, grabbing her nightgown from the floor next to their bed.

Azriel turned to cock a brow at her, daring her to voice whatever was rattling around in her head.

“You should have cut her sorry ass off years ago, Azzie. She’s not worthy of you, she never has been, and she never will be,” Elain spat at him, just as his gut fell through the floor and to the core of the earth.

The bond- the precious, delicate string tying you to him- severed in a single moment.

He dropped to his knees, a wail leaving his body of its own accord, the grief striking him in every nerve ending of his body as your presence left him, as he was left with a gaping hole in his soul that you used to occupy.

“Azriel?” Feyre called frantically, shaking him by the shoulders, but he could do nothing more than to loose gut wrenching cries of pain at the loss of his mate.

Rhys appeared a moment later, diving into his mind with a gentleness he did not deserve.

“Y/N…” he sighed, a tear rolling down his face. “She’s died.”

“Died?!” Feyre exclaimed. “She was just in the garden fifteen minutes ago, how could she have-?” She cut herself off, realizing exactly what happened. “Rhys, get her address from him.”

He did as she said, and she bolted away, leaving Rhys, Elain, and Azriel in the room.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

Feyre

She sprinted through the streets, making her way to the area that Rhys said your house was located in. It was orange, with a stained glass door according to Azriel’s memories.

Feyre still couldn’t believe what he had done, how he had betrayed his mate.

You was awkward at times, yes, and a little shy, but you were so sweet and it was obvious to Feyre how much you cared for Azriel- obviously not the way you cared for him, but the amount was there, always shining through your actions.

Once Feyre arrived at your house, she stopped to stare at it for a moment. The light orange and pretty stained glass window suited you, calming in nature and gave off a similar presence’s to the autumnal scent you gave off. She prepared herself as she approached the door, taking a few deep breaths before turning the knob.

Feyre still wasn’t prepared for the sight before her.

You were laying in a pool of blood- your blood- and covered in Azriel’s shadows. She rushed forward, and the shadows moved away from your neck, revealing the large gash there. A dagger was in your hands, and Feyre sobbed, pawing at your neck in an attempt to make the bleeding stop somehow, even as she could hear no heartbeat, no breathing coming from your chest.

The wound was hardly seeping anything as it was, but Feyre couldn’t believe it. You didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to leave so alone, so in pain.

Her tears fell on your body, and after a few moments she pulled your head into her lap, and recited the prayer she had learned all that time ago, back in Spring.

“Mother hold you. May you pass through the gates. May you smell that immortal land of milk and honey,” she finished. She whispered a final, added phrase. “May your next life be kinder to you, Y/N.”

Feyre stood, reaching out to Rhys through her mind.

“How is Az?”

Rhys sighed. “He’s not doing well, we haven’t been able to move him or get him to do anything cry cry,” he admitted, worrying in his tone. “How’s… how is Y/N?”

“She’s gone, Rhys. She took her own life,” Feyre cried through the bond. “Can you or Cassian come and help me move her to Madja’s office? We should… we should have her prepared for a funeral as soon as we can.”

“Of course, darling, I’ll send Cassian to help you. I’d like to be with Az in case he needs to be knocked out for his own good.”

Cassian arrived a few agonizing minutes later, and after stumbling into the house, stopped and gasped in horror. “Y/N!” He cried, moving quickly towards where Feyre was stood next to your cooling body.

“I know, Cassian. It’s awful, she didn’t deserve any of this,” Feyre said sadly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “We need to move her, though.”

Cassian nodded and stooped over, collecting your limp body in his arms. The shadows were still gathered around your body, hiding as much of you from view as possible. They shifted just right, though, and Feyre caught sight of the knife belt resting upon your hips, tightened so much that she knew the belt was meant as a gift, having seen the dropped bags outside of Azriel’s door when she went to confront him.

She carefully pulled the belt of off you, noticing that the dagger you had used… matched the ones still secured in the belt.

You had used the gift you most likely intended for Azriel, to end your life. That hurt Feyre’s heart even more.

The two of them walked somberly towards Madja’s office, stares lingering on them and the body covered in shadows and held in Cassian’s arms.

They arrived in a few minutes, and Cassian gently set your body down on a stretcher Madja’s had set up in the back, the shadows still clinging relentlessly to your body, refusing to leave you even in death. Madja’s soft smile greets the both of them when they turn around.

“Rhys told me what happened, he said to prepare the body as soon as possible, is that correct?”

Feyre nodded in agreement, “Yes, just let us know when she is ready for the funeral, please, Madja.

“Of course Feyre. I’ll contact you once it’s done.”

With that, the two left the clinic, heading back toward your home to clean it up as much as they could.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

Azriel

His world was shattered. He watched as your coffin was lowered into the ground only two days after his birthday, the sky bright and sunny, just how you always loved it. But Azriel could barely stand in its rays, so overtaken with grief and rage at himself.

He had found the box among the remains of the presents you dropped at his door when you saw him fucking- he couldn’t even bear to think her name anymore.

The two rings, so perfectly Azriel that it made him sob harder than before.

You had always known exactly how to design something to scream his name, always known what he would prefer to have as a gift.

Azriel had wanted to place the ring made for your fingers on you before you were buried, but he couldn’t bear to sully your… your corpse with his hands.

He also didn’t deserve to have a ring matching one that you wear in your grave, he had betrayed you so thoroughly. So he kept the both of them.

Time passed so slowly now.

It was like the world had stopped moving once you passed, the broken tether to your soul holding him in place, not allowing him to move past the moment of your death.

He left the rings in his nightstand, pulling the box out when the pain became too much to bear. He had purchased your home, finally moving all of his things in, like he should have while you were alive.

Even though your life had ended here, he felt closest to you inside the four walls where your relationship had blossomed, bringing you out of your shy, anxious, and adorable little shell.

Azriel barely left the house anymore, only leaving when his family forced him, or the hunger in his stomach became unbearable enough that he ventured out to your favorite restaurant and ordered your favorite dish, just one more way to get any semblance of closeness to you again.

The first six months since your passing were hell. Absolute hell.

The broken string within him chafed with every breath, only subsiding when he drowned himself in vodka enough that he couldn’t see straight, passing out into an oblivion where you still existed, where his heart still beat your name happily, not in the overwhelming loss that had made it lose its rhythm.

His family had dragged him out tonight into their townhome, insisting that they hadn’t seen him in so long and they needed to get together.

He was feeling an extra pain, today. It was the anniversary of the beginning of your mateship. It would have been the sixth, if you were still here.

So, he strung the two rings on a silver chain, looping it over his head and wearing it over the top of his jacket. With them on, he felt like your presence was with him. One of the few remaining things he owned of you.

Feyre had given him the knife belt a month after your funeral, and he had promptly shoved it into the lowest drawer of the dresser. He knew, he just knew that one of those knives had been the end of you-

But that wasn’t true.

He was the end of you.

Azriel sighed. That train of thought wouldn’t make getting through this night easier. One thing might, however.

He stood up from the couch he was seated on and made his way over to the drink cart, pouring a generous amount of vodka into a crystal glass.

You had commented on the glasses your second dinner here, admiring the way they caught the light.

Tears burned at his eyes, and he downed half of the glass in one gulp, the burn distracting him enough that he didn’t jump when Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, brother. Will you be coming to the training ring again soon?” He asked, his tone gentle.

“We’ll see, Cassian,” Azriel answered, the one that he had given Cassian the past four times he had dared to ask the Shadowsinger.

“Okay, hopefully sometime soon. Or we could go out for a meal, just the two of us, hm? Just like the old days when we were stuck here, it could be fun,” Cassian suggested, and Azriel nodded in agreement just to get him to stop asking.

Cassian walked away, and Azriel could see him making a pointed expression at Feyre, probably urging her to come talk to him. He downed the rest of his drink, and poured another of the same amount.

By the time he had sat back down on the couch, Feyre was joining him.

She didn’t say anything, just sat with him as he sipped on his drink, relishing in the burn it carved through him.

They sat like that for a few minutes before Azriel’s left hand crept out, grasping Feyre’s right. The tears that had burned his eyes for six months, six long months of drinking himself to sleep as the tear in his soul grew, consuming him whole, had begun to fall, carving lines into his skin. Feyre’s hand squeezed his, and when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she thankfully had her eyes turned away from him, giving him the privacy he needed.

A minute or an hour could have passed before Azriel stood abruptly, making for the front door. He burst through it, tears still streaming down his face as he walked home as quickly as he could, the alcohol doing more to him now that he had lost weight from so many skipped meals. He could hear footsteps behind him, and if he dared enough it bet on anything anymore, he would say it’s Feyre.

She had told him at the funeral how guilty she felt for not realizing that Y/N was a danger to herself, but Azriel had brushed her off, telling her it was no one’s fault but his own.

Azriel knew she still carried it, though.

“I don’t need a minder, Feyre,” he drawled, slowing his pace so she could catch up from where she had been following him at a distance.

“From my eyes, you do Az.”

Her concerned tone made him sigh, the tears flowing even more freely now. He didn’t want to worry anyone, he simply wanted to waste away into nothing.

“I will be fine, Feyre, I promise,” he reassured her once she was at his side, though he didn’t fully believe it himself. “Just go home, go enjoy the dinner everyone has been slaving over for hours, Feyre.”

It was Feyre’s turn to sigh. “Do you promise you’ll eat something tonight?”

Azriel nodded his head.

Another sigh. “I suppose I’ll head back, then. Be safe please, Azriel. We love you. I love you. Remember that, okay?”

Azriel nodding again, swallowing a sob until he couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore. He finally reached your house, opening the beautiful door that you loved so much.

He loved that you’d had it custom made, wanting something to honor your Autumn heritage, so far from home. He closed it, running a hand along its surface.

You had loved everything fiercely, him included, even if he didn’t deserve it in any way.

You had loved your mystery books, your coffee, trying out new blends of tea you had made from herbs you’d grown in your small garden.

Then there were the things about him that you loved. His eyes, his hair. You always loved both of those. His hands… you had never shied away from them, in fact you had pulled them towards you, nuzzling your face into them whenever he was feeling insecure about them. You kissed every inch of them so often, Azriel had begun to love the scars, love the way you were able to make them beautiful.

Now though… he couldn’t think of them as anything but the hands that had sullied you, touching you after touching that other female.

Azriel made his way to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of vodka and your favorite, sapphire blue mug. He poured the liquid until the mug was nearly overflowing, and knocked back as much of it as he could managed in one go, a few drops trailing down his chin.

He regretted so many things in his life, but the way he had hurt you was the one he wished he could take back, at least trade his life for yours. You deserved to live, with your soft heart and open mind. Not him, with his unfaithfulness and betrayal of the worst degree.

His mate.

His mate!!!

He could hardly believe that six months had passed already, six months since that dreadful day.

Six months since your last kiss.

He could almost picture you now, as he walked into your bedroom. It had been on your bed, you were still naked from the earlier activities the two of you had indulged in. Azriel had just gotten his shirt on, and you made an adorable kissy noise, puckering your lips dramatically to draw him back to you. He hadn’t been able to resist, leaning back down and capturing your lips softly with his, tilting your chin up towards him gently with two fingers. It had been soft, sweet, all that he ever needed for the rest of his life.

But it was the last one. The last one, and he hadn’t even known it at the time.

And it was all. His. Fault.

Azriel sank down onto the bed, taking another large gulp of his drink. It was really kicking in now, he felt almost like he could sleep. Draining the rest of the cup, he placed it on the nightstand and laid down on his side of the bed. If he closed his eyes, he could almost trick himself into thinking you were there, sleeping beside him, almost hear your breathing and heart’s rhythm next to him.

He drifted off while clutching the pair of rings still around his neck, his heart still beating that broken, dying music that still sang your name.

Taglist: @j-pendragonx

[viktoriaashleyyx]

You know how some people say that they could never forgive Tamlin and if he does get a redemption arc they will just "roll their eyes" the entire time?

That's exactly how I feel about RhySAnd.

I drugged through 2 books waiting for this motherfucker to at least apologize for humiliating, drugging and SAing Feyre so bad she vomited nightly. I cannot forget how he treated her UtM. They wouldn't be together if he hadn't twisted her broken arm to get her to agree to a deal. It's beyond forgiveness.

They say that Tamlins trauma doesn't excuse how he treated Feyre, NEITHER DOES rhySAnds!!!

Well "he had reasons" so did Tamlin.

I would take yall more seriously if yall weren't such big hypocrites.

[copypastus]

@officialrhysandweek Day 5 - Survivor

What can I say? Any male is at their hottest when they're at their bloodiest and most beat up.

@taymartiart this one's for you <3

[harrystylesfan2686]

Alone

Pairing: no one really.

Summary: Reader starts to feel left out in her own family...

Warnings: Neglection. Suicide thoughts. Self harm (in detail) please go back if any of these bother you. Your mental heath matters more.

A/N: I think I need therapy too...

Masterlist Part 2(Azriel) Part 2(Eris)

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Ever wondered what it's like to be alone?

It's a game, really. A game of utter self degradation. A game where there are only two players, you and your mind. A game where you never truly win and you always have to keep playing because your brain never tires.

A game which no one else realizes your playing until you lose and it's too late.

It's the game you have been playing ever since the Archerons joined the inner circle. You love them all, honestly. Thier different personalities was the first thing that drew you to them. You admir all three of them but the one thing you hate is how you got left alone after their involvement to your life.

Before them, you all relied on all of you for company and support. Now, everybody has their own person.

Rhysand has Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, Azriel has Elain, and Mor and Amren have found thier partners too but in case they aren't present, Mor and Amren, as crazy as it sounds, rely on each other. Just like that, everybody has a person to go home to, to come back safely for, to turn to for comfort.

You don't have anyone.

You hate going home because your bed is always empty. You hate going on missions because you know no one would be worrying about you every minute you gone. You hate celebrations because you have no one to dance with, to drink with, to end the day with.

You love family dinners. Even though you never get a chance to speak, even though you never talk to anyone, even though no one notices your presence. You love family dinners and meetings because it's the only time youre not alone.

It's doesn't matter if you're lonely, at least you aren't alone.

But in the game you're playing with yourself, after a while, you get too tired to challenge back with same force. You don't push back the mean thoughts your mind throws at you as insults. You listen to them, compare them to your situation and realise, you've been trying to win for nothing.

You slowly stop trying to protect yourself all together.

The first time you didn't go to a family dinner, you thought you would regret it later but you didn't, instead you felt glad that you didn't go because no one had come to get you, no one came to ask why you didn't show, no one cared about you enough to think why you didn't go.

So you stopped going at all.

You stopped doing everything with you 'family' and prefered being left alone.

You only met them when you had a mission together or anything related to work.

Just like that, today you had gone to one of the Illyrian camps at Rhys orders. He got report saying things haven't been going as they should there and wanted you to go check. But on your way back you had been ambushed by a group of six men wanting to kill you in the camp, they couldn't of course but you did come out of the fight with a large sward wound on your left side.

All you wanted to do was go home, rest, tend to your wound and sleep. You can give the report to Rhys tomorrow.

You let out a grunt and step in your house, immediately tense seeing a shadow of a person move the dark room. Your hand placing itself in your dagger straped to your thigh, you other hand on the left side of your waist pressing on your wound.

"Relax, it's just me." A familiar voice fills the silence as the fae lights turn on and Rhysands face becomes visible. You sigh in relief and furrow your eyebrows,"What you doing so late in my house?" You nearly snap, but hold back as respect for your high lord.

"You came late you were suppose to be here two hours ago." For minute it feels like he cares for you, and you allow yourself to believe that he was worried for you but you fantasy shatters the second he opens his mouth again. "You were supposed to deliver your report two hours ago. You know how important this is, I have other things to do too." His voice sharp as he scolds you.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I got attacked while leaving, it took time to fight them of. It was six against one but well I managed to survive, eh?" Rhysand's scowl deepens. "Tell me what happened there now."

Your eyes closs for a second whem you feel dizzy. "Look, how about you give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I also have a wound to–," You try to say but he cuts you off saying,"I don't have more time. Tell me right now what happened so I can get started on fixing things, then you can have all the time to fresh up as you want. My office, now." He doesn't leave much to room to argue and winnows you to his office.

You sigh and start speaking, repeating everything you noticed in the camp as Rhysand listens and writes down the report. Near the end, you feel another wave of dizziness hit you and put your head down to rest it against the backrest of your chair and groan when you feel pain shoot up from your injury from the movement.

Rhysand finally notices the source of your pain and his eyes flare,"You're hurt?" You scoff. "Yes. That's what I was trying to tell you before you winnowed us here."

"I didnt notice it. I'm sorry, you should go tend to it." He quickly dismisses you, finally letting you go back to your house.

As you look at yourself in the mirror, thinking how filthy and hideous you seem, you grit your teeth. Of course no one notices you. Look at you. You are ugly and filled with dirt and scars all over your body.

How could anyone look at you when you can't even look at yourself.

Your gaze falls to your wound, the big cut that spread from under you left breast to the start of your thigh. If was deep enough to bleed you dry.

Would anyone even notice if you did? If you don't heal and let the injury bleed you dead. Would anyone know that you were gone? That your body layed unmoving in the bathroom floor. How long would it take for someone to find you? Who would find you? Probably Rhysand when he needs you for his next mission.

You eye your dagger that you unshielded on your way in the bathroom. How long would it take for you to bleed out? Hours? Days? You didn't want that. That was too much. You don't think you can handle that much pain constantly. Maybe if you took that dagger and deepen your cut, you would bleed out faster. Maybe you would have a faster death. Sure it would hurt but at least you would be gone before someone found you.

You would be free. Free of the loneliness. Free of the feeling like you were a burden in everyone's life. Free of wanting Someone to care for you the way you see everyone else care for their loved ones. You would finally be at peace.

You gasp and blink out the terrible thoughts. Breathing heavy, you search for the cotton and Healing cream in the cupboards. You groan out with you don't find any of them.

You turn back to the mirror. Maybe your brain is right. Maybe this is a sign from Mother herself telling you to not let the wound heal and die right here, right now. Your gaze finds the knife again, eyeing the sharp edge. Would it really be that bad?

Your hand grips the handle of the dagger, bringing it closer to the cut. You let the cold mettle edge scrap the skin, an inch afar the start of the cut. The sharp edge slicing through skin like paper, leaving a line of crimson red blood, seeping out of the newly cut skin.

Your eyes widen as you observe yourself, keeping the knife near the cut but not touching it entirely.

It's... mesmerizing. The way blood slowly comes out of the skin, the small and steady lines created by your dagger are engrossing. And the pain, the pain is hypnotizing, slowing raising to the rest of your body. Your body feels electrified, there's snips of pain tingling through out your entire body, your ears buzzing with excitement. Your hands are shaking and eyes bluring but all you can focus on is how much you want to do this again. Feel your skin open beneath you knife again. Feel the pain that slowing raises with each extra inch of cut.

Oh gods. What have you done?

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[thehighladywrites]

- “if it is so wrong, why does it feel so good?”

pairing: stalker/perv!azriel x reader, nesta, elain and feyre mentioned

summary: stalking and perving is azriel’s favorite activities. What happens when you finally drop the oblivious mask and confront him

warnings: dark content, stalking, perving (on literally everyone), breaking and entering, stealing panties, az having a darker side, getting turned on by your fear, az eating you out, reader being bold and hot as fuck omg,

amara’s note: okay this is very short bc it’s my first time writing a dark fic. Also i hope you like it and pls read the warnings.

Azriel knows he is some sort of sick freak. He knows he should resist his sinful glances at Feyre when she's cozied up on Rhysand's lap. He flexes a little extra just to spark Nesta's desires, fully aware of her fantasies. And as for Elain, well, let's just say he's playing a forbidden game of spying while she bends over to plant her greens.

Azriel's is extremely aware he shouldn't be harboring forbidden desires or indulging in the secret pleasure of stalking someone as seemingly innocent as yourself.

Azriel, the ultimate mastermind, keeps everyone guessing. Who would suspect the quiet, brooding and publicly respected spymaster to be a closeted perv and sick stalker? It's his most guarded secret hidden beneath the intimidating exterior.

Little does Azriel know, you're fully aware of his perverse behavior—his wandering eyes and spying shadows. It surprises you that no one has figured him out yet; after all, it seems quite apparent, doesn't it?

You don’t miss his lurking shadows following you around for hours. A regular fae would’ve missed it but not you. You’ve grown accustomed to him and his ways. You know him better than anyone else and you definitely know of his stalker tendencies.

Azriel believes he's smooth, avoiding outright ogling. Instead, he strategically glances at you during training with Cassian and while sharpening his weapons, subtly appreciating the way your body moves.

Pervert azriel walks up to you, complimenting your form, claiming while it’s good there’s something you need to fix. You don’t mind if he needs to grab your waist while fixing your pose right? And of course you’ll excuse him if he accidentally brushes against your boobs and ass. I mean he just wants to help you perfect your form!

He watches you walking through Velaris from the shadows, always hiding one of his shadows with you. He tells himself that he does it for your safety. Who knows, you might be attacked and he needs to be ready.

He absolutely doesn’t want to hear how much of a hypocrite he is for also stalking you in the safety of your home aswell.

Azriel steals your panties, silently breaking into your room as he looks through your drawers, skimming through the collection of panties. He promises himself it’s the last time, though he’s made the same pledge seven times before.

Azriel's stalking tendencies lead him to roam through your belongings, touching everything to become familiar with your world. He goes to your vanity, picking up your perfumes, and indulges in the forbidden pleasure of smelling the one thing he desires most—you.

Lying in your bed, his head on your pillow, he starts shifting in the sheets, inhaling more of your scent. He revels in the trespass and wrongness of being in your bed, knowing that you might catch a hint of his own scent lingering there, a twisted thought crossing his mind that it could confuse, frighten, or even arouse you.

His cock swells at the thought of you scared, heart beating fast, trying to place who the scent belongs to.

He looks around and finds one of your shirts on the bed and picks it up to his nose.

Then he does the one thing he swore he would never stoop to. He pulls out his already hard cock and strokes it while inhaling your scent from the shirt.

—

He has timed you and learned your schedule hence why he now knows that you’ll be in the shower for the next twenty minutes, giving him the perfect opportunity for his perverse activities. He’ll pick up the laciest most intricate pair, keeping it in his room as some sort of trophy with the other stuff he has taken from you. No one can enter into his room anyways, it’s safe…

Pervert Azriel looks through the little crack in your door as you stand there posing infront of a mirror while wearing pretty much nothing. A lacy little lingerie set as you touch your body, hands traveling all over your tits, waist, ass then up through your hair as you spin around, admiring yourself.

You know Azriel is standing at your door, he isn’t really all that subtle with his hand down his pants as he jerks off at the sight of you.

It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll back into the back of your head, fucking gods, he’s pathetic.

You wanted to fuck him for the longest time. He could just ask you to fuck and you’d say yes yet here he is thinking he’s slick as he pervs on you. Even with all that in mind, there’s a sick, twisted adrenaline rush spreading through your body at the thought of the esteemed and highly respected spymaster doing something so dark and wrong like this.

“I know you're there, Az. Come out,” you say, a wicked smile forming on your face as you plot to utterly humiliate him.

His entire body freezes and Azriel cautiously emerges from the shadows, realizing he's been caught. You maintain that mischievous grin, ready to unleash your plan. The air thickens with anticipation as the confrontation unfolds.

“Az?”

He looks like he’s about to jump out of the nearest window as he looks at you through the mirror.

“Yes?”

“Why are you such a disgusting little pervert? Here I am trying on some clothes and you’re just perving on me. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean I could be super afraid and you wouldn’t have any remorse? Who does something like that?”

Azriel's face heats up at the mocking question, flushing as he tries to respond.

“Az, I asked you a question,” you assert, walking over to him. His embarrassment is palpable as he apologizes, rambling about not knowing what came over him, begging you not to tell anyone.

You already know the answer, and a knowing smile plays on your lips as he seeks forgiveness.

“You’ve done a very bad thing, Azriel. Bad people deserve to be punished. You of all people understand that, right?”

Pushing him back onto one of the sofas in your room, you creep closer, leaning over to whisper. Looking down at him, you place your hand on his cheek, letting your nails dig in a little.

“I think you deserved to be punished.”

Azriel's heart raced, fearing exposure for his hidden activities. Was this it? Would you punish him by revealing his actions to everyone?

Before he could plead for forgiveness, you stood up, walking back to your bed and beckoning him over with two fingers.

As he approached, ready to sit, you extended your leg, placing your foot on his stomach, halting him in his tracks..

“Not so fast,” you assert, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “The bed is reserved for me. You can kneel on the floor.”

Azriel complies, gracefully sinking to his knees. His gaze meets yours, his beautiful eyes revealing a mixture of submission and desire.

“You’re going to eat my pussy. If you manage to make me cum, I won’t tell anyone about your disgusting behavior, understand?”

He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Was he really about to taste you? About to experience the fantasy he'd daydreamed about every single day? He nods, but a disapproving tsk follows.

“I need more than a nod, Azriel. Do you understand?”

A quick, “Yes, I understand,” escapes his lips.

You can't help but smile at the swiftness of his compliance.

“That’s good. Now, I’ll be taking off my bra and panties and they’re very expensive and new so they better not go missing.”

Azriel affirms his understanding and then proceeds to drool over the way you slowly strip infront of him before you spread your legs and tell him to start.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge as he dips his head down to run his tounge up and down your slit, tasting you before playing with your clit.

You gasp in pleasure, letting out moans as your hands find their way to his hair, urging him to keep going.

Azriel’s hands dig into your thighs that are currently smushing his head. He decides to let you continue, telling himself that if he dies like this, he'd go down as the happiest person in history.

“T-that’s it, right there.”

A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel two of his fingers enter you. Your hands grab his dark soft hair as he started pumping his fingers, relishing at the way your soaking cunt is squelching and squeezing him.

You whimper at the way his thick fingers strecth you out then curl against that secret spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to slowly fuck yourself on them, eager for more of him.

“You taste even better than I imagined, fuck.”

His desperate voice only spurred you on.

It doesn’t take much longer for that feeling to build up in your stomach, the tight cord eventually snapping. You squeeze and throb around his fingers as you cum hard, letting out whines and mumbles.

Azriel helps you ride out your high, memorizing every facial expression in case this is the last time you ever let him this close again.

He pulls out his fingers and lick them clean then goes back and licks your pussy clean.

You let out a giggle at the sight before you, casting him a look of fake sympathy as you pull yourself together.

“Well, look at that. Seems like I’ll be keeping your secret after all. I mean, what a shame to loose such a good little pussy eater, right? I might just keep you around.”

You beckon him to rise, tossing your underwear onto the sofa before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Glancing back at his flushed face and heavy breathing, you offer a secret smile.

“Who knows, next time I might even let you fuck me.”

Turning around, you leave him to his thoughts as the shower starts.

Azriel stands there for a moment, his desire evident. Unable to resist, he takes your panties and bra, always craving something of yours.

He promises to himself that he won't do it for an eighth time before hurrying back to his room, to finally help himself

🏷️ taglist: @stasiereads @clairebear08 @daycourtofficial @historiaxvanserra @rowaelinsdaughter @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @redbleedingrose @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay

[dippedinmelancholy]

TW: Discussions of SA, consequences, and shit men interacting with women who have been sexually abused. I've been toying with this for a while, trying to find the answer for it on my own but I just can't seem to. Why does SJM treat SA so horrendously? All of her series have this underlying theme feminism, finding your strength, fighting back, ect. Which, on the surface, is amazing. Except multiple women have histories of either straight up SA'd or have endured something that is very much an allegory of SA. Lydia - CC3 Lydia is repeatedly SA'd by her partner, something she doesn't fight back against as it's part of her double agent business. This is an on screen example of very near martial rape. He's violent with her, only put off by her monthly cycle. Ruhn gets hints of it, but there's no denying his knowledge of her pain and her many years of abuse. The first time he and Lydia connect as a couple sexually, despite having this knowledge, he shows her no softness. Lydia herself has no issue with this. There's no sensual connection, no refutal that they don't need sex to care for one another, they don't need sex to seal their relationship. No character development for Ruhn who up to this point has been a borderline sex crazed frat boy. The sex is intense, and though it lacks hard violence, the undertones of ferocity are there. Nesta - ACOSF

Nesta is a victim of SA, something only Cassian has picked up clues on. First, she is assaulted by her fiance of the time. Then, she is violently assaulted by the Cauldron, because she fights back. If she had been a "good girl" and just taken the Cauldron's attention rather than fight back and try to escape, her abuse would not have been so bad, something that very easily and so very clearly translates to real world victims. Then, she is assaulted by the Kelpie. He wishes to make her his "bride", dragging her to a watery death where dozens of women before have died as well. It isn't spelled out for us, but any person with two brain cells can put it together. What do monstrous men do with their brides? What is the role and purpose of a bride? He too assaults her, and plans to rape her. Then, she encouters Lanthys who plans to make her his Queen to rule the world, and forces images into her mind, showing her exactly how he will take and taste her body. Four moments of sexual assault. Three from other worldly, mind breaking evil entities. The Cauldron is just as vile as the other two, corrupted by the Asteri and taking pleasure in hurting Nesta. Again, again, again, Cassian is confronted with instances of Nesta being violated. Again, again, again, he knows the way she has been sexually assaulted, sees how she tries to cope and fails horribly. And yet, how does every sexual encounter go? He is intense. He is borderline violent sexually, though he'd never raise a hand to her. He has no care to give her softness. He practically punishes her for calling it "just sex" despite her being a 20 something scared woman who's never had an impactful relationship where her body wasn't something to be traded and yielded like a fortune of gold, and him being a 500 yr old man who is supposedly supposed to understand women and be more emotionally mature/understanding than Rhysand or Azriel. The men, Fenris/Rhysand - ToG

Fenris and Rhysand too suffer from SA, both from the hands of powerful, cruel mistresses they are "serving" to protect someone they love. These two men are granted space to hurt, to cry, to not know what they want. The fandom in turn is soft with them. The text is sexually soft with Rhysand, though there's no sexual focus with Fenris (which is completely fine, his friendship with Aelin is powerful enough to me). Feyre is soft and understanding with Rhysand, as she should be, yet I can't help but notice this very obvious and stark difference. The Difference

Why are the women treated and written this way? Why are they given no softness, no space to not know what they want? Why are they not given partners who have the bare minimum sense to not rail them like a pornstar? As a victim of SA myself, I'm very much in favor of women reclaiming their sexuality and finding power in it. But there's no journey for these women, no healing. They simply are 'fine' in every sexual moment for their partners, because why would a woman be anything but a wet, willing hole for their partners? Moments after Cassian breaks Nesta wholly, when she was seconds away from jumping from the side of a cliff, he fucks her. She breaks down, sobbing and utterly alone, abused emotionally and physically by HIS HAND, and he fucks her. He tells her it will be fine because he suffered hundreds of years ago, and look, he's great! After all, half of the fandom collectively agrees Nesta should be grateful for being boiled alive, retorn and violated on every possible level. All because she happens to be cruel at times, she isn't a perfect victim, and why should she have any pain when Cassian is right there? All that matters is his wet cock.

There is a constant underlying theme here, across all of the series, all focused on the women, and an obvious opinion and writing habit. If you brush this off as 'it's just a book', I would like to remind you that most of the ACOTAR fanbase are women, young women who are often in their first or second relationship and just now understanding what they should accept in their relationships. It makes me very concerned for Gwyn, who has the most violent and tragic SA history. It makes me concerned for all women who don't see the underlying issues here. At it's core though, it just makes me sad.

[dee-writes-angst]

SPRING (Chapter One)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY on a mission to discuss peace negotiations with the Illyrians, you find yourself in a tricky spot without your best friend. (part two is up)

CONTENT WARNINGS descriptions of injuries, pain, torture, depression, and misogyny. This one is dark, please ensure you are feeling comfortable and safe.

AUTHORS NOTE today I woke up and chose violence apparently. This fic is unbelievably long and It's been a while, so I thought I would appease you while I continue to work on the second part of the mark fic. I hope you all enjoy. <3

In the gentle embrace of spring, as nature stirred from its winter slumber, the world seemed to come alive in a symphony of sights and sounds. The air grew lively with vibrant colors of blossoming trees, their delicate leaves unfurling, whispering hope upon the wind. Each leaf and flower, each insect and animal all seeming to dance in the sunlight and bask in new chances of growth. It was truly a testament to beauty and resilience, to life.

But, amidst the beauty of renewal, there lingered a sense of sorrow, a deep heaviness that hung in the air like a dark cloud just breaching above the horizon. Spring had brough not only the promise of new beginnings, but a painful reminder for all that had been lost and forgotten. And as rain fell softly upon the earth, calling to mother nature to gift the soil with fertility, memories of pain consumed you. The gentle patter of raindrops against the earth did not serve to remind you of new beginnings, but set a somber soundtrack in your thoughts, a melancholy melody that echoed the ache you felt in your heart.

As pollen filled the air, coloring the wind and triggering allergies that left you sneezing and sniffling, you couldn't help but feel trapped within the confines of your own sorrow, isolated from the prospering world around you. Vibrant colors and sweet scents did nothing to comfort, rather building a prison of sorts, confining you to the memories of the person you once were, of the life you used to lead.

(Springtime, The Illyrian Mountains)

As you and Azriel ventured into the heart of the Illyrian steeps on a mission, the harsh terrain mirrored the cold, hardened demeanor of its inhabitants. The people of this unforgiving land, with their anger and hostility, were the only semblance of family you had ever known. Yet, their begrudging tolerance of your existence only fueled the resentment that simmered within you. How could you ever understand a people who would dare to strip you of your wings, your very essence of freedom, as a cruel display of dominance and worthlessness?

"Interesting how Rhys sends the two of us, who would sooner see the Illyrians burn, for peace negotiations," you remarked with a bitter chuckle, nudging Azriel to draw him from his thoughts. Azriel, your closest friend for three centuries, had become a steadfast companion since that fateful night when you first crossed paths with Mor at Rita's. Though the details of that encounter remained a blur, the bond forged between you and Azriel stood firm.

"Cass is stuck with Nesta. She’s been feeling off lately, she senses something stirring, but isn’t sure what. Elain shared her sentiments," Azriel grumbled, his countenance slipping into the stoic mask of the shadowsinger, overshadowing his gentle and kind-hearted nature that was generally reserved for you and the rest of your chosen family.

"So, Rhys sent the only other two Illyrians he knows. How convenient for us," you retorted, your wings instinctively folding in close as you navigated the lifeless streets of the Illyrian camp. By now, they had learned better than to challenge your presence for too long.

"Just stick close," Azriel advised, his voice tinged with caution. “There are still many men who wish to see you wingless and under their influence.”

You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated huff but nodded in agreement. "Stubborn bastards," you muttered under your breath.

In hindsight, perhaps openly disparaging them while walking through their camp wasn't the wisest choice. But they were well aware of your disdain for them, just as you knew the depths of their animosity towards you. They had cast you out like prey when you were just a child, and you had since made it your life's mission to rise above them in every way possible. The mere thought of your superiority grated on them to no end, and you reveled in it.

Azriel chuckled softly, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. He nudged you back in the side as you approached Lord Devlon’s home, the both of you sharing a sullen look of understanding before Azriel knocked.

The response was immediate, Lord Devlon swinging the door open with a scowl that mirrored Azriel's own grim expression. "I don't care that you force us to let our women keep their wings," he spat, his tone dripping with disdain, "but I will not negotiate with one. Especially her."

Azriel's growl rumbled deep in his chest, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I don’t give a fuck about your preferences," he snapped, his voice laced with barely restrained anger.

You sighed, your wings flaring behind you in agitation as you shot a withering glare at Devlon. Barely missing Azriel's own, which mirrored your movements, his solidarity unwavering.

Turning to Azriel, you spoke with a sense of resignation. "Go on. I'll catch up with Emerie and a few others."

Though reluctant to part ways, Azriel relented, “Fine,” he growled, knocking his forehead gently against yours. It was a gesture you both shared, a silent reassurance that you were never truly alone in the face of adversity. With a nod of encouragement, you turned and walked off Devlon’s steps, making your way back into town to seek solace in the company of the only Illyrian, aside from your bat boys, whom you found more than tolerable.

After sharing a drink with Emerie and catching up for a few hours, you felt a tug of responsibility urging you to check in on Devlon and Azriel. Yet, deep down, a part of you secretly hoped that Azriel had taken matters into his own hands and dealt with the pompous leader once and for all, though you dared not voice such thoughts aloud.

As you stepped outside, the tranquility of spring in the mountains enveloped you like a comforting embrace. The harsh winds of winter had given way to a gentle, cool breeze that whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. It was a peaceful scene, if one could ignore the harsh realities of life in this unforgiving land, and the unspeakable horrors inflicted upon its women.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to bask in the crisp, cool air, a stark contrast to the warmer weather of Velaris. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the tranquility of the moment, they struck.

It happened so quickly, the ambush catching you off guard. Before you could react, a blow to the back of your head sent you reeling, darkness descending upon you like a heavy shroud. In the blink of an eye, consciousness slipped away, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless against the unknown assailants. If you had had the chance to process the situation, perhaps embarrassment would have crept in at being caught off guard so easily. But the darkness of unconsciousness claimed you swiftly, dragging you down into its depths before you could even muster a response.

"Wake up, whore," a voice hissed in your ear, jolting you from the haze of unconsciousness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, the harshness of the voice sending a shiver down your spine. Blinking against the darkness that enveloped you, you felt a heavy weight pressing down upon your head—a bag, thick and suffocating, that obscured your vision and when you moved—thrashed— against the seat you were in, you quickly realized that you were bound.

Shit.

The bag over your head muffled your senses, leaving you completely disoriented and vulnerable to your captors. Panic surged through you at this revelation, causing a sudden spark of energy to send you thrashing against your restraints, deep realization sinking in your stomach with sickening dread.

The voice that had startled you awake, one that sounded awfully familiar, chuckled darkly, a deep, cruel sound that sent shivers cascading down your spine. “No need to struggle, sweetheart,” he mocked, “you’re not going anywhere.”

Your heart hammered against your chest as you strained to make sense of your surroundings, to recognize even the slightest detail, but all you could make out was the stench of damp earth and mildew. Fear clawed its way down your throat, leaving deep gauges as you tried to keep your composure, to get out of this place, this nightmare, before it was too late.

“Where am I?” You growled, your voice heavy with defiance as you demanded your location, only a slight lilt of fear made its way past your throat.

“You're not the one making demands here,” he sneered, tone dripping with pure malice. He must have been an Illyrian. No one else would have the gall to try something like this, either too afraid of you, or too afraid of Azriel’s wrath. Just the thought of him filled you with a desperate longing, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume you.

As you struggled to piece together your next move, the sound of footsteps approached, echoing ominously in the darkness. You braced yourself for what was to come, steeling your resolve to survive whatever horrors awaited you.

The bag was roughly pulled from your head, and you blinked against the sudden onslaught of light, squinting to make out the figure before you. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with your captor, Lyris, who you used to train with as a kid, his eyes cold and calculating as he loomed over you with a wicked grin.

As the realization of your fate settled like a heavy stone in your chest, Lyris approached, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He wielded a gleaming dagger in his hand, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the chamber. Your heart hammered in your chest as fear gripped you like a vice, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to flee, but the chains binding you rendered you helpless.

With a cruel smirk, Lyris loomed over you, his eyes alight with sadistic delight. "Time to finally take what's mine, what those bastard whoresons took from me so many years ago," he sneered, the dagger poised menacingly in his grasp.

Your breath caught in your throat as the blade descended, slicing through the air with a sickening sound that made your blood run cold. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the searing pain that was sure to follow.

The first cut came swift and merciless, a sharp agony tearing through your being as the blade bit into your flesh. A strangled cry tore from your lips, the sound echoing off the walls of the chamber as your world exploded into a whirlwind of pain and terror.

“Look at these pretty wings,” Lyris hummed, his voice filled with the rasp of adrenaline. “I cannot wait to hang them on the wall of our home. To keep you quiet, pliant, and filled with my children; as you should have been from the start.” His voice, one you used to cherish, one that reminded you of the little boy who would sneak away to help you, to train you against the backs of his mentors, was now torture.

But the torment did not end there. With ruthless precision, Lyris continued to wield his blade, each stroke bringing fresh waves of agony that threatened to consume you whole. You writhed and thrashed against your restraints; your cries of anguish lost in the darkness of the chamber. Through tear-blurred vision, you caught a glimpse of your wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, now mangled, bloodied and broken beyond recognition. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you watched helplessly, the realization of your loss hitting you like a physical blow.

And as the last remnants of your wings fell away, severed and discarded like worthless scraps of flesh, a hollow emptiness settled in the pit of your stomach. You were no longer whole, no longer the person you once were. You had been robbed of your identity, your essence, and in their place remained only the cruel scars of your torment.

In the oppressive darkness of your captivity, each passing moment stretched into an eternity, the weight of your mutilation a relentless burden threatening to crush not just your body, but your very spirit. Bound and helpless, you lay upon the cold stone floor, every breath a labored struggle against the suffocating silence that surrounded you. The air itself felt heavy with despair, pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air, for relief, for any semblance of hope.

Your limbs, once strong and nimble, now felt heavy and leaden, shackled by chains that dug into your flesh with cruel insistence, leaving angry welts in their wake. Each movement sent a jolt of searing pain shooting through your battered body, a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

Amidst the shadows that danced like malevolent phantoms in the night, a soft rustle of wings broke through the oppressive stillness, the whisper of shadows weaving through the air like an ancient, mournful melody. Your heart surged in your chest as a familiar presence enveloped the room, a warmth that banished the icy chill that had settled deep within your bones, offering a glimmer of solace in the midst of the suffocating darkness.

Azriel.

With a grace honed by centuries of training, Azriel moved with silent determination, his movements a symphony of lethal precision and raw emotion. Each step he took seemed to reverberate through the chamber, echoing the pounding of your heart as he closed in on your captors, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that bordered on desperation.

The sound of steel meeting flesh rang out like a mournful dirge, punctuated by the anguished cries of your assailants as they fell before Azriel's relentless onslaught, their tormentors becoming the tormented. The room erupted into chaos, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat as Azriel moved with a fluidity that bordered on otherworldly, his wings unfurling like a dark, protective cloak as he danced amidst the shadows. It was a sight to behold, a dance of death performed with a grace and precision that belied the brutality of its execution, a testament to the depth of his devotion and the strength of his love.

Through the haze of pain and fear, a surge of gratitude washed over you, a profound sense of relief that threatened to overwhelm your senses. As Azriel approached, his hand outstretched in silent invitation, you reached out to him, your fingers trembling with exhaustion and relief, your heart overflowing with a love and gratitude that defied words. In that moment, as his steady presence enveloped you, you knew that you were not alone in the darkness.

“Gods, what did they do to you,” Azriel breathed, his own hands shaking as he helped you to your feet, the weight of your brokenness heavy in his arms. You swayed unsteadily, a marionette with severed strings, before collapsing against him, the pain of your loss too great to bear alone.

“Did-” You are cut off by a hiss of pain, the sharp intake of breath a dagger through your chest. You took a moment to collect yourself, the darkness at the edges of your vision threatening to engulf you. Azriel, a bastion of strength in the storm, gently guided you to the cold stone floor, his touch a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. “Did you kill him?” you managed to choke out, the words heavy with desperation and fear, each syllable a struggle against the encroaching oblivion.

“Who?” Azriel's voice was a low rumble, his grip on your hand grounding you in the present moment, a beacon of stability amidst the chaos that threatened to consume you both. Outside the confines of your enclosure, the sounds of chaos echoed in the air, a symphony of violence and retribution made in your honor.

“Lyris. Did you kill him?” Your voice wavered, the weight of your words a burden too heavy to bear alone. You felt lightheaded, the loss of blood draining your strength with each passing moment.

“Lyris? He was here?” Azirel's growl reverberated in the cavernous space, a primal sound that sent shivers down your spine. He was the only one you confided in about your history with the Illyrian male, the scars of your past laid bare before him.

You sniffled and sobbed, the floodgates of grief finally breaking as you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of your wings in the safety of Azriel’s presence. His arms wrapped around you, a shield against the storm raging within you, offering solace in the face of unspeakable loss.

“My wings?” you asked through sobs, the words a whisper against the backdrop of your anguish.

“Not here.” He whispered mournfully, his voice a lament for all that had been taken from you. You felt yourself deflate further, the realization settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. Your once friend, now tormentor, had escaped with the remnants of your shattered dreams, leaving you broken and bereft in his wake.

In the aftermath of your rescue, the pain that gnawed at your soul was not just physical but a deep, unrelenting ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of your being. With each labored breath, you felt the absence of your wings like a gaping wound, a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted upon you.

As Azriel guided you through the darkness, his presence a flickering candle in the void, you stumbled and faltered, your body racked with tremors of agony. Each step sent shards of pain shooting through your mutilated form, a relentless onslaught that threatened to consume you whole.

The absence of your wings was not just a physical loss but a spiritual one, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. Once a symbol of freedom and strength, they were now nothing more than cruel stumps, a mockery of what once was. With each beat of your heart, the pain pulsed like a funeral dirge, a haunting melody that echoed through the caverns of your soul. You longed to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all, but the darkness of your despair swallowed your cries before they could escape your lips.

And through it all, Azriel remained by your side, his presence a silent witness to your suffering. But even his steady presence could not chase away the shadows that threatened to consume you, leaving you adrift in a sea of despair.

As you emerged into the cool embrace of freedom, blinking against the harsh light of day, you felt a sense of emptiness wash over you—a hollow void that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The road ahead loomed dark and uncertain, a twisting labyrinth of pain and sorrow that threatened to swallow you whole.

[NEXT]

[ladymidnight-goesforth]

Seeing Red

The One and Only Amarantha, for @sjmvillainweek

"She took his eye as punishment. Carved it out with her own fingernail..." ~ A Court of Thorns and Roses, ch. 32

This originally started out as a "Who's the real Mad General" piece, but she's such a Queen, I had to add the horned crown. But no matter which way you look at it, absolutely no one does it like her. King of Hybern, who?

I am the artist, please do not repost. Thank you!

[retromotherfuckers]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

[sarawritestories]

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: Life isn't worth living without your mate by your side.

A/N: I'm making my angsty mood everyone else's problem. 😘 I also got misty eyed writing this

Content Warning: PLEASE READ CAUTIOUSLY Suicidal Ideation, Self Harm, suicide attempt, Death of a Main Character. Grief

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Title inspired by this song:

You couldn't escape him. Every where you turn, it was as though he was there. His scent, his clothes, his weapons it was suffocating. Cruel. Two years. You only had two years with Cassian before he fell in battle. Two years with your mate.

How cruel the mother was two years of stolen kisses, late night snacks, morning runs, and his constant need to have his arms around you. With him, you were safe, loved, and cared for.

You had begged him not to leave to stay home with you. He simply pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, "I promise to come home to you, Sweetheart." You sobbed as he pressed his lips to your and then kissed your tears away, "I am the General of the Night Courts armies. I have been to many battles and have always come home. I will come home to you sweet girl." Another soft kiss, "I love you."

With a wobbly lip, "And I love you. Be safe." You hand him the necklace that he gave you for solstice of an eight pointed star. He wrapped the chain around his neck and took to the skies.

When Rhys and Azriel returned, your eyes searched everywhere for flashes of red. Only to notice Cassian's brothers had streaks on their mud ridden and bloodied faces from where they shed their cheers. It was Rhys who held out his hand, and you hesitantly took it. He held your palm up and placed something cold in it when he moved his hand, the eight pointed star necklace caked in dirt, and blood stared back at you. Shock riddled your body as Rhys said in your mind, I'm so sorry, Darling

Shaking your head, you clung the necklace to your chest. You found it difficult to breathe as you reached through the bond. Calling out for him, only to find the other side empty. Hollow. Hands were on you as you collapsed to the floor and sobs overtook your body. Still pushing love down the bond, only to be met with cold, dark air where his warmth and love used to be. You screamed, "Cassian!" Over and over until your voice became dry and you ended up dehydrated.

Az scooped you in his arms and brought you to your bed where the faint scent of Cassian remained and a fresh wave of tears came. What if the smell faded? Would your memories of his smile, his eyes, his long, onyx hair be gone too. Az just sat and held your hand until your sobs turned into hiccups and exhaustion pulled you into sleep.

After two months, you were finding it hard to get out of bed. The necklace tucked to your chest, wearing one of his shirts, and you still reached out to the dulled golden string. You hoped that it was a bad dream.

Rhys and Az would alternate taking care of you, making sure you were fed and made sure you stayed hydrated they had a schedule and a pattern that you picked up on.

You had overheard them talking about trying to get you out and into society again. You barely saw the point, your mate was ripped away from you, and now, colors were dull, music fell flat, nothing was worth seeing without Cassian.

You sat up from your bed and sighed, and you wanted him hear in your arms in. You wished that he would appear again. You hung your head low because you knew that was wishful thinking and that he would never come back.

You pulled something out of the dresser on his side, trying to fight the tears as a fresh wave of his leather and Sandalwood scent flooded your nose. You headed to your bathroom, placing the Star pendant around your neck. Not noticing the tendril of black watching your movements. You whispered to the void, "Az, Rhys, Please forgive me. Mother, please take me home to my mate."

You took the knife, and pressed it to your skin, Az and Rhys hadn't noticed the faebane you stole from Rhys' office that you took in concentrated doses to slow your healing. You watched as the blood pooled against your wrist as you dug the blade deeper to drag down.

You heard the door slamming open and hurried footsteps to the bathroom, "Y/N!" Az shouted as he grabbed the knife from your hand had a shadow bring him a towel to wrap around the wound. He pressed your back to his chest and held you close whispering words your couldn't distinguish in your ear.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Three times and anger bubbled over. You began to thrash in his arms his strength out matched yours. "You bastard, I wanted to go home to my mate! I don't want to be here without him! Why would you do that? Let me die!" Your screams turned into cries, "I just want to die."

Rhys walked to face you, tears streaking his own face. "Darling. He wouldn't want that for you."

You sobs continued, "What about what I want?" Your voice cracked. You leaned your head back against Az shoulders. "Why did the mother have me meet my mate only to take him away. I only had two years. You both had centuries." The cries turned to whimpers, "It's not fair." Az began to rub soothing patters around your waist. "I wanted more time."

The two males had no words, so they both just sat on the floor with you and let you sob. Your constant murmuring of time stolen and wanting to be with Cassian.

And once you had cried yourself to sleep, did Az and Rhys have madja heal your arm and place you in Az's bed, both agreeing that you were not to be left alone for a while. The two males watched you sleep with a crease between your brows.

And even in your sleep, you tugged on the fading gold thread. Never knowing that somewhere in the afterlife, The General was desperately tugging back.

[potatoplace]

loml

Azriel x Reader

my tears ricochet (part 2)

Story Summary: You met Azriel nearly six years ago. Your mate. The one person you want to spend the rest of your life with. While the bond has not been fully accepted due to safety concerns, the two of you live a blissful life, regardless of the anxieties that plague you. But, what if they turned out to be true...?

Warnings: Suicide, angst, infidelity, anxiety/self worth issues, references to sex (nothing explicit)

Words: ~5.7k

Author's Note: dun dun. It has arrived! Please make sure to read the warnings, and skip this one if it'll trigger you too much. I am very happy with how it turned out, I hope you all enjoy as well. *slides tissues over to you* Here are some in case you need them...

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🩷💙

You were walking home from the Palace of Bone and Salt, grocery bags loaded in your arms, when you saw him- your mate. The bond snapped for you the moment you looked up from the cobblestones and met his gaze, his hazel eyes so intense, you knew it had snapped for him too.

Almost in a trance, the two of you walked towards each other meeting in the middle of the street, his night chilled mist and cedar scent washing over you.

An awkward pause, then with his massive, hulking wings, he lifted into the air, taking off in flight.

Away from you…

Your mate didn’t want you. You could feel the thread, tethering you to him even when you could no longer see him in the sky. Tears filled your eyes, and you began to speed walk home, wanting nothing more than to crawl into your bed and wallow in your misery.

And you did just that for three days, only leaving once to inform the owner of the shop you work at that you would not be in for the rest of the week.

Which had given you three days to ruminate, seeing as it had been Wednesday when the male had left your life as quickly as he had entered it.

You had gone over every possible reason as to why he might not want you.

First was the obvious, your appearance. While you had dressed nicely, in a cute, lilac sundress, you had forgone any makeup and doing your hair, aside from brushing it. Perhaps that was what sent him running, you never were one to see the beauty in yourself, why should your mate? Or maybe it was your scent, rain and apples, that had repulsed him so.

And if it wasn’t anything physical… Could he have already sensed how plagued by anxieties you are? Decided you were not even worth the trouble of introductions, or getting to know in the slightest bit.

Maybe he had a lover already, one he’d been with for decades. Or he never wanted a mate, never wanted to be tied down in such a permanent manner.

The list went on. Most of them about how you were unfit to be anyone’s mate, unworthy of being gifted something so rare.

Two weeks after you had returned to work, two weeks since a scent had been stuck in your brain, haunting your every waking moment, the male it belonged to showed up on your doorstep an hour after you had come home from your shift.

“I’m sorry,” he started as soon as you opened the door, leaning against the doorframe and blocking the inside from view. “I was a coward, and left before we could truly meet. My name is Azriel. What is yours, if you will allow me to know?”

Azriel. The Spymaster of the High Lord, so high above your ranking. Of course you aren’t worthy of him, you thought to yourself.

You tell him your name, and he repeated it with a soft smile, the sound of your name spilling from his lips something more sensual and intimate than you thought it ever could be, and you barely know the man.

Azriel, your heart supplied, repeating it over and over again, working it into your heartbeat so easily and perfectly, you knew that if he breaks the bond, you will be damaged beyond the limits of what you thought possible before.

But still, you need to know.

“Why did you come back?” You ask, almost dreading the answer.

Azriel looked you in the eyes and said with the utmost sincerity, “I would like to get to know you, Y/N.”

Instantly, a smile spread across your face, and you step back, opening the door wider to let him in. “I would like that as well, Azriel. You can come inside, if you’d like,” you offered, color rising to your cheeks.

He nodded his head, and stepped inside.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

5 Years Later

You awoke from a peaceful sleep, as you always do when Azriel is home.

Something about his scent, night chilled mist and cedar and oh, so perfect, set you at ease, soothing the anxieties that normally plague you throughout the day.

You rolled over, arms reaching for the warm body next to you, only to be met by cold sheets and empty space. A frown covered your face, and you rubbed your eyes.

It wasn’t uncommon for Azriel to slip away in the middle of the night, called away for his duties for the Night Court.

You were, however, hoping to wake up to your mate today, as the dawn had marked the fifth year since you had met- well, formally met, that is, knowing more about him than his scent and Illyrian heritage.

But, alas, matters of security were more important. You understand it well, knowing that is the reason he hasn’t accepted the bond yet, as happy as you are together.

That was one fear of yours that had come to fruition.

The lack of a permanent, unbreakable tether between you bothered you, yes, but knowing Azriel’s reasoning, and that it is not a permanent thing, made it bearable, worth the fears that sometime crept into your brain.

“Why won’t you accept the bond, already?” You ask, throwing your hands in the air, aggressive towards Azriel for the first time in your relationship. “It’s been a year, Azriel, what exactly is the hold up?!”

“I want to accept the bond!” He yelled back at you, anger lacing his tone. “But I have worried, every day of knowing you, that you could be stolen away from me, used against me in a sick game! I am terrified that I will wake up one day, and you will have been murdered in cold blood as a warning to this court! I do not want to lose you, Y/N! I do not want the reason for you to be harmed to be that I carry your scent no matter how long I’ve been away from you, until I know that you will be safe,” he finished, considerably more calm after having finally let you know his reasoning.

“And when will that be?” You seethed, a storm brewing under your skin. You may not have much magic, much power like your mate, but the electricity you can wield was begging to be let out.

Azriel sighed, taking his head in his hands. “I don’t know, babydoll. But I promise to you, within the decade, we will be fully mated, if you will still have me, knowing how much danger there is lurking around the corner,” he offered gently, attempting to placate you, and your dropped your hands back to your sides, rage leaving your body with each word coming from his lips. “I love you, so much it feels impossible to explain, but every day I will try my best to let you know the depth of my love for you, my sweet mate. If you will have me,” he finished, walking over to you and grabbing your hands gently.

You bit your lip, squeezing his hands tightly.

“Within the decade…? You promise?” You ask, glancing up at him through tear filled eyes.

“I promise to you, we will have a formal ceremony and party, and have the most wonderful, blissful frenzy, and be forever connected within ten years. You are the love of my life, babydoll.”

At his reassurance, you tilt your head up and kiss him softly, and after a moment Azriel deepened the kiss, coaxing you toward your shared bed.

You look to the bedside table, smiling when you see the folded piece of parchment resting there, your name written in Azriel’s elegant handwriting, as well as beautiful bouquet of roses, dark blue and a pale yellow in color.

“My love, I am sorry I had to leave in the middle of the night, on such an important day for the both of us, but Rhys requires my presence in the Hewn City for a few hours. I hope to be back before you wake, but in case I am not, I have prepared some coffee for you in your enchanted mug, and next to it is something I picked out for you to read until I return. I love you more than my shadows, more than my wings my dear. I think of you in every moment, every breath I take is for you. I will see you for breakfast, my mate.”

Your smile only grew as you read, your mate is such a thoughtful male. In the four years since you agreed to wait to be mated, he had, without fail, assured you of his love, either through notes he sent to you by shadows, or in person.

You sighed in contentment, and stretched before getting out of your bed, walking over to the bouquet and sniffing it, loving the gentle fragrance they emitted. You then threw on a dressing gown and padded into the kitchen, immediately catching sight of your pretty, dark blue mug that matched Azriel’s siphons, and book laying next to it.

You grabbed both and made for the cushioned bench in the bay window that faced the street, and settled in. Seeing the title of the book and author’s name, Faren Grey, you squealed in excitement. A mystery by him that you hadn’t read before! You eagerly began reading, occasionally sipping your coffee, a delicious mocha, until your mate walked in when you seventy pages in.

You instantly set your mug and book down and bounded over to him, flinging yourself into his open arms.

“Hello, babydoll.”

“Hello, honey,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. He doesn’t disappoint, meeting you halfway in a heated kiss. “I absolutey love the book! Where did you find it?!”

“I might have visited his house a few weeks ago to ask if I could have an advance copy of his newest work,” he admitted with a sheepish smile.

He is so cute. “Thank you, you are such an amazing mate! I love you.” You hugged him tighter as you said it, loving the way his arms squeezed you into him further as you did.

“I love you too, babydoll. Come on, let’s go get ready for a late brunch,” he dragged you back into your bedroom, right into the bathroom. He removed your silver dressing gown first, hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall. Next, he removed your soft, baby blue nightgown, leaving you in just the underwear matching it. He leaned around the corner and tossed it into your laundry bin, then turned back to you.

You were blushing, your nipples hardening in the cool air of the bathroom. He kneeled before you and hooked his fingers in the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them off your hips and down your legs. He tapped your left foot, coaxing you to lift it up. You did, then he repeated the action with the right foot. Once they were off, he dropped them onto the floor. He lowered his mouth to your navel, slowly kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs.

He tapped your legs and you parted them, and he went to lick a stripe up your center-

Your stomach rumbled.

Both of you laughed, locking eyes.

“After breakfast?” You suggested, your tone full of mirth.

“That sounds like a good plan, babydoll,” he laughed, rising to his feet. You undressed him quickly, your goal clear now: bathe as quickly as the two of you could manage without… wasting time… have a lovely breakfast, then come home and devour each other as dessert.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

A few hours later, you laid with your head on Az’s chest, listening to his deep, rhythmic breathing and hypnotic heartbeat. You could almost hear your name, beating in his chest.

“I made dinner reservations at Sevenda’s,” you whisper into his skin, knowing he’ll hear you no matter how quietly you say it.

“My favorite,” he sighs into your hair. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock. I figure we can take a nice walk along the Sidra, then pop into a store to pick up your gift before dinner,” you suggest, running your hand along his chest.

“That sounds wonderful, Y/N.” He smoothed his hands over your back, tracing his fingers along your spine. “What should we do in the meantime?”

You grinned, lifting your head to look at him. “I can think of a few things…” you said, trailing your hand down his abdomen.

“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you show me, babydoll?” He smirked down at you, trouble in his eyes.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

A few rounds later and after another bath, more leisurely and filled with soft, heated touches than the first, and the two of you were dressed and walking out of your door in the direction of the Sidra.

A worry that had been plaguing you recently came to mind as you looked out at the beauty of the river, Az’s hand clutched in yours. The High Lady, Feyre, had gifted you a painting last Starfall, given to you via Azriel. It was of the Sidra at night, your silhouette watching the stars above. You remembered the moment well, it was the night that you and Az had made it official and he had moved into your house. You had taken a walk along the Sidra, much like the one you were taking now, when a comet had flown overhead, and you watched with rapt attention, making a wish, that you and Az would be together forever.

So far that wish has come true, so, wonderfully true.

It wasn’t the painting that had bothered you, it was the fact that your mate has a family, but five years into your relationship, you had never met one of them, as far as you were aware.

“Why…” you hesitated, unsure if you should ask. But you needed to know, know if he was hiding you and ashamed of you. “Why haven’t I met your family yet?”

Az’s footsteps faltered for a moment. “I didn’t know that you wanted to meet them.”

“I’d like to, if that’s okay. It would be nice to know the people that you’ve talked so much about, put some names to faces.”

Azriel stopped, and as he still had a grip on your hand, you came to a halt in front of him, the turned to face him. “I’ll mention it to them before the next family dinner, make sure to save a spot for my lovely mate,” he said, punctuating it with a kiss.

“That sounds fine to me, Az. Now, let’s go get your gift,” you declared, pulling him by the hand towards the Palace of Thread and Jewels. In just a few minutes, you had arrived outside of a small, rundown shop. You pushed the door open, a bell jingling and alerting the shop owner to your presence.

“Ah, the beautiful Y/N, here to pick up your custom order, I presume?” He asked, already turning to the counter behind him to retrieve the dagger you had designed for Azriel.

“Yes please, Oswald. You can even present it to the Shadowsinger himself, I know how excited you were to learn it was for him,” you add, a teasing tone in your voice. You had no problem poking fun at him, having spent so much time with the male. You had given him over ten drafts of the dagger’s design, plus the two of you searching together for the perfect gems to go in the hilt and along the guard. You also had him make a special holster for the curved blade, wanting to make sure Azriel has everything he needs for it.

The older male brought it over, wrapped in a cloth to keep it a surprise.

“Happy anniversary, Azriel,” you said, pushing the gift towards him. He lifted the edges of the cloth, revealing the beautiful silver dagger with glittering sapphires and diamonds decorating it, and a wickedly curved end to the blade. The holster was beautiful as well, made of a pitch black leather, fire and tear proofed with an enchantment.

“It’s amazing, Y/N,” he said before hugging you, lifting you up and spinning you in a circle. You picked up the holster and fastened it around his waist, underneath the jacket he was wearing. “I love you so much, babydoll. Let’s go get dinner.”

“Thank you, Oswald. I’ll come again soon, I promise,” you said as Azriel led you out of the shop, a hand on your back guiding you all the way to Sevenda’s. The two of you had a delicious meal, and returned home to watch the stars on your patio. You drifted in his arms on the swing, his scent and heartbeat making you so comfortable you couldn’t help but drift off.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

About a week later on a Friday, you were going to your first ever family dinner with Azriel. You were nervous as could be, Azriel’s hand rubbing circles on your back doing little to calm your gut as you walked to the High Lord and Lady’s townhouse.

“Babydoll, they will love you. I promise. Just remember, not too many relationship details, or any kissing, I share everything about my life with this lot, no need to share all of you with them as well, my sweet mate.”

You nodded your head, still mildly uncomfortable with the thought of being unable to kiss him during their time here, but understanding that he isn’t one for public displays of affection made you agree to the plan. It was only in the last year that his soft kisses and loving hugs began to happen outside of the four walls of your shared home.

Still, even with the nerves, you were ready and excited to meet his family.

All too soon, the two of you approached the door of a cozy looking townhouse, a lovely looking garden attached in the back. Azriel raised his hand to twist the doorknob, but paused to look at you, a broad smile on his face. “You ready?” He asked gently, and you nodded in confirmation. He swung the door open, entering and pulling you inside by the hand, not giving you an opportunity to bolt, if the urge struck you.

The inside was absolutely lovely, decorated in a cozy fashion and looking well lived in. He pulled you further inside, and you passed a small sitting room before stopping in the dining room, people milling about while they set the table, or relaxed on the couches in the attached living room.

“Ah, you must be Y/N!” One of the females said, her soft lilac and pear scent washing over you pleasantly. “I’m Feyre, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!” She exclaimed happily, extending her hands to you, grasping yours in them, and Azriel walked off to say hello to one of the males in the kitchen, probably Cassian, if the large wings and dark red shirt he was wearing were any indicator.

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well, High Lady,” you say, anxiety running through you as you thought of the proper way to greet her, but she interrupted your thoughts quickly.

“Oh, none of that, you are welcome to call me Feyre,” she replied, her voice sweet and reassuring. “You are a part of our family, after all.”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding left you, the relief pouring into your veins. “Oh, we’ll then it’s very nice to meet you, Feyre. Azriel has told me so much about all of you, it will be nice to finally put faces to the names.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose some introductions are in order, hmm?” She asked, leading you over to the living room.

Everyone was so kind to you, and happy to finally meet you as well.

The one person you were most excited to meet, however, was Azriel’s best friend, Elain. And when you finally did, the breath left your lungs again as her beauty overtook you. She was classically beautiful, her delicate features and even more delicate frame a perfect combination to make one of the most stunning fae you had ever seen. Her jasmine and honey scent complimented her perfectly, and you almost through you had met her before based on her scent alone- but you knew you could never have forgotten a face such as hers.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Az talks about you so much to me.” Her face held a sweet smile, and her eyes were full of warmth as she looked over you. “I’d love to have tea with you some other time, if you’re open to it.”

You nodded your head immediately, hoping beyond hope that you would finally have a friend outside of your coworkers, who, while lovely, you sometimes wanted a break from to not discuss work. “I would love that, Elain. Sometime soon, I hope?”

She nodded her head, saying “Yes, would next Wednesday work for you? We could meet here or at a café, if you’d like.”

“The café next to the Sidra in the Palace of Bone and Salt has a wonderful selection, if that works for you,” you suggest, internally celebrating when she nods her head again.

“That sounds like a wonderful time, it’s a date.” And with that, she walked away from you to continue setting up the table, now filled with various dishes that all smelled heavenly.

The dinner passed quickly, your undercurrent of anxiety constantly soothed by Az’s shadows caressing your legs and pooling around your ankles. It was nice to see him interact with them, see how they brought out different facets of his personality than you usually do. Especially Elain, they made little jokes between them every now and then, snickering softly to themselves.

Everyone was kind to you, yes, but you still felt… you still feel like you stick out, as though you don’t belong. Here you are, sitting among some of the most powerful fae, nothing but a shop clerk with a mild amount of lighting magic running through your veins.

Of course you couldn’t help but feel like you’re only here because of your bond to Az, because, well, you are.

Someone like you would never have earned themselves an invitation to the High Lord and Lady’s residence, let alone eat a fantastic, amicable meal with them without the tear between you and Azriel. Maybe that was why he had waited so long to introduce you to them. He already knows how inferior you feel to him, your self-worth making you feel like the Mother had made a mistake in pairing you together, as ecstatic as you are to be bonded to him. He probably doesn’t want you to feel any lesser.

Your thoughts continued like that through dessert, no amount of Azriel’s shadows’ touches soothing you now. What you need was a hug from your mate, maybe even just a peck on the cheeks.

But you could wait. You could wait until the two of you are retreating back to your home or have the affection you crave from your mate, if that will keep him comfortable.

So you do, attempting to do subtle breathing exercises to calm your mind. It helps a little, but it isn’t until you’re in the cooling air of Velaris that you begin to settle.

“Do you think they liked me?” You ask in a small voice as the two of you continue your leisurely pace back home.

“Of course, babydoll. What’s not to love?”

You exhale heavily, sleepiness crashing into your bones after being worried for so long. “Nothing, you just know how… you know how I struggle sometimes, being so plain in comparison to you.”

Azriel halted in his movements, and you turned to look at him.

“Nothing about you is plain, or simple. I love you for who you are, and the force of your love is more than enough to topple armies, my love. You are extraordinary,” he proclaims, wrapping you tightly in his arms for a few moments. You gently push away to look up at him, and he places a sweet kiss upon your lips.

“If you say so, mate,” you reply, and kiss him once more before pulling him back into motion.

“And I do, mate. You will always be the one true love of my life.”

💙🤍💙🩷💙

It had been five months since that first family dinner, you had attended one more since then.

You and Elain had become fast friends, bonding over your shared interest in medicinal herbs and plants, as well as your love for a good tea blend.

The rest of the family, however… Not matter what Azriel said, no matter how he reassured you, you couldn’t help but feel as though they did not care for your presence.

Hence the one other family dinner. It had felt awkward enough for you that you had told Azriel to go to them alone, unless he desperately wanted you there that evening. It was fine by you, you stayed home and curled up with another mystery novel in the window, waiting for Az to return and fill you in on the latest drama among his family.

Today, however you were at the Feyre and Rhys’s townhouse door, arms overloaded with the bags you were carrying.

On your hips and over your dress was a knife belt, tightened as far as it could go, one that you had designed specially for him, filled with five knives that you had Oswald design. Your only request for Oswald had been to have your and Azriel’s first initials carved into the blades. No last names, just to be safe in case one got left behind on a mission somehow. They were lovely throwing knives, simple and sleek in design.

You had been planning this day for a couple of months now, asking Elain for her input on how to surprise Azriel.

“Do something simple, like a practical gift and breakfast in bed,” Elain suggested over the rim of her tea cup.

“I already have the gift lined up, I’m having a throwing knife belt designed for him,” you said, sighing after you did. “But I’ve always done breakfast in bed for his birthday…” you trail off. It was his 555th birthday, and you wanted to do something different, more special than before.

“Hmm…” Elain hummed, before gasping. “Oh, you could tell him to stay at the townhouse the night before, saying you’re getting something ready at your house for him the night before, then surprise him with breakfast there!”

You bit your lip, unsure of the plan. But, it was something different… “I suppose I could do that, but do you really think he’d go along with that?”

“Of course!” Elain exclaimed, setting one of her hands over yours. “Azriel will do whatever you ask, especially if you seem excited about it.”

You considered her words, the nodded your head, accepting the plan.

So, here you are, standing in front of the townhouse on Azriel’s birthday at eight in the morning. You knocked on the door, careful not to jostle the parcels in your arms too much.

In them, you were carrying a bag holding five of Azriel’s favorite pastries from the café the two of you had gone to on your first date, a bag filled with all his favorite lingerie, and one other small bag. Inside of it was a sapphire blue ring box, containing a pair of rings.

Today, you were planning to propose to Azriel.

Five years into your mateship, and with no bond acceptance likely for the next six, you wanted to move forward somehow. You wanted to be able to call him yours permanently, even if just through a wedding ceremony and vow.

You had matching silver rings made, each inlaid with a small sapphire. Simple but beautiful, just as Azriel would want. Something to mark the two of you as each other’s.

Feyre answered the door.

“Oh, hello Y/N,” she said brightly. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to surprise Azriel for his birthday,” you say excitedly, joy bubbling through you.

“Ah, come in,” Feyre says, opening the door further and welcoming you in. “His room is just down the hall, first one on the left Y/N.”

“Thank you.” You move in the direction she pointed to quickly, not wanting to waste another second of this day without your mate. You reached his door and turned the knob without hesitation.

You wished you had knocked.

Because, in that moment, your world ended.

The smell of sex slammed you in the face, and you dropped the bags in your arms to the ground, for on the bed in front of you, Azriel was still slamming into a female, his pace only faltering when you gasped in horror.

Underneath him- you couldn’t believe it. Could not believe your eyes nor your nose, the scent of night chilled mist and cedar mixed so thoroughly with jasmine and honey that your stomach turned.

Underneath him was Elain.

His best friend.

Your friend.

Your mate.

You turned on the spot, booking it for the door to the garden.

You vomited when you saw it.

Every flower of every bouquet he had ever given you had a match in this garden. The dark blue and pale yellow roses he had gifted to you on your fifth anniversary were there. The beautiful white lilies, blush pink roses, carnations- all of them had come from here.

“What’s happened, Y/N?” Came a voice from behind you, and you turned to look at Feyre.

“Azriel and Elain…” you started your voice trialing off as you choked up with tears.

“Oh, were they going at it?” She asked while wrinkling her nose, and you balked at her.

“You… you knew?” Your voice came out quietly, filled with sorrow and betrayal.

Feyre’s face scrunched in confusion. “Azriel and Elain have been together the past fifteen years, Y/N,” she said, and your heart broke further.

“I… what?”

“Azriel said that you knew,” Feyre said softly.

“He… he said that I knew… that he was cheating on me… with Elain?” You ask slowly, so hurt that you could barely process her words.

Feyre shook her head, “He can’t cheat on you if you aren’t together,” she finished plainly.

“WE ARE TOGETHER!” You screamed at her, lightning rising to your skin. “WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER OVER FIVE YEARS!”

“Oh… um… Azriel had told us that you were better suited to be friends, if I had known you were together I would have… warned you,” Feyre said, obviously unsure of what to do, holding her hands up in front of her chest.

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care for these people, for these fake friends who knew what they were doing. You took off running, jumping the fence bordering the garden of lies, and got home in record time.

You hadn’t noticed Azriel’s shadows wrapped around you until you had slammed the front door of your home shut. They were frantic, wrapping around all of you in an attempt to calm you.

It had the opposite effect.

“Get off of me!” You shouted at them, shaking them off of your body, scattering them to the corners of the room. You couldn’t bear the thought of him, even his shadows touching you now.

You could not believe what had just happened. You did not want to believe that your entire relationship with Azriel had been a lie.

You rushed to your bedroom, ripping through the nightstand on your side of the bed and pulling out the hundreds upon hundreds of notes.

Azriel had left you one every day, having never broken his promise to proclaim his love for you every day for four years.

All of it was ruined, now.

You collected them in your arms and ran back into the living room, igniting the fireplace with the lightning under your skin, and tossed them in. You watched them burn for a few minutes, tears pouring out of your eyes.

Everything… every word had been a lie.

All of his reassurances that you were worthy of him, that you would be mated fully soon, were fakes.

Every action he had taken was covering up something that would destroy you, had destroyed you.

You know now, that when you had first met Elain, you did recognize her scent. It covered Azriel so regularly, you had thought it was simply something to do with being the court’s Spymaster.

But you knew now. You knew that nearly every night when he came home to you, he had been with her. All of those times being called away in the middle of the night, he had left your bed and slid into hers.

And she had pretended to be your friend, Mother, she had probably intended for you to find them wrapped up in each other today.

All of your fears were correct.

You aren’t good enough.

You aren’t worthy.

And now, you don’t even have anything to live for.

The love of your life… and he couldn’t even have bothered to stop fucking her to at least give some reasoning for his despicable actions. You could still feel him through the bond, pleasure coursing through him and you vomited again, everything about it is sickening.

You look down to the belt of daggers, still hanging from your waist, so thoughtfully made for him.

You fingered one of them, pulling it out gently.

If you have nothing to live for… if the love of your life couldn’t even be bothered to care for you… what was the point?

The shadows were back now, frantically attempting to pull the knife from your grip.

If Azriel were here… well, he’d always been stronger than you. He could stop you. The shadows on their own, however…

You raised the knife to your neck, taking a breath as it rested there.

Clean and quick, then you’ll be free from the pain. Just one movement. Just one cut, and it will all be over.

And in the next moment, you were on the floor, life flowing from your neck, the shadows pressing on the gash in a futile attempt to stop it, managing nothing more than adding an extra minute to your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and the last thing you wanted to see before you leave this earth… a pair of hazel eyes came to mind.

The love of your life, for so many years.

The loss of your life, in the end.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

A list of why I do not like Feyre and question her narrative:

I'm writing this while at work and from memory so it is not comprehensive, feel free to add onto this. Also, I only read up to a few chapters into ACOFAS before I dropped the whole series and got my money back.

First and foremost, the straw that broke the camels back, and the most important: She praised RhySAnd for the enactment of the blockade against Hewn City citizens in Velaris. The Hewn city is a City, not a prison, most of the people trapped there are only guilty of the crime of being born there. I don't blame you, Kier, I would've ignored her ass too for that stupid ass "you have all the comforts here" comment. It is difficult to continue to care that Tamlin locked her up when she shows no empathy towards the people she locks up. When she accepted the title of High Lady she accepted responsibility for the practices and procedures carried out by the Night Court. "I don't want those people ruining my perfect city" stfu.

False r@pe accusation to manipulate Tamlin and Lucien. It seemed like the moral of that scene was "don't trust everyone who tells you they've been r@ped, they could just be manipulating you." Fuck you SJM. These books are the fucking opposite of feminist.

Conjuring wings from a people she is not a part of when MOST of the women from that culture have their wings clipped. She never once thought of them. She never cared. And then proceeds to use them for her partners sexual pleasure. Definitely cultural appropriation.

She never cared or considered the people of the Spring court who she helped destroy. She's gallivanting around the Night court while the citizens of Spring have become refugees in other lands. Tamlin is at least suffering for his part in it.

Her nasty ass comments toward Tarquin who has never done anything to her except send her a damn ruby. Her attitude towards everyone who is not RhySAnd is disgusting and off putting. She's just an entitled brat.

Continues to treat Lucien like shit. He confessed to her about his incredibly tragic past and her response is "it still doesn't excuse how he treated me." Bitch he was rude to you because you killed his friend. No self awareness.

There will be more later, but this is the main shit.