#tw elriel

[achaotichuman]

The Mother's Least Favourite Son

Out of spite, I have written this. Hope you guys like broken mating bond Lucien angst.

@lorcanisdabest here is the Lucien angst you oh so wanted~

Trigger warning- Suicide.

Lucien stumbled through the dark. Tripping over something thrown carelessly across the cobblestone ground, an arm shot out to grab the nearest wall to stabilise himself. Skin scraping against the cold wet stone, it burned as it pulled away, blood beginning to prick the surface. 

Why? 

Why did it have to-

He lurched forward, and a crate at his feet caused him to fall to the ground. Dirty water splashed across his face, ruining his formerly perfect clothing. His trousers now wet and stained. His pristine Night black jacket now half covered with mud. 

Fuck-

It lurched in his chest again. Screaming like a torture victim locked in a cage. Bleeding from the inside.

Golden threads that were cut and exposed like raw nerves. His heart beat faster than it ever had in his life. His hair fell around his face. Rain dripped down from above, beginning to race faster and faster to the surface of the earth, until it hurtled down upon him. 

The stars were no longer visible. The alleyway, and the darkness it provided was his only comfort or protection. 

A sob ripped from deep within the back of his throat. Each pitter of rain that fell upon him he felt starkly. Like needles were pouring down on him. 

Why?

What did he do wrong?

Fuck-

He asked for an answer, did he not?

He wanted to know what she wanted. 

Break it, or accept it. 

He offered his heart on a platter. 

Like his heart would ever be enough. 

He fell back against the wall behind him. Eyes tilted to the sky. 

What the fuck did he do to deserve this?

The sky held no answers, nothing spoke back to him. As his skin burned, flesh bubbling under the surface. 

The thunderclouds rolling in the sky tormented him. Laughing as it was split with lightning. Turning the sky to flashing works of silver. Velaris was laughing around him. The Court his mate belonged to pointed and ridiculed the outcast that thought it could crawl in and find comfort. 

No home Court. No mate. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. The Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Her eyes had held no remorse. No care. She hadn’t even put down her knife, as she cut vegetables on the wooden board. She looked up to him. Those soft brown iris had never looked harder. 

“Please, just an answer.”

The Inner Circle stood around him. Feyre flanking Elain’s left, and Nesta on her right. Rhysand picked a piece of lint from his jacket, eyes laughing even as his mouth was firmly straight. Cassian however looked fully and utterly amused at the situation. Azriel stood behind Elain, eyes dead on Lucien. Waiting like a trap to be sprung. 

“Then here’s your answer.” Elain whispered into the space between them. 

Then it broke. 

And Lucien screamed. 

Cassian practically dragged him out. His legs unable to hold him up for long periods of time. They let him fall to the ground. Rain starting. There was no sympathy in his eyes, not even a hint of pity. Just laughing amusement as the door slammed shut. 

Even from out there, in the cold of the night with the door separating the Fox from the inside, he could hear the cheering and the celebrations.

Chest heaving, skin too tight, fire burning and burning and burning. 

Through a window he saw the form of Azriel, shadowsinger, wrap his arms around his rejected mate. 

Lucien had run. 

Run and fell across the floor, scraping his arms before he ran again. 

Another wretched cry was torn from his throat, as he screamed to the sky, “Why? Why fucking me?”

What did I do wrong?

Hated son. 

Exiled. Outcasted. 

Were mates not supposed to love each other more than sun or moonlight? 

Were they not supposed to rather give themselves up then each other?

Where were the stories? Where were the tales? Why did he not get that?

Fucking why?

The cold rain dripped from strands of his hair, down his face, and disappeared down his neck. His body began to shiver, wishing, begging, to draw up fire to warm himself. He let his body shudder and quake, barely feeling the cold pressing in under the weight of the bond now floating out in nothing. 

Darkness edged in, spreading from some place in his chest through the rest of his body. Until he felt hollow, unseeing. Lucien could barely hear anything at all. 

A sharp pain shot through his side, and he looked up to see a male with green hair and purple skin. Wide eyes, all black, glaring down at him. 

“Beat it kid, no loitering around here.” He snarled. 

“Sorry, I’m, I’m sorry.” Lucien said quickly, voice quivering. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The male said, as Lucien got to his stumbling feet. As the Fox made for the mouth of the alleyway, he heard him mutter, “Stupid kids.”

Stupid kid. 

Stupid kid indeed. 

Lucien left the alleyway. The rain pounded down harder, the thrum resembled the beating of drums. Lightning forked, and thunder cracked the sky. A familiar song, a dance that had followed him since the day Jesminda had been slaughtered in front of him. 

He had spent his days running from the song. The beating that would never cease, howling through the night, hurtling towards him. 

Death did not come silently. 

It came with war horns, riding into battle like screaming a cry. Music played in its wake. A tune no one had heard but everyone knew. 

Lucien closed his eyes, as his heart fell into sync with the beat. His voice a gentle hum as thunder whipped again. As that song raised its tune. 

He stuck his hands in his pockets. He looked ahead. And he winnowed. 

The view of Velaris gave way to dark foliage. Oranges and reds covered one side of the earth, and the other was filled with spidering dark greens and untrained brambles. 

The border of Spring and Autumn. 

The rain had not stopped. The storm had spread through Prythian as if waiting for him. 

It poured down upon him, until he was practically drowning on land. The ground of Autumn was practically unrecognisable as such, as the dried leaves were turned to muddy decay by the rain. 

Lucien fell back and stared up at the sky. 

A familiar tune. 

It had been waiting for him. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. 

He closed his eyes. 

He hoped he wouldn’t ever open them again. 

***

Three years passed and it never got better. 

It got worse. 

So, so much worse. 

Waking up and seeing the ceiling was agony. Most days he stopped bothering trying to get out of bed. Eating had become a rare occasion, so much so that Jurian and Vassa couldn’t hide their excitement when he took so much as a half bite out of his food. 

He didn’t know if Prythian remembered him; he hadn’t set foot in any of the Courts since the day Tamlin found him at the border. That was at least what he was told when he woke up. Something about the rotting High lord bringing him to the Band of Exile’s manor before disappearing back to Spring. 

Lucien didn’t care. All his thoughts were drowned out by mate, mate, mate, mate. 

He couldn’t think of anyone, of anything else, other than her brown eyes, and curls, and red stained cheeks and lips.

There was nothing else to him, nothing anymore. 

He stopped hoping she would return to him. As the darkness, the hollowness caved in. Pillars of marble in his mind turning to dust, whatever he used to know becoming nothing in the face of the broken bond. 

The last time he spoke, he didn’t know. The last time he went outside, he didn’t know. 

His skin was pasty, grey. His eyes deep with purple. Every bone on display, with his prosthetic eye sinking back into his socket, falling back from the shift in weight. 

His body was decaying. 

He stared at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t worth it. 

This would go on. 

And on.

And on, and on, and on. 

Prythian had forgotten him. His mate had rejected him. His last two friends, the last he could consider friends, were tied up with each other. 

He wasn’t worth his mate’s love. He wasn’t worth being remembered. 

“Might as well get it over with.” Lucien whispered to the ceiling, the first words he had vocalised in so long. 

For the first time in what may have been a week or more, he dragged himself from the bed he had practically become attached to. Limbs heavy, eyes fluttering, pain struck him from all sides and he wanted to fall back down and rot. 

But Jurian or Vassa would eventually convince him to a meal or something to keep him going if he stayed on the bed. 

So he walked. 

He walked to a dresser, where beside it laid a bag. It had all sort of provisions and things needed should he have been stranded somewhere in Prythian. He kept it packed ever since he was thrown out of Autumn. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Inside one of the back pockets was a long spiral of coarse rope. Rough against his weary hands as he pulled it out, a sudden disruption to the soft sheets Lucien was used to holding these days. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

The curtain rod was sturdy and could hold a fair amount of weight, not that it mattered very much as he was practically just skin and bones. It took little to stand atop a chair by the window and put the rope over the rod. Part of Lucien wished Eris had never taught him to tie knots, if only so he didn’t know what to do now. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

It was rough around his neck. He felt nothing. He didn’t want to feel anything. 

It was sunny outside. The flowers were in bloom. He saw Elain in the sunshine. In the flowers below him. He saw home in the ground, in the trees in the distance. He remembered the feelings of Autumn leaves under his hands. And he remembered the smell of pollen from Spring. He remembered the chill of Night’s air. 

He remembered her soft skin when he put his jackets over her arms after she came out of the Cauldron. 

Lucien let go of all memory as he let himself swing from the curtain rod. 

He hoped he wouldn’t remember in the Mother’s land of milk and honey. 

Mother’s least favourite son. 

Cauldron’s hated creation. 

[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]

Tw: violence against women and children mentioned.

I have been an Anti-Facist Norse pagan for almost 15 years (a pretty lonely life ngl) and the best thing to come of this is my skill to sniff out alt right, facist propaganda before anyone else. Everyone tells me "it's not that deep" until they realize, yep it is that deep.

The ACOTAR books have now been added to my list of Alt Right pipelines and I am convinced that SJM herself is either currently a facist or will be spiraling towards it soon.

If any criticism of the main characters, inner circle, Night court values draws you into a frenzy where you need to use a 1300 word straw man argument to lower your heart rate and pat yourself on the back, you need to do some self reflecting.

Like who you like, I don't honestly care, I'm not here for friends, but if you justify literal Jim Crowe laws because "those people will ruin our beautiful perfect city" I am going to side eye you. That is not something a healthy, non racist, Pro humanity person fantasizes about. There is not a single, natural born illyran woman who can use her own wings under the 500 year rule of "the most powerful high lord." Fantasizing about a lazy sex crazed leader who still allows the breaking of children's bones for misbehaving, is not normal. I am not going to trust you if you justify and praise violence toward children, even fictional children.

The fact that you will go to war to defend the abhorrent policies and actions of the NC when people try to have critical discussions about the texts is shocking to say the least.

Every single character in these books are subject to criticism. SJM herself is subject to criticism for the way in which she portrays these communities and glosses over the unjust policies. The way the Jim Crow laws in Velaris were introduced is a common manipulative tactic to desensitize the reader to the policy itself, paving a way for it to, once again, exist in our world. "It just a fantasy book calm down" no. Media has always been a large method to distribute propaganda.

I don't give half a fuck who Elain ends up with but please, please, please criticize the Night court and recognize it's atrocities or it will affect how you vote and how you see the world around you.

[rosenecklaces]

The way the ones who are part of that idea are like "but-but we included elriel last year 🥺 we just want to bring peace to the fandom and include all, you elriels can tag the ship in it if you want" like please shut up I beg fake elain and azriel stans to be honest with themselves and everyone else, stop the bullshit, you ain't fooling anyone let alone us

Shake hands and kiss the cheeks of people that doesn't give a fuck about both characters, whatever you do you, but then don't come and act as a poor victim when is easy to tell when someone prefers to please the insane bullies that are gleeriels and feed into the lies of the deluciens.

Gwynriels aren't people, they are problematic since day one they created that stupid crackship because a girl that literally was SAd and still can't be alone with men, was saved by a guy with decency (that let me remind you, it was created by pure misogynistic hatred and fear of elain as potential lover of azriel when acosf was just published) they had been giving lies and misinformation to even non-englishs peakers specially to them, they had doxed anti gwynriels until big online elriel/elain stans pages just went offline, they had harassed people and wishing the worst to elain to the point they even show their faces in ticktok talking about how bad it is for a woman to not give children since it makes her unworthy of the man she likes; they had been inventing bullshit from her being evil to she dying at her sisters hands. They even put their side side character at the center of all and now she's more important than feysand and nessian all together, she is more valuable than emerie, emerie, so now she would be the white savior of all illyrians including azriel, who now is a dangerous and toxic brute but not to her! Not at her ginger magic! Because God forbid a brown grown man wants to have sex with a woman he likes and is taking all the risks for in canon...

[thelov3lybookworm]

To Love and Cakes

Summary: Y/n is the daughter of a flower and gardening tools shop's owner in Velaris. When he gets sick, y/n makes her father take some rest and looks after the small shop herself. But she is new to all this as her father never let her work a day in her life.

One day, as she's looking after the shop, a red haired high fae comes looking for gardening gloves as a gift to someone. Y/n helps him, and learns that he is a frequent customer.

Due to his frequent visits, they soon develop a bond. More than friends, but not lovers.

Yet.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: i dont think there are any but still, here we go. elain being a sour and jealous mate even though she's been sailing on the elriel ship, a few curse words and all. Can't think of anything else, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: this thing has been in my draft for faxing months. This is, to me, the best work of mine. This is my baby. I LOVED writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

(ps. even if youre not a lucien girlie, try reading it. i have a secret agenda to make every one of you creatures a lucien simp, just like im trying to make @artists-ally a lucien simp)

(also, the scene towards the end where reader is dancing was inspired by one of the fbaa books, if it seemed familiar or you were wondering)

t'is a long one children, Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

As Y/n finished walking around the store, cleaning, she thought back to the morning two days ago.

She had just woken up and was walking towards her father's kitchen for breakfast when she heard it. A cough. She quickened her pace, entering the kitchen to find her father bent over, his body heaving from the coughs.

She rushed to him, helping him to the nearest chair. When she bought him some water, he smiled up at her gratefully.

"How many times do I have to tell you to take some rest, father? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I might be getting old, but not that old that I need to rely on my daughter to help me earn. Unless you are trying to steal my shop?"

"Father!" She said, exasperated, even though she knew he was just saying that to irritate her. "You are staying home till you get better. I'll take care of the shop."

"But you don't know anything about it." At the glare she gave him, he finally conceded. "Let me help for today atleast. Show you how to handle it. I promise I'll rest."

She had come to visit and stay with her father for some days, having just quit her previous job, searching for a new one. They were well off, the house that Y/n lived in owned by her. She had wanted to see if her father needed any help around. Which he didn't. He wasn't very old and ill by any means, he just didn't know when to stop. That's why she had already made her father agree to closing the store earlier and taking the weekends off.

As Y/n put away the cleaning equipment in the back of the store, the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. As she hurried to the front desk, she caught a glimpse of the beautiful male that was waiting from behind a shelf.

He had dark crimson hair cascading over his shoulder that looked like fire, with one russet eye and one that was a golden metal one, which was whirring. A scar marred the skin surrounding that eye and trailed to his jaw.

Y/n quickly averted her gaze when she realised she was staring. He hadn't yet noticed her though, looking around the shop. She stepped out from behind the shelf and cleared her throat.

He turned to her at once, giving her a warm smile.

"Hello. How can I help you today?" She asked with a small smile.

"I'm looking for enchanted gardening gloves."

She wracked her brain for the location of said gloves before perking up. "Right this way." As she led the way, he followed a respectful distance away. To fill the silence, she spoke up. "Are you from Night Court? You don't seem like you're from here."

"Yes. I'm from... Autumn Court." His hesitation was evident, and Y/n didn't push.

"Here we are." She said, stopping in front of the gloves stacked neatly on a shelf. She left him alone when he nodded.

She began sorting out her desk, her father's, really, which was near the entrance to the shop.

By the time she finished, the male was done with his browsing and bought out the gloves to the desk to pay for them. The whole ordeal went silently and quickly. With a word of thanks and a 'good day', he was on his way.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

He stared at her. His mate.

He wondered if, under other circumstances, she would have not despised him. Could she have ever loved him the way others loved their mates? Would the two of them be together if there was no cruelty in this world?

He answered those himself.

The first one? Probably.

The second one? Maybe.

The third one? No.

Because, if there was no cruelty in this world, his love, one his father had killed, would not be dead. Jesminda would be alive still. And if she was alive, he wouldn't care for anything, even his own mate.

And maybe that made him an asshole, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he stared at Elain smiling at the Shadowsinger from the corner of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the gift he'd bought for her. It was enchanted gardening gloves so her hands wouldn't get cut. Of course, the present had been discarded in a corner, unopened. It wasn't as if she didn't notice the gift. No, he had seen her look at it before placing it aside from her other gifts.

He'd seen her do that, and his heart had been pierced by an arrow. At least it felt like it.

As he stared at the gift, his mind drifted to the shop where he had bought it from. The shop run by the female. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. She hadn't even said much, but she had simply caught his attention.

He blinked when a loud laugh interrupted his thoughts, looking at the inner circle sitting in the center of the room and having the time of their lives, while he sat in the darkest corner he could find. He knew he didn't fit in here, and that most of them didnt trust or like him.

He didn't know why he had accepted Feyre's invitation to stay for the night when he knew he'd be miserable.

He had thought that maybe, just maybe, they would include him in their fun. At least for one night.

He felt so dumb now.

After a little bit of contemplation, he decided it best if he left. No one was going to miss him anyways.

Quietly, he downed the whiskey in his glass, then rolled onto his feet. He set the glass on a nearby table, then turned towards the door. He walked towards it, his boots making no noise.

As he exited the room, there was no sign of the festivities slowing down. None. He removed his coat from the nearby hook, donning it as he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

It wasn't until Lucien was out of the house that the sounds faltered for a brief moment, but then the laughter started back again, and Lucien sighed, his breath misting in front of him. He stared at the little cloud of fog in front of his face.

He didn't want to go home– if it could even be called that– not yet. The night was still young. Maybe he would go on a little walk around Velaris before he returned to the mortal lands.

He started the trek across the city, walking slowly, letting his mind wander, his eyes seeing everything but taking nothing in. It was like a waste of time, looking at the beauty but not caring enough to appreciate it.

He sighed, making his way through the vibrant market place. The children running around the place, candies in their hand, adults lingering around the place with their lovers and families truly added to the beauty of the festival.

But Lucien's eyes were unseeing, his heart unfeeling as he avoided the running and giggling children.

Someone slammed into Lucien from somewhere near him, and that finally broke him out of the haze that he'd been in.

He glanced at the fae leaning against him, trying to gain her footing in the crowded area.

"I am so sorry. I got pushed–" The female looked up at him, finally stable on her feet. She cocked her head, a smile spreading on her lips. "Oh. It's you."

He returned the smile, somehow easier than it should have been considering the foul mood he'd been. "It's me. I don't think I caught your name this morning."

The lady from the gardening shop grinned, her cheeks rosy, glowing with happiness. "Y/n."

"Lucien." He mumbled, studying her. She nodded, holding out her hand. He took it.

Then they stood there, awkwardly trying to figure out what to say. "Um... enjoying solstice?"

"Yeah." She returned, a relieved expression on her face. "Just left the house after dinner. My father said he's going out with some friends, so I decided to head out for some desserts. You?"

"Not really..." That was not the right answer, but Lucien was struggling to put on his mask of indifference.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Are you alone?"

He smiled ruefully as he looked away. "Very."

After a moment of silence, the lady spoke up again. "What are your thoughts on some cake? Pie? Or maybe cookies?"

Lucien blinked, then glanced at her. "What?"

She grinned, turning away and gesturing with her hand to follow her. Seeing that he had no other reason to haunt the streets of Velaris, he followed her.

She weaved in and out of the crowd, walking with purpose towards her destination. She stumbled sometimes, due to being pushed around by the crowd, but mostly by herself. She seemed to have a problem walking without tripping.

She tripped again, so bad that Lucien had to catch her elbow to stop her from faceplanting. She grinned up at him sheepishly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Are you... drunk?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I don't drink. It's taste is disgusting."

A small smirk made is way into Lucien's face, but he simply nodded at her to keep going. She continued on.

Soon, she was walking into a brightly lit shop, cakes and various baked goods displayed through the glass.

"This is my favourite place for sweets and baked items. It's really good."

She went to open the door, but Lucien stretched out his hand and held it for her. She blinked at him before smiling and stepping in to the warm interior.

"Hello." She greeted the kind looking old lady behing the counter, who smiled widely.

"How are you today?"

"I'm good. How about yourself?" Y/n replied.

"I'm good, I'm good. Just these joints creaking a little extra nowadays."

Y/n grinned fondly. "Maybe you should just get some rest, you old hag."

"Oh shut it. I will rest once I know I have succeded in convincing you to get a partner. Mother knows how lonely you must be."

"I'm not lonely, you old hag. As long as I have you and father, I will never be alone."

"Yeah yeah whatever." Then the old female seemed to notice Lucien, and her eyes lit up. "Are you finally seeing someone?"

Y/n blinked, then glanced at Lucien. Her lips parted, then a flush climbed up her neck. She furiously shook her head, and the old lady sighed.

"Well, hope I'm not dead when you finally decide to interact with others." The female bustled away as other people walked upto the counter to place their order.

Y/n turned to Lucien, her face red, and she gestured to the display of sweets. He grinned when she turned away again. "Choose what you would like to try. I always go for pineapple, but chocolate is also good."

Lucien dipped his head in a nod when she glanced at him to make sure he understood her, and then the two of them went on to get their cakes.

As they were about to leave the shop, the owner of the shop called to him. "Psst. Hey! You!"

When Lucien glanced up questioningly, the lady Y/n had been talking to motioned at him to come closer. He inched towards the counter behind which the lady stood as Y/n talked to another one of the workers.

"What are your intentions for her?" The lady hissed at Lucien as soon as she was sure no one could hear her.

Lucien blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Don't you dare even think of hurting her. Males have hurt her enough. She is a pure soul, and if you hurt her, then I will carve your eyes out with a spoon. You hear me young man?"

Lucien nodded, dumbfounded. Thank the cauldron though, Y/n decided that moment to walk up to the two of them.

The old lady smiled at her, and then shooed Y/n and Lucien away. Y/n rolled her eyes and led Lucien out of the shop.

She crossed the road and settled onto one of the many benches overlooking the Sidra. She patted the place next to her and he obliged, studying her.

"What were you and the old hag talking about?"

"Nothing..."

Y/n raised a brow but stayed silent as she dug into the treat in her hands.

The two of them sat in silence as they ate, staring at the waters of the Sidra.

Unfortunately, soon enough the two of them were done eating, and Y/n turned to Lucien. She smiled. "Did you like the cake?"

Lucien gave her a smile. A genuine one, one that felt like he hadn't smiled in centuries. He probably hadn't.

"I did. Thank you for making my solstice better."

"I enjoyed the time too, no need to thank me."

And then the two of them parted ways, Lucien thanking her again and her telling him not to worry about it.

Lucien watched her until she had vanished between the crowd, then he turned and decided to walk to secluded place before he winnowed back to human lands.

A soft breeze caressed his face, and he closed his eyes, savoring the cool touch. His mind drifted back to Y/n.

He smiled softly, opening his eyes and leaning his head back, staring at the stars twinkling down at him, as if they were winking.

Maybe... just maybe, not all fae were miserable and hateful.

Maybe there was someone out there, like Y/n, who would not hate him for simply existing.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Y/n only had one thought in her mind, and that was to hurry up.

She had been out in the market, getting the things she needed according to the cooking book she had recently bought.

She had decided to surprise her best friend since childhood with a home baked cake, and hence the rush to get home and start the preparations.

The catch?

Y/n was shit at baking.

The few times she had tried to bake, she had either ended with something that was too hard to even be called a rock, or with something that vaguely resembled... puke.

Even thinking about it sent shivers up Y/n's spine.

But back then she hadn't used a cookbook's instruction, she tried to reason with the sane part of her brain, the one that knew this was a bad idea.

Hurry up-

And she smacked into a wall. A very warm wall.

All her bags slipped from her hands and onto the ground as she stumbled back, barely keeping herself from falling onto her ass.

She lifted her head to apologise to whoever she had crashed onto when her eyes met russet and gold. Lucien.

She paused as she watched him cock his head, a little smile spreading on his features.

"I seem to notice a pattern, Y/n."

She lifted an eyebrow as she bent to gather her stuff. He followed. "What pattern?"

She tried to shoo him off by waving her hands, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. "You are always crashing into me. That sounds like a pattern to me."

She scowled, knowing that if her father or any of her friends saw her, they would yell at her for being disrespectful to someone who was helping her.

He grinned, glancing at her as he stood, most of her bags in his hands.

"Do you need any help carrying these?" He questioned when she climbed to her feet too, and she blinked.

"Oh no, it's alright. I'll carry them myself. I don't want to bother you."

"I insist. And it's really not a bother. I have nothing else to do. These are really heavy, let me help."

"You really don't have anything else to do?"

He smiled triumphantly, as if he knew he had won. "I don't."

She sighed. "Fine then. My house is nearby. Thank you vey much."

He shook his head, that smile still on his face. "No worries."

She led him to her house, a peaceful silence between the two.

It wasn't long before they reached her house, and she turned to him, keys in her hand.

"Please come in. Let me make you some tea." That was the least she could do for him.

"Oh no, that is unnecessary, I don't want to bother you. It was my pleasure to help."

"I insist. And it really is not a bother." She smirked, throwing his words back at him.

He shook his head, grinning. "Fine."

She let the two of them in, setting about to get some tea ready. "So, may I ask what you are going to with these?"

When Y/n turned to look at him, he gestured at the bags he set on the counter.

"Because from what I saw outside, these things are usually used for baking."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah. It's my friends birthday today. I was thinking of making her a cake."

"That's great. Do you bake often?"

Her smile now turned sheepish. "No. I tried a couple of times, back when I was younger," -six months ago- "and I damn near brought down the whole kitchen once."

Lucien chuckled. "So now you think you can do it properly?"

She picked up the cookbook nearby and waved it at him. "I will follow instructions this time."

Judging by the amusement in his eyes, she thought he would laugh, but he didn't. He simply extended his hand towards her and asked, "Can I have a look?"

She handed it to him, turning to check on the tea she was brewing.

The sound of the pages being flipped were the only sounds other than her pouring the liquid into cups for the two of them.

When she turned back around, she found him staring intensely at the book, his brows furrowed, a downward tilt to his mouth. She tried to make no noise as she set down the cup in front of him, hoping to not disturb his concentration.

But he glanced up at her, frowning. "This won't work. This is too complicated."

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes and words. "What do you mean?"

He closed the book, setting it aside as he pulled the cup of tea towards him. "Baking is simpler than whatever bullshit is given in there."

"You know how to bake?"

"I helped my mother when I was younger."

"And exactly how many years ago was that?"

His eyes narrowed. "How many years since you baked anything?"

That made Y/n shut up.

She sighed ruefully. "Maybe I'm just not supposed to bake."

Lucien shook his head. "I can help."

She glanced at him. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do anyways. I can help you bake the cake."

"I don't want to bother-"

"Its not a bother. I would love to help."

Y/n smiled behind her cup as she took a sip of her tea, a warmth spreading through her chest.

"Thank you. I appreciate the gesture." Then, she looked at the redhead for a moment longer before turning away. "And you know what? I am noticing a pattern too."

•○🌑○•

After a day filled with trying to decide on the flavour for the cake, the decorations, making the cake and laughter, it was finally time to sleep.

The party had been perfect, so many memories made, and so many things she could think about.

But no matter what, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about him.

She didn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so thoroughly around a male, let alone one she knew nothing about.

And as she went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how his eyes twinkled in amusement when she had dropped an egg on the ground- huffing and puffing- she failed to keep that smile off of her face.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien's pov.

After the day filled with helping her bake, correcting anything she had been doing wrong and watching as happiness spread across her face when the cake came out almost nearly perfect, it was finally time to sleep.

The day had been perfect, a reprieve from the constant ugly thoughts Lucien had about himself. Memories had been made, though unexpected.

But no matter what, Lucien could not stop thinking about her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so thoroughly around someone, let alone someone he barely knew anything about.

And as he went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how she had jumped around and squealed in excitement- so much so that she had nearly burnt herself by the hot pan- Lucien failed to keep that smile off of his face.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Soon enough, Y/n learned that the handsome male with the metal eye, Lucien, was the Lucien Vanserra. The youngest son of the High Lord of Autumn Court.

He frequented the shop after that day they spent baking, him and Y/n becoming fast friends. He'd told her that he lived in the human lands with his friends, Jurian and Vassa.

Recently, she had learned that this Jurian he was friends with was the Jurian from the war centuries ago, the powerful human commander, remade by the Cauldron.

Expect Lucien to surprise a four hundred year old fae who thought she could not be surprised about anything anymore.

Y/n shook her head with an exasperated grin, finishing braiding her hair. She had spent the whole afternoon wondering what hairstyle would look good with her dress for her meeting with Lucien, eventually settling for a simple braid. Few strands framed her face, and she thought it looked better than any elaborate hairstyle she could have done.

Even after six months of being friends with him, he never failed to shock her by telling her things about himself.

He had sent a letter in advance that he would be visiting today, and he wanted to meet with her in their favourite cafe before reporting to the High Lord.

She had, of course, agreed. He was the only friend she had other than the female she had baked for, what with her being cooped up in her home with a book in hand when she wasn't working in the nearby jewellery store.

A knock sounded on the door, and Y/n practically flew down the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm her heart before opening the door.

There he stood in all his glory, smiling at her. The fading sunshine made his hair look on fire, his skin glowing.

"My lady. You look quite...dishevelled." He murmured, his eye twinkling. Y/n frowned, lifting her hand to her hair. It had looked good when she checked it in the mirror. Maybe the braid didn't look as good as she thought it did. In which case, she wanted to go and jump off a cliff.

Before her hand could touch her hair though, Lucien caught it, grinning and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, all the while maintaining eye contact. Y/n blushed.

"When I said dishevelled, I meant you look like you've run a mile. That looks exquisite." He said, straightening and flicking her forehead. "You look exquisite."

"Shut up." She mumbled, shoving his shoulder and stepping out, turning to lock the door. When she had finished, she turned to find him leaning against a pillar of the front porch. He smiled and inclined his head towards the road.

They walked towards the cafe, talking about his past days in the human lands and her job at the jewellery store. How she didn't really care for it and was thinking of taking up something else.

They soon reached the cafe which stood right on the banks of the Sidra and had outdoor seating as well in the backyard, right next to the river. As they settled down in their usual seat in a corner right next to the river, her eyes sharpened on the paper stuck on a nearby wall.

"Hey Lucien? Do you see that?" Y/n questioned, making Lucien glance back at it.

"Yeah. Looks like they're hiring." Lucien's eye lit up as he turned back to her. "You should try." She nodded enthusiastically.

Soon, they finished their food and Lucien was waiting to pay, having insisted on paying while Y/n talked to the hotel's owner. She was quite happy Y/n said she wanted to work there. They finally settled on her starting in two days.

After that, as they were walking home, the delicious smell of freshly baked cakes reached them. Y/n grinned at Lucien who took her arm and walked towards the stand where an old lady was selling small round cakes that were the size of Y/n's palm. They made idle conversation with her while she handed them their treats.

"You two make a good couple. Are you mates?" She asked as soon Y/n took a bite. Which was very unfortunate as she immediately choked on it. Lucien patted her back, grinning as he turned to the lady.

"No, we aren't mates. We're just friends."

"What a shame. But maybe the bond hasn't made itself known yet?"

Lucien shook his head with a sad smile. "That would've been wonderful, really." Y/n's had whipped to him, her eyes wide. Did he just say what she thought he did? Could it be that he... no. That was stupid. He had a mate that he would die for, regardless of whether she liked him back. He would never...

"But I already have a mate." He continued.

"Oh I'm so sorry then for assuming things."

"Don't be. It's not like it matters anyway. She doesn't want the bond."

"Oh mother, that's truly unfortunate. Maybe you could be with someone else? I loved someone in my youth, but he never paid me any attention. Then one day my friend advised me to forget the male. Now I'm married to my friend and I think I couldn't be any more happy."

Lucien looked thoughtful. "That's a good advice, I must say. And I'll definitely think about it." He winked at Y/n, making her blush furiously.

They continued on after that, though there was silence now compared to their earlier mindless chatter. And it was filled with tension. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the waters of the Sidra nearby.

As they walked, her mind wandered to what Lucien had said to the woman. Could he really mean what he had said? He wasn't one to joke about such serious matters... but then again, maybe he was jesting.

Soon, they had reached her house, and she stepped up to open the door.

"You want to come in? We can have some tea..."

Lucien smiled. "I would love to if it's not a problem."

As she set about making the tea, he sat watching her every move. Which made her work extremely carefully, wondering if he was judging her. Which was absurd. Because, not only would Lucien never judge her, but also because she never would have cared for something so trivial as someone judging her. So why did she care now?

Because you lov–

She shut the thought down before it even finished.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

It had been over a month since he had seen his Y/n, and he was already craving her presence. Initially, he been able to go longer periods without meeting his friend. But as time went on, he became more and more enraptured with her and shorter and shorter became the time period between his visits.

The way she laughed on anything he said. The way her eyes would light up when she looked at him. The way he could make her blush by just looking at her. How she would get excited when taking about the newest book she was reading or when she learned something that made her happy.

He just couldn't get enough of her sometimes. All he wanted to do was stay and bask in her presence.

Of course, it wasn't possible, what with his work of going back and forth between human lands and the Night Court, as well as Day Court, where he had been spending some time getting to know his father.

It was a shock when he found out that Beron wasn't his real father, but he was adjusting. She had a big part in his acceptance. And he was grateful for it.

Now, he was going to leave his emissary duties for the Night Court, going to live in his father's court permanently. Which was why Feyre had decided to have the whole of the inner circle and him go out to eat for dinner. Lucien had suggested the cafe by the Sidra for the ordeal.

The place where Y/n currently worked.

He was smiling at his thoughts of her when he knocked on the door of the River House. Nuala opened it, greeting him with a smile before letting him enter. There was already sounds of chatter coming from the living room as he walked towards it. Everyone was here then. Great.

The quicker this was over, the faster he could spend time with Y/n.

He would leave soon, but that didn't mean he wouldn't come back to Velaris. He had important people here.

He had informed Rhys about his departure a few months ago, and had agreed to stay till they found someone who would be willing to take up the duties of Lucien. They were still searching for someone, so Lucien was still the emissary.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien tapped his leg on the floor impatiently, his eyes constantly flitting between the tables and booths in search of his friend.

It had only been a few moments since he had arrived with the inner circle, but he simply couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of her.

While he was searching for Y/n, he failed to notice the High lord and lady's, as well as the entire inner circle's eyes on him.

He craned his head, and he finally heard that beautiful voice he'd been dying to hear from behind him.

"Good evening. May I take your order?"

He turned his head so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, but Lucien didn't care as his eyes met those of Y/n's.

Her mouth lifted at the edges, a knowing look in her eyes as she turned away to converse with Rhysand.

His brain didn't process the words being exchanged between the two, he was so busy admiring her.

And wondering when the damn dinner will be over so he could finally talk to her and catch up.

When she left the table after taking their orders, she distcreetly brushed her hand against his bicep, pulling a smile on his face.

Just an hour or so. He reminded himself as he focused on the table in front of him, ignoring the looks of the inner circle, including Elain.

Which wasn't all that hard.

•○●⛦●○•

The time seemed to pass slower, just to torture Lucien that night.

Right when Lucien was about to loose his patience, everyone had finished dessert, and were on the verge of leaving.

Lucien stood, nodding at Cassian and Azriel in goodbye, hugging Feyre and shaking Rhys's hand. Making some excuse- unconvincing, he was sure- about having to go meet up with Vassa and Jurian, he walked away, eyeing the place Y/n had disappeared into.

He knew that she was about to leave, had probably already left, and he couldn't wait to tell her all the juicy stories he'd acquired over his recent travels, as well as the budding tensions between Vassa and Jurian.

The moment he stepped out onto the road, he heard her voice.

"So desperate to meet me fox boy?"

Lucien smirked, turning to find the owner of the voice leaning against a wall. "You wish."

Her eyebrows lifted as she pushed herself off the wall. "Sure. Didn't seem like it was just my fantasy when you were searching around like an eager puppy."

He grinned, though a flush climbed up his neck at being caught red handed. "Just wanted to see you so I could tell you about Vassa and Jurian."

Y/n grinned, throwing her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his neck. He returned the hug in kind, warming up his body a little through his magic so he could ward off the chill in the air surrounding them.

They stayed in the hug for longer than seemed appropriate, but no one was watching anyways. And neither of them cared if anyone was.

Y/n was the first to pull away, smiling shyly up at Lucien.

"You want to get some cake before we go home?" Y/n questioned, beginning towards the general direction of her home.

"I feel like we should make it ourselves." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows, throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began the trek to her home.

She shook her head slightly, becoming redder by the moment as she grinned softly at her feet.

•○🌑○•

It was solstice tonight.

It had been one not-long-enough year since he'd met Y/n.

Lucien's chest felt lighter than it had been in ages.

They had already found a new emissary who they trusted, and so today was Lucien's last day as a member of the Inner Circle.

He was here today to deliver some reports to Rhys.

The sound of utensils and laughter greeted him as soon as he entered the River house, the inner circle being as loud as ever. But as soon as he stepped foot in the dining room, everything went silent, all eyes turning to him.

He smiled at Feyre, nodding to Rhys and pointing to the papers in his hands. He placed the stack on a table nearby, before nodding again to the rulers of Night and turning away.

"Wait! Where are you going? Come have dinner with us." Lucien looked at Feyre, shaking his head.

He didn't want to stay. Not when all that was going through his head was how he would go up to Y/n's door and knock, and how she would open the door suspiciously, those eyes narrowed. But then she would realise that it was him, and she would fling the door open with squeal, tackling him into a hug, laughing. How when she pulled back, she'd realise she was in her pajamas and would self consciously brush herself down, touching her hair. How–

"Lucien?" Lucien winced, coming back to the present.

"I can't stay. I have to go meet a friend."

"Oh. Did you plan a meeting beforehand?"

"Oh no. She doesn't know I'm here. I'm going to go surprise her."

"She?" A gentle and soft voice intoned. Lucien stiffened. The voice he had wanted to hear acknowledge him ever since the bond snapped for him.

He turned to look at Elain, his brows rising as he took her in. She was standing from her seat next to the shadowsinger, her knuckles white from clenching her fork so tightly. Her brows were furrowed in anger, and she looked murderous.

"Yes..." He didn't really know how to answer the question, so he simply watched her.

Rage entered her eyes. "Is this the female you went with that night when we were out?"

Lucien blinked, wondering what was making Elain so angry. "Yes. Exactly that one."

Elain huffed out a bitter laugh. "So is she trying to steal my mate now? She did look like someone who steals males."

For a moment, no one moved. There was so much silence it was deafening.

Almost everyone was staring between Elain and Lucien, their eyes wide. Except from Amren, of course. Nothing could faze the little devil. And Nyx, who waved around a piece of carrot like a sword.

Lucien smiled slowly. "Glad to know your thoughts on my life, mate. I will let her know of your amazing thoughts about her."

Lucien turned away, walking towards the foyer, but just before he turned out of sight, he glanced back, his eyes meeting Elain's.

"She and I were only ever friends, but now that you've said it, I realise that we never were meant to be friends." Lucien smiled slightly, bowing his head. "Thank you."

And with that, he left, ready to meet with his friend.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Her solstice had been normal. Nothing great to do. Her father had gone out drinking with his friends, her friends having been busy with their own families. Even the old hag was busy tending to and celebrating with her brother.

She was sure Lucien would also be busy with something, since he hadn't written to her to let her know of his arrival if he was coming.

That left Y/n alone.

But then suddenly, a knock had sounded on the door, and Y/n's heart had fluttered before even knowing who stood on the other side of the door.

After Lucien told her what was going on with Vassa and Jurian, he began telling her of the events that went down in the High lord's home as she got ready to take a stroll around Velaris with Lucien.

Her blood boiled when she heard of the things Elain said to Lucien, but a smile of reassurance from him was all it took for her to calm down.

They were in the main square of Velaris right now, watching the people dance around the huge fire in the centre.

It had become a tradition in the recent years for the people of the city to come together and dance the night away, laughing and drinking and mingling. It was a wholesome event, where younger people would gather around the old towards the end of the night and simply listen to their tales.

This was the first time Y/n was attending with someone else, as usually she would come here alone and sit next to the elderly, watching as younger couple her age danced around and bonded.

The glow from the fire danced in Lucien's eyes, making it look like there was fire inside those mismatched eyes. There was a relaxed grin on his face, one like she'd never seen before. He seemed so careless now, so free, it made Y/n smile too.

"You're staring." He pointed out, his voice barely audible over the cheers and the faeries singing along.

Y/n blushed, but in a sudden burst of boldness, she spoke, looking away. "It would be a crime not to."

From the periphery of her eyes, she found him gaping at her and had to suppress a triumphant smile.

"You know, I feel like the Mother took extra time making you."

He let out a surprised laugh, the sound lighting fires across Y/n's body.

"All that extra time to make me ruined by a fucking scar."

His tone was light, though Y/n could sense a hint of insecurity and sadness under the joy.

She turned to him, watching as the smile slowly vanished from his face at the look in her eyes.

"You are beautiful, Lucien, scars and all. And if I had the chance, I would show you how beautiful they are to me." She let her hand reach up toward his face, ignoring the heat entering his eyes or the way his pupils dilated as she traced the scar that ended at his jaw.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

HIs eyes fell shut as the music came to an end, and the people dancing around the fire dispersed for a moment.

"Y/n..." He whispered, his hand reaching up to hold hers against his face.

The music started up again, a soft and slower sound than before, more sensual.

This one was for people who were a couple or in a relationship, just a slow waltz to cool down before everyone again joined in a faster, more traditional dance.

"Dance with me."

The words were a shock to her system, and she nodded without even thinking.

It wasn't until the two of them had begun dancing, her arms wrapped around his broad and strong shoulders, their faces barely inches away, that she remembered that this was a waltz for couples, and she and Lucien were definitely not a couple.

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. She opened her mouth to tell him, trying to ignore the warmth against her skin from the fire behind her, his body pressed so close to hers in the front.

"Lucien, this dance is for-"

"I know." He mumbled, his eyes smoldering. "I know." He repeated, making sure she understood.

Suddenly, his arms around her waist became more apparent, the way they rested over her lower back. The way the stray hairs that had escaped his low bun tickled her neck, the way his breath washed over her skin when he exhaled.

Y/n's mind was about to either stop working, or remind her of Lucien's touch every two minutes, and honestly, she didn't know which one she prefered.

He never broke eye contact once during the whole dance.

Soon, but not soon enough, the slow music came to an end. And the people that sat along the outer edge cheered, clapping and demanding the couples kiss. And as all the couples shared that intimate moment, Y/n's heart rate picked up, panic clawing up her throat, feeling so many eyes on her and him, wondering what Lucien would do.

She didn't have to wonder long, though.

Lucien began leaning in, making Y/n's eyes flutter closed. She swallowed, licking her lips.

Then she felt his hot breath closer to her face, his lashes brushing gently against her skin as she felt those plump, beautiful lips on the corner of hers.

She felt him smile against her skin. All the while, it was hard to breathe.

But then he pulled away, a flush on his cheeks. If it was because of the heat of the enormous fire behind her, or because he was genuinely flustered, she couldn't tell.

As the faster music started, Lucien grinned wickedly at her.

"Let's dance, my lady."

•○🌑○•

Y/n's feet were sore, but it was all so worth it.

At some point during the night, she had discarded her shoes next to a kind old male who she had known since she was a child.

All the dances after Y/n and Lucien's initial waltz had been fast paced, where everyone changed partners every few moments. It was one of the best things that had happened that night, getting to know new people and dancing and singing along to the top of their lungs.

It was all so beautiful.

She had always thought so, watching from the sidelines. But now, being one of the people she would have watched, it was a whole different experience.

The dancing was supposed to go on for atleast one more hour before the elders gathered and began telling stories. That would go on for the rest of the night.

And so, Y/n decided to get some rest, maybe somewhere on he benches near the Sidra where it would be quiet before returning to listen to the elder's tales.

Listening to loud music for hours was one way to invite a headache.

Y/n began making her way up to Lucien, who stood on the opposite side of the huge fire, but then she paused, simply admiring him.

He had discarded his embroidered overcoat next to where Y/n had placed her shoes, now only in a simple, thin white shirt that clung to his sweaty frame, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He laughed as he held the hands of a little girl, giving her instructions on how to move. The little girl's tongue poked out of her lips as she concentrated, and Lucien was just as concentrated as her.

Once the current music came to an end, the girl grinned up at Lucien, and he ruffled her hair in return before she ran away, maybe to her friends.

Y/n finally walked up to Lucien, smiling tiredly at him.

"Hello, you."

He smiled back. "Good evening, my lady."

Y/n rolled her eyes at the title. "Shut up."

"Can I not even greet you now?"

"Yeah yeah whatever. I'm going to go sit at a bench, rest a little then return. You coming?"

He nodded, walking over to where his coat lay on the ground. He picked it up along with her shoes then returned.

When she tried to take her shoes from him, he waved her away.

The two of them walked in silence, heading towards the quiet river. Once there, they walked onto the bank and settled down where the place was relatively drier than all other places. Y/n dipped her feet in the cold water, releasing a relieved sigh at the soothing sensation.

Lucien pulled out two packets from the pocket of his coat, tearing open the wrapper and handing one to Y/n. She looked at him, confused.

He simply opened his pack, and then bit into the cake.

"Why do you have these with you?" She questioned, though she began nibbling on the little treat.

He shrugged. "Jurian found these at a bakery in mortal lands a few days ago. I thought you might like it."

She smiled, staring into the water as she slowly chewed.

"The inner circle were in the crowd tonight."

Y/n whipped her head to look at Lucien, but he didn't even seem bothered or interested in talking about the inner circle. He said it so casually, like he was telling her it was night and not day.

After a moment, Y/n spoke. "Was Elain there?"

He nodded, taking a bite of the cake. He took his time chewing before he gave her a response.

"I saw them after the fourth or fifth song. Apparently, they'd been watching since the first song."

Y/n gaped at him.

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Why are you so nonchalant about this?! Your mate saw you dancing with me on a song meant for people involved romantically!"

He blinked, then raised a brow. "And?"

"That might ruin any chances you had with her!"

He shrugged again. "There was never any chance anyway."

"Lucien! You-"

"Look Y/n. It's been long since the bond made itself known. It's been long enough that if she wanted to accept the bond, she would have. And long enough that if she didn't want the bond, she would have rejected it."

"Yes I know but you love her-"

"Let me speak, love. Let me get this off my chest. I never loved her. She didn't give me the chance to. The pull I felt towards her was simply the bond clouding my judgement. The desperation with which I seeked to gain her attention was me simply yearning for happiness. If I had not been so lonely and upset all the time, maybe I wouldn't even have acknowledged the bond if she ignored it too.

"And maybe I am a bastard for that, but I don't know what had gotten over me for the past year or so. I had lost almost all of myself, until you came along.

"You-" Lucien looked at Y/n, his eyes bright "-you made me realise that I did not need another person to make me happy, and that I didn't have to stop being myself for someone to love me. And i will be eternally grateful to you for it."

Y/n shook her head, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. "Lucien, you deserve to find love. You deserve to have a happy life."

"And I know that now. All because of you."

"But I did nothing." She sniffed, her cake forgotten in her hand.

"You didn't have to. Just simply being my friend and showing me kindness made a significant difference in how I saw myself."

"But what about Elain? What about the bond?"

He smiled. "She can be with anyone she wants now. She wanted to have control over some aspects of her life after having been forced to turn, and honestly, I don't blame her. I would have wanted to do the same if my life had been anything like her."

"And what about you?"

Y/n felt like she knew the answer, but she still wanted to know.

"I do not need a bond to be with someone I love, you know."

"And who is it that you love?"

His smile turned knowing. "You know the answer, don't you?"

"Tell me still. After all, you do love hearing yourself speak."

This was a serious moment, but Y/n felt like if she didn't try to lighten the air by joking, this would become real. And she didn't know if she could handle that.

"I love you, Y/n."

She closed her eyes, telling herself this was not real, that she would wake up soon, and realise this had been a dream. Just like all the times before she had had the dream of being with Lucien and then waking up, all alone in her bed and staring at the ceiling.

But when silence settled around her, him staring at her expectantly, she realised this was no dream.

That someone like Lucien really was in love with someone like her.

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eyes. "You don't mean that."

She felt his thumb brushing away the tear a moment before she felt his lips on her cheek. "I do. I am in love with you, my lady. I would do anything to show you how much I love you. To prove to you that I really do."

Her eyes fluttered open, staring into his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. "Why?"

He chuckled. "What do you mean why? There is not need of a reason for me to love you. I simply love you because you exist."

After a moment, she whispered what she had been dying to scream. "I love you, Lucien. I love you so much."

His smile widened, and he began closing the distance between them. "Then let me be yours."

Just before their lips met, she mumbled. "Be mine."

And her body ignited.

•○●⛦●○•

Her joints were creaking, but the old hag watched, and waited.

She had this primal need to have the little girl she'd watched grow up in front of her eyes find happiness, and she would threaten even the mother if the need arose to make Y/n happy.

But she didn't have to do that, because as she watched, the fire head male leaned in and pressed a kiss to Y/n's lips, and the old hag smiled, giddy with happiness and excitement.

And then she turned away, meaning to hobble back to the solstice celebration in the main square and leave the two younglings to enjoy the night together.

But then she paused, staring at the young female that stared at Y/n and the fire boy she'd fallen in love with.

Slowly, the old hag's brain remembered that this female with soft features and silky hair was the high lady's sister. And in turn, Lucien's mate.

Damn the mother. The old hag cursed, shaking her head.

"Leave them be." The hag ordered the girl in front of her, who turned to her with wide eyes. "They both deserve happiness. Don't you dare think about getting in the way."

The girl in the lilac dress nodded, her eyes becoming watery, but the hag had already begun walking away.

And after a final glance at the giggling couple on the riverbank, the girl turned away, jealousy and relief warring in her chest.

•○●⛦●○•

When Lucien pulled away, his hand still resting on her cheek, she couldn't stop a giggle from escaping. His lips quirked, a little swollen.

"Something funny?"

She shook her head, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the water. "Should we do a toast, my lord?"

He laughed at that, shifting closer to her as he put an arm around her shoulders. "And what will we toast with? We don't have wine or anything."

"We have these cakes." She pointed out.

He lifted his cake into the air. "Alright then. To love!"

Y/n wrinkled her nose. "And cakes!" She said as she raised her hand, and Lucien laughed.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Carefree and happy.

And Y/n simply watched, admiring.

Loving.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[freyjas-musings]

So , now that the event has officially come to an end I think I would like to say my 2 cents on the troll account that popped in the middle of an event . Irrespective of which fandom or side this person belongs to one thing that is accurate is that it's an abomination that shouldn't have been born at all. I am a 100% sure its someone everyone hates in their real life too.

TW : INSENSITIVE SA DISCOURSE POINTED OUT

Now, is it fair to blame the entire group of Elriels for that troll? No , but what is shitty is Elriels pretending an Elriel has "never" done anything like that.... That's inaccurate...

Below is an example from a verified Elriel account saying exactly the same sort of shit .... since some of you want to pretend it's not an elriel thing

There you go a verified Elriel who has been around for a while ... and consistent discourse in SA insensitivity. .. So its reasonable for people to assume the troll account is an Elriel... stop pretending to be Victims. I have a few more examples from other accounts that are verified Elriel too

One of Elriels lead Commissioners on Gwyn ... So this BS that Elriels have never made hate posts or insensitive posts about Gwyn is farthest from the truth. No one is buying it .

2. This troll account popped up in the middle of an event, an event that was going exceptionally well and was getting the recognition and reach it deserved , why would one of our own cause Drama to disrupt that ?

3. The trolls brain , the quality of that brain is unbelievable.... its unfortunately questionable ... How ?

Elriels: They are trying to pretend to be Elriel so they can make us look bad....

Troll : while completely engaging in anti gwyn and Gwynriel discourse ... Littering all over an event page by leaving disgusting comments on the content.... tagging all their posts Elriel

I mean the quality of that brain, if this was someone who created that account to make Elriels look bad why on earth would they say they "aren't" Elriel 😅😅😅😅😅

This is the sort of brain that comes up with bread and roses so please don't blame us for assuming this asshole is an Elriel.

Now , do I care which side that asshole belongs to ? Not really , anyone who has been here a while knows shitty people in this fandom are rampant irrespective of the side .

Sexual Abuse is not limited to females so when someone writes terrible things about SA survivors it's not gender based hate speech , Male assault is just as real and relevant too.. its an insult to SA Survivors as a whole ... I don't give a fuck about people's personal opinions about fictional characters but when you specifically write posts that are insensitive towards what is a very real issue in today's world you should stand up against it irrespective of the group .

I am specifically not tagging Elriel in this post because I have no interest in interacting with any of them . This is for my side , my people for Gwyn stans ... for Gwynriel stans .... so I am specifically asking Elriels to stay away from my blog and posts.

I am going to be inactive on this account for a few weeks , I am truly burnt out with the fandom and some of the things I have read about survivors in the recent few days has unfortunately triggered me a lot. Based on my discussion with my friends and my husband I do feel the best course of action for me would be to take a brief break ... I will be back for Elucien Week 🤗

[offtorivendell]

On Elain, Gwyn and their apparent romantic worthiness.

TW: mentions of death, violent or sexual assault, infertility and pregnancy/childbirth related trauma. Please do not proceed if these topics bother you.

Disclaimer: please, please engage with this post with kindness. I promise I am not writing it to stir the pot, but because I - and many others - are fed up with seeing hurtful and harmful rhetoric spewed by the fandom, yet having no back up when dealing with it. Word vomit incoming, I'm sorry. This has been bothering me for a while.

My love to everyone who has been hurt by things they've read in this fandom. 💜

It's 2024 and I cannot believe we are still seeing posts, almost daily, about both of these women; all giving reasons why they cannot possibly be with Azriel. And I don't mean the debatable but utterly harmless discussions about Elain not looking good in black or Gwyn blabbing to Merrill when asked not to. Whatever, go nuts. I mean the truly horrific takes based around things these two women have had no control.

Now, my post history makes it very obvious where I stand in terms of ships, and yes, I'm well aware I've spoken before about the inherent power imbalance - that I perceive - which would exist if Azriel ever became involved with any of the priestesses in the women's shelter he is charged with protecting (to be clear, that's not me suggesting that Gwyn and her story isn't powerful, or powerful representation to those who see themselves in her, nor is it personal to Gwyn, or indicative of any of the sheltered priestesses and their ability to heal; it's purely a function of Azriel's position of authority over their sanctuary). I want to reiterate that my stating my feelings about this was never done with the intent to shame people who do ship them; we all ship who we like, and real world ethics should rarely come into it.

That being said, the following, in my opinion, is one of those times.

Firstly, I just want to say that lived experience informs how we interpret fiction, so please let me clarify something: the people who have said that they don't think Gwyn is ready for a relationship yet, and that NSFW fan art of her with anyone makes them uncomfortable, are not in any way in the wrong. They're simply the other side of the coin to those who find it empowering, and both are valid responses, often related to personal trauma. The problem lies with those very few who say that Gwyn could never have a romantic relationship, and call those who talk and/or post about it "gross." Some have called her "damaged goods." This is absolutely wrong and whoever is doing it needs to stop.

The entire fandom, even those who find romantic or NSFW content involving Gwyn uncomfortable to consume, frequently acknowledges that her trauma doesn't define her, and of course she should be able to enjoy love whenever she feels ready for it. Those who say otherwise are readily condemned from all corners. I've seen it happen and called the people out myself, as have many other Elriel shippers when necessary. However, Elriels are still very regularly and very publicly blamed for the actions of a few (some of whom I truly believe are burner accounts wanting to cause chaos, with their Elriel themed usernames and no post history), despite our largely collective action to call them out when we see it.

Could we do better? Absolutely, but so can you!

Because, on the other hand, I've noticed that, whenever I or others have tried to explain why the pliable bones "theory" - which attempts to reason that Elain could never be endgame with Azriel, as she and any baby would die during the course of pregnancy or childbirth - is equally as harmful, we are met with people publicly and wholeheartedly refusing to understand why (especially recently). Some horrific comments have been made to my friends, not to mention all of those I see well after the fact, which are never widely condemned by any but us. People will argue back that we're wrong, and have even suggested we're weaponising infertility! On Mothers' Day, of all the fucking painful days to say that.

Some of the push back I've seen recently includes:

"Nobody has said Elain is infertile."

No, nobody has, and that's not what we're saying or have ever said. We know you don't think this, as the Elucien fandom loves to write and draw Elain and Lucien's hypothetical future children (which is super understandable, as this is a romantasy fandom after all - no shame, enjoy your warm fuzzies).

What we are saying is that, if it's true that Elain's anatomy wasn't changed as Feyre and Nesta's was - and to be clear I cannot stand that entire plot, I wish SJM had chosen literally any other reason why Feyre's pregnancy was dangerous, as it is simultaneously degrading and doesn't fit with her previously established lore - then Elain and Azriel, together^, would be functionally infertile. Yet it's only ever framed as Elain's body not being able to work with Azriel's, never the other way around.*

^Why didn't the bat boys have to sacrifice their wings to keep their wives/mates safe? Why did the women have to change their anatomy? Because it would make it harder for them to be all powerful? Well Nesta sacrificed her powers! Why not just have Feyre be cursed by an enemy or something, and Nesta found a way to use the Dread Trove to save them all. Ugh. I love SJM's books, but this was such a miss.

*HOSAB/HOFAS SPOILER: funnily enough, this was never said about Ruhn and his eventual mate, even though he actually did think he may be unable to father children, thanks to the Oracle's prophecy. People shipped the hell out of him and a couple of different women throughout the CC series, despite the chance he could never get them pregnant.

"People haven't called Elain damaged goods, so it's not the same. We're allowed to not like her."

My faerie porn* lover in christ, what the fuck do you think the pliable bones "theory" is actually doing? It is suggesting that Elain's hypothetical inability to survive having children with Azriel, and for those children to also survive childbirth, is impaired. Ergo, she's damaged.

We don't care if you don't like Elain, we're allowed to have different preferences in characters and ships. That has never been the problem.

*I use this term with affection as a great lover of the genre.

But "damaged" vs a functionally "impaired" uterus? It's the same damn thing, and sorry, it's misogynistic af, not to mention ableist and homophobic at a minimum. In the same breath you are also reducing your favourite to her apparently functional uterus (even though the pliable bones argument is medically inaccurate, by the way - this is really damning of the state of health education across so many countries).

"Hahaha/lol."

Yes, I have seen people laugh and treat this as a joke. As recently as tonight, in fact. It's disgusting.

Regardless of your lived experiences and shipping preferences, both of these takes about Elain and Gwyn are equally degrading and horrific and need to stop, but if you're only calling out the comments that hurt you/your friends/your ship and not the others, then you should maybe attempt some basic self reflection and analyse those double standards you're carrying.

This entire fandom needs to do better. I'll say again, for the umpteenth time, to any of my fellow Elriels that if you think mocking Gwyn's past is funny, then you're not mature enough to read an adult series. But this works both ways, and if you think mocking infertility is funny/use it as a win, then you're just as immature. I would really and truly appreciate it if we were not left alone to argue over and over again why discriminating against someone who couldn't "have a man's children" is wrong, and why many, many people in this adult fandom - that is largely comprised of women! - might find such a theory, and the resulting discourse, incredibly upsetting.

Infertility hurts; not having a kid when you want one can be viscerally painful. Besides that, I know very few people who have given birth who don't carry around some sort of emotional or physical trauma from doing so. Treating a character's hypothetical infertility with one man as a joke is gross.

Please don't call Gwyn "damaged goods" or suggest that Azriel would choose somebody else over Elain because she couldn't have his kids.

They are the same thing.

It's not hard to be kind. Pain is not a competition.

We should all do better, and take care of each other.

[nikethestatue]

A Ballad of Sorrow and Love

Please enjoy my contribution to this year's Elriel Month. Please be advised this is HIGHLY EXPLICIT. No one under 18 should read this story. This will be a 3 part story.

TW: Extreme sexual content, graphic violence, language, death

NOT RECOMMENDED for those with sensitive dispositions. Not recommended to be read in public. Not recommended to be read in the company of others.

The first part is pure, graphic smut which includes but not limited to domination, submission, choking, rough language, rough sex, wing penetration, anal, vaginal, oral, triple penetration and more.

_____________

Part I:

Death and His Lovely Fawn

This very moment was Azriel’s favourite, and therefore he chose to savour it every time. 

The thick, bulbous head of his cock, slowly circling his girl’s tight little hole. He taunted her with it, his veiny long shaft gripped in his scarred hand, teasing her and keeping her on edge. The tiny pink hole quivered in anticipation and apprehension, as if knowing what was about to happen to it. But his Ellie was his good girl and she’d take it without complaint. She always took everything he gave her without a murmur of protest: welcoming and acquiescent. His Ellie submitted to him so beautifully and that always brought a lustful smile to his lips, and a warming sense of comfort enveloped him whenever he saw her, eager and ready to receive him.

She was so gorgeous beneath him, her soft belly folding on into itself, her breaths ragged and anxious. Her pale heavy breasts rose and fell with each breath and her brown eyes watched him unblinkingly. She licked her lips, watching and waiting. He was in no hurry though, dipping the tip of his cock into her wet opening and making her hiss a breath, though he only did it to keep her on edge. 

“You were a bad girl, Ellie,” he murmured to her, shaking his head, “making me worry for your safety like that.”

When they went on missions, when he meted his punishments, when it was time for him to be judge and executioner, his Elllie was right next to him, unflinching and regal, quiet and deadly–his sublime dark princess. However, just as she worried about him, he was even more concerned about her. Her safety, her well-being, her whole existence were the only things that tethered him to this life, to his Court, to his family. Without his Elain, life was meaningless and Azriel had learned this simple fact long ago. He lived for his princess, and she lived and walked with him, and at his side, no matter what life threw at them.

He was a cold and deviant male, his soul as dark as the shadows that swirled around him. Elain though, she was his sun, his light, his hope, the one who never judged him and never stepped away from him. Even when he was drenched in the blood of their enemies. Even when he was cruel and violent and descended upon his helpless adversaries like a storm cloud. Ellie knew her place. And it was with him, with her prince. She guided him and was loyal to him and to his cause, and she ruled alongside him in their kingdom of obsidian, firelight and night-blooming jasmine. 

Their roles were clear and long-established–in their marriage, he fucked her, and she submitted and she screamed and she asked him for more. And it was perfect. 

“Do you want to be filled, princess?” he asked, looking between her legs and watching her little hole twitch in anticipation. “I will ride you very hard,” he warned. She nodded shyly, knowing that there was no escaping him or his desires. She was going to be ridden, and he chuckled, adding, “keep those cheeks nice and open for me. If you take me well, I will keep you on my cock for the night.”

She smiled her sweet, luminous smile at him and nodded. He kept her on his cock every night: this was something he expected of her. Sometimes, she fell asleep holding him in her mouth, sucking sleepily and lightly on him all through the night. If she ever moved away from him, he made sure to find her pretty mouth and pump it a little, so she remembered not to release him even for a second. In the morning, he gave her his seed at last. By then, she was so desperate for it, she sucked greedily and sloppily on him, even before he was fully awake. His cock was never left long without her attention. Their life, their love was always just as it should’ve been. 

“Suck a little,” he ordered, as he swung over her and closer to her mouth, “make it ready for your pretty pink asshole so I can get in there and ruin it.”

Before she could say anything, he pushed the heft of his shaft between her waiting lips and sunk deep all at once. She choked on him, breathing heavily, but he didn’t care if she gasped or gagged. In fact, he preferred it. He liked it when she became messy for him–drunk on his seed, on his cock, saliva and tears streaking her face, her hair tangled, her skin flushed and bruised. He straddled her chest, and held the back of her head in his hand, gripping the base of his dick in his available hand and guiding it in and out of her mouth. 

“That’s good, Ellie,” he murmured his approval. “That’s good…Work for your pleasure, girl,” he urged her, watching his tattooed cock disappear in and out her mouth. She slurped all over his heavy dick, while he fucked her steadily, dipping into her throat and watching his cockhead bulge inside and protrude against her neck. 

“No one sucks cock like you, princess,” he complimented her and she blushed her lovely rosy blush, smiling over his shaft. “Gods, I love filling your mouth…all your holes, but your mouth is delicious…sucking me so well. Let me get down your throat, sweet girl,” he adjusted himself above her, and began plunging in her mouth in earnest. She was moaning, struggling beneath him, her sharp nails digging into his thighs and he relished in the pain that she offered him. His hips pistoned smoothly in and out of her mouth, rubbing against her tongue, pushing as deep as he could go, which was all the way. He loved feeling her little nose pressing into his pelvis, sliding against his stomach while he was buried in her throat. 

“Suck, princess,” he ordered, “suck your lord’s cock.”

He was thrusting hard and steady, watching her eyes roll back in her head, and she softened into the mattress of their marital bed, her breathing shallow as she fell into the sensation of bliss that he was offering. She was no longer so much as sucked him, but became a willing vessel for him to push his hungry cock into, her mouth and throat open to his rough thrusting. 

“Doing so well, my princess,” he caressed her damp cheek, while his movements became more punishing and he groaned,  “I can’t stop right now. Drink up,” and he pumped harder, before shuddering with his violent release and spilling his seed in her mouth. He held his cock firmly inside, watching her swallow and drink his cum. Her small, hot hands gripped his buttocks and she held onto him, latching hard on his dick and sucking hungrily. He smiled at her enthusiasm and stroked her head. “I have plenty for you, sweetness,” he assured her. “You can have as much as you like.” She wanted all of it, as she finally swallowed the very last bit and then began licking his cock, cleaning him up. He leaned back on her chest, enjoying her thorough, dedicated work, lazily pushing in and out of her cum-smeared lips.

“Keep licking,” he encouraged. “I love watching you, my beautiful girl. My Princess.”

He let her lick for a while longer, always hard for her, but her pretty ass needed to be fucked and he was ready for his favourite hole of hers. Holding his cock in her mouth, he shifted back and stood by the edge of the bed, while she got on her hands and knees. Cupping his balls in his hand, he pushed her face lower and then squeezed one between her lips. She licked on the pouch readily, before she proceeded to suck one ball after another. He smiled. Always so eager to please him. Gods, he fucking loved her. Loved her more than he thought possible. More than it was comprehensible.

She covered his ballsack with wet, deep kisses, always thanking him for giving her his cum–as if he’d ever deny her! Everything that he was, and everything that he had–it was all for her. Every drop of his seed, every kiss, his hands and his touch, his tongue, his lips–she had it all. He cupped her chin and cheek, so he could tilt her face the way he wanted to, and after a bit of work and adjusting, he squeezed his entire ballsack in her mouth. He gagged and grunted breathlessly, her mouth completely overflowing with him, but he firmly clasped her face in his hand, making her suck his balls. She gripped his hips, holding onto him while he instructed, “eyes on me, princess. Ass up.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks from her stunningly beautiful watery-eyes and he thumbed them, before bringing his thumb to his lips and licking the salt of her tears.

She curved her back for him, thrusting her round fabulous ass up, while she watched him, seeing his approval for the ball sucking that she was giving him.

Her wet hot tongue worked over each ball, licking and laving, rubbing against the seam in between, all the while managing to keep the whole pouch inside. 

“Who is my perfect girl?” he asked, indulging her efforts by pulling on her ripe, thick nipples and twisting them between his fingers. She whimpered, her heavy tits hanging low to the mattress, filling his hand nicely, as he continued to twist and rub her nipples, squeezing them until she cried out against his balls. 

“You are doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised, “sucking my balls like that.”

She blinked at him, wanting more. He lazily drew his shaft over her face, watching her closely.

His incredible wife. 

The love of his long, rotten, miserable life. 

Everything was wrong, until he saw her, still a human woman, in a cobalt gown.

These days, she loved walking next to him, down the spacious, imposing hallways of their Court, in her black silken gowns, strings of diamonds and pearls draped over her neck and her arms, the silk whispering its own secret song to his shadows. Her delicate lovely hand always lying over his forearm, his strength supporting his cherished wife, while she leaned into him, but also led them forward. They always balanced each other–his strength to her wisdom, his brutality to her unwavering sense of justice, his loyalty to her power. And as their courtiers greeted them, as they met with dignitaries and emissaries of other Courts, she dripped his cum out of her well-used openings. 

Their Court was unique–traditional, ancient, full of magic and impregnated with unimaginable power. How he loved Calanmai and how he loved taking her in front of their Court. She was shy at first–after they were wed and after the Power shifted to her and to him and they took their rightful places as the Prince and Princess of the Court of Nightmares, the Power demanded that the old Order be re-established. That meant that when Calanmai came, the Princess was expected to take her Prince’s seed in order to revive their Court, year after year. Nothing was more beautiful than his Princess walking down the Great Hall towards him, completely naked, thousands of pairs of eyes watching her every move. Her breasts swayed heavily, her sex on full display. He waited for her by their black throne, ready for her to kneel at his feet, offering him herself and her loyalty. And then he lifted her and placed her on the black throne, and kneeled at her feet, indicating their equal status and his devotion to her. Then it was up to the Princess to spread her legs for the Prince, offer him her womb to seed and take him inside of her in front of the Court. By the gods, did he love spreading that pussy in front of everyone with his cock, filling her fully and then hammering into her until she writhed like a mad woman on that black stone throne. Though she didn’t have to, it was his Ellie who took up a new custom of kissing his balls in gratitude after he was finished with her. He didn’t mind it at all. 

Now, she kissed and licked his balls every time he came inside of her. And frankly, as she should have. As she was doing right now, still occupied with sucking and licking on his ballsack. He watched her proudly, her stunning face peeking from under his hard cock, her lips wrapped around his balls. 

“Good girl,” he urged her on, “keep going like that, sweetheart. I can’t wait to fuck your little ass, my favourite ballsucker.” 

She laughed at that, and he patted her head. Then, leaning over her, he harshly spread her ass cheeks, pulling them apart until the tight hole puckered. At the sight of it, his wings flared with excitement, and he grabbed the left claw in his hand and pressed it into her hole. The claw was thick and blunt, a curved piece of smooth bone with nerve endings all over it. It was annoyingly sensitive at times, especially when he was aroused, and his wings filled with blood just like his dick. He tapped her asshole with the claw, pushing just a bit inside, only enough to feel his Ellie pause her sucking and still between his legs. 

“Did I say you can stop?” he asked sternly, and pushed the claw a bit deeper inside her ass. She moaned against his balls, breathing loudly. Azriel smiled to himself. Ellie could suck his cock, lick his balls and lave his own anus for hours if he wanted her to. She knew that it was her duty to please him, just like he pleased her. And she loved nothing more than to please him, care for him, adore him, service him…because as impossible as it was, but she loved him just as much as he loved her. Her devotion to him was complete. She loved him deeply and obsessively, on par with his own blind, fanatical adoration of her. 

Easily, he flipped her back on her back and raised her legs high in the air, pressing them together. Her lips were swollen from all the sucking she’s been doing, and she looked ready and wanton, eager to be taken. He wrapped his fingers around both of her ankles, smashing her under her legs and not caring. She was used to it and she could take it. Her pussy lips closed, but the hole was still perfectly visible, just like he wanted. The other hole winked at him impatiently, so tiny, it was almost a sin to think that he’d be sinking his whole massive shaft into it in about a minute. His girl was tense, knowing that the pain was about to come, secretly wanting it, yet still fearing it. She never knew how he was going to take her. Sometimes, he was slow and gentle, and worked her hole open with great care and patience. Sometimes, he rammed into her hard and made her cry out and whine and beg him to slow down. Other times, he took her by surprise and pushed his whole length into her tight channel in one brutal shove. Often, he began thrusting immediately, not letting her adjust and enjoying the sight of her struggle. And other times, he pushed to the end, and then emptied completely, forcing dozens of deep, savage penetrations into her poor rectum. 

Elain knew who she married when she married him. He was a hard, determined, unforgiving, fearsome male. He loved her, but he was a rough and demanding lover. He used her to the fullest whenever he wanted, and expected her to comply enthusiastically. 

He grabbed his cock and slapped her slit harshly, making her cry out pitifully. He did it again and again, slapping her pussy with his cock and his hand, spanking it roughly and mercilessly. She jerked and bounced on the bed with each hit, her toes curling from the pressure. 

Without warning, he squeezed her ankles harder and pressed his cockhead into her anus. His piercing snagged on the tight rim of her hole, and she winced, as he worked his cock deeper, pushing through the resistance. She wailed softly, biting her lips and squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Princess, you look so pretty with my cock in your ass,” he laughed a delighted laugh and then slapped her buttock playfully. “I know it hurts, sweetheart, but you are opening so well for me. You are so tight and hot–it feels incredible.” He decided to be a little gentler than usual–just a little–and screwed his dick into her amazingly snug hole with some consideration. He needed to reward her for sucking him off as well as she did, but also punish her ass for putting herself in danger on their last mission. 

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like worrying about her. Their enemies were many, and powerful too. He didn’t want to put her in danger, but she was always with him, no matter where he went and what he did, therefore, it was inevitable that she’d be exposed to a slew of threats. 

The punishment for lack of care and disobedience, especially on their missions, was usually something sexual. And Azriel’s deviant mind was never short of ideas. She both loved it, and feared it. Sometimes, it was as mild as him bending her over, and forcing a thick, and uncomfortably big butt plug in her ass and then having her meet dignitaries, dance, socialise and dine with them, while the thing stretched and tortured her rectum. Inevitably, he’d pull her into some corner of their palace, lift up her skirt and while guests and courtiers were just behind the wall or a drape, he’d pull the plug out. Then she’d receive a quick, hard fuck, and forced to remain quiet while he pumped her ass full of cum. He’d leave her unsatisfied and high strung, before placing the plug back in. Then, she spent the rest of the evening aching, overfilled, her anus hurting, while her passage was full of seed and ivory. 

His favourite ‘punishment’ was to have her in his office, or at a reception, kneeling under a desk or a table, holding his huge cock in her mouth for hours. She’d have to be quiet, so as not to alert others to her presence, and her only nourishment for a few of those hours consisted of his cum, after he allowed her to suck him off. 

Azriel was a sexual sadist–-appropriate, he supposed, for the Prince of Hewn City–and he enjoyed inflicting sweet torturous sexual pain on his girl. Thankfully, his girl craved submission and certainly did not mind a bit of pain along with it.

Azriel kept forcing his shaft deeper and deeper into her, while she clutched the sheets on their bed in her hands, her back bowing deeply, as she took him in. Her pretty nose was scrunched from the pressure and she was wincing and moaning, watching Azriel’s satisfied expression. And satisfied he was. Opening her lush ass up with his dick was pleasure unlike any other. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he cursed, his voice gutteral and hoarse even to his own ears. He squeezed her ankles in his hands so hard, he knew he’d leave a mark, and then placed her legs on his shoulders, freeing his hands. He was trying not to blow his load immediately, though it was tempting. It’s not like he wouldn’t get hard almost instantly after he came, but he wanted to hold back and really wreck her perfect ass. 

She cried out and shook beneath him, her little hands pressing against his hips as if trying to push him back–which was adorable. Instead, he wrapped her arm around her fleshy soft thighs on his shoulder and leaned in, a wicked smile on his lips. 

“Opening for me like a flower,” he marvelled, looking between their bodies, watching her rim ripen and stretch around his dark shaft. He kissed her ankles and slapped her soft tit lightly, twisting her nipple until she screamed quietly. Clearly she was struggling today, his penetration more painful and uncomfortable than usual–which happened sometimes, particularly because she wasn’t prepared well–so he decided to take marginal pity on her. Catching his claw in his hand, he pulled his wing down and whispered, “open up, sweetness”. Obediently, Elain opened her mouth and wrapped her hands around the base of the claw, licking it with wide, hot swipes of her tongue.

“That’s a good girl!” Azriel approved, a shiver wracking his body from the dual stimulation. Her ass moved on his cock, as she settled in and relaxed her rectum in order for him to get deeper. Azriel sighed with enjoyment, watching her busy herself with his claw as he pumped in her tight passage, bottoming out at last. She groaned and winced, fully penetrated with his hot dick lodged in her ass, while sucking on his claw nervously. 

“Watch me as you suck, princess,” he reminded her, needing to see every expression of pain and pleasure on her delicate features. “You want your hole open nice and wide, right?”

She nodded eagerly, licking the tip of the claw, which was just as sensitive as his cockhead. Azriel placed one foot on the bed, giving himself better purchase, pulled the lips of her pussy wide apart with his finger, so he could see her pink, glistening slit and began fucking her ass roughly, with deep, hard strokes of his cock. She stilled, shocked into instant subservience by the barrage of his harsh pumps, squeezing his cock with her strong muscles, pulling it deeper inside with every thrust. 

“Fits well?” he winked at her, and she nodded, her body docile and soft, taking all of his cock obediently in her ass. Despite her cries and feeble protests, Azriel pushed a finger into her asshole, widening it even further, rubbing his thumb over the swollen, red rim, as he fucked her relentlessly. She was panting and screaming, damp with sweat, her tits bouncing wildly from how hard he was using her. “How about another?” he proposed, and before she could utter another protestation, he stuffed her mouth with his claw, making her suck on it. Meanwhile, he slowly inserted another finger into her anus, kissing her ankles and her foot, whispering, “you going to gape for me, treasure? I love this hole nice and wide open after I come in it. I want you leaking my cum tomorrow and I want the servants to know how well you were ridden by your lord.” He rubbed his fingers alongside his shaft inside of her, his thumb circling the rim for her enjoyment. But, today, he was in for a long ride, and because it took her a while to come from anal, he opted to start with that. He was going to savage her ass before he was going to allow her to climax.

Gods, he loved fucking his wife. 

It was a tight squeeze in her ass, with his dick and two fingers inside of her, but fuck, how he loved stretching her. He wiggled his fingers inside of her as much as he could in the tight heat of her passage and she shuddered and trembled, slobbering over the claw in her mouth. He didn’t stop, because he didn’t want to stave off her orgasm, which was barreling forth if the squeezing of her rectum was anything to go by. She deserved it. He’s used her hard and extensively today, and he wasn’t nearly done. But she deserved to come on his cock. 

“Come, sweetness,” he coaxed, “come on my dick. Come on my fingers. Look at me as you break.”

Her big brown doe eyes blinked, as she rubbed his claw in her fist, pumping it in her mouth, sucking on it, saliva spilling on her chin. 

“Work your ass on me, sweetheart. Show me how much you want it. Use my cock to get your ass off,” and she pushed down on him impatiently, moaning loudly, her head thrown back and her nipples sharp and puffy atop of her jolting tits. 

He watched her and let her do her thing for a moment, as she fucked herself on his thick dick, uncaring about the pain and the discomfort. But then it was time for him to take matters into his own hands and he began thrusting in her ravenously, his beastly nature overcoming his Fae self and his dark monster rising to the top and fluttering against his skin. The beast demanded more–never satisfied, never tired. While Elain screamed and cursed as her climax shook her body, he didn’t ease up his pounding. 

“I have to take all the holes,” he said by way of explanation, almost apologetically, as he grabbed his available wing and squeezed the base of the claw. She tensed, readying herself with this new invasion, gasping loudly for air, a sheen of sweat covering her brow and her chest. “Spread your legs, princess,” he ordered impatiently, “and hold them under your knees. Give me your tender pretty pussy to ride.”

She licked her lips, still and tight beneath him, the only motion between the two of them being his cock gliding in and out of her asshole. It wasn’t necessary, because she was already drenched, but Azriel spit in her pink slit and then slowly, but firmly eased his curved claw inside her welcoming opening. He worked the claw meticulously, feeding bit by bit into her, sinking into the blissful wet heat. He ignored her cries and teary whimpers, pushing the claw deeper and deeper, feeling his own scorching hot dick in her ass rubbing through the thin membrane. 

He leaned forward, his move causing both his cock and the claw to sink fully inside both of her holes and cupped her cheeks between his hands. 

“I love you. And I love it when you are double-penetrated. You are so beautiful. My lovely, perfect wife. My love.”

He wiped the tears that were slipping from her eyes and closed his own eyes, savouring the delicious, incredible sensation of being in both of her holes at once. Double penetration was never easy, but she took it willingly and allowed him to invade both of her tight passages whenever he wanted. And he wanted it pretty much all the time. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever compare to have his aching dick and his sensitive, tingling claws inside his wife at once. Wrapping his scarred palms over her silky, soft breasts he asked, “ready?”. She exhaled deeply, preparing herself and then nodded once. 

“Good girl. Letting her husband use her so well, letting him ride all her holes,” he cooed, forcing his wing to slide in and out of her pussy. He let her adjust, playing with her nipples, while she clawed at her forearms, still dazed and pained by the double penetration and wiggling her hips to get into a better position. While she tried to slow him down, he began thrusting in her ass again, pounding into her pussy at the same time, before bringing his other claw back to her lips. 

“That’s what good girls do,” he continued rambling, as he bottomed out in both of her holes again and again, “they let their husbands use them and their pretty holes, and get ridden hard and often. Fuck, treasure...you are so full of me! All your holes are stretched to the brim, but you are taking it so well.”

She was a vision, splayed in front of his eyes, her thighs open, having compliantly fallen to accommodate him. The rim of her asshole was swollen and red, and he watched his dick all but completely buried inside as he drilled her with short, powerful thrusts. The claw pumped in tandem to his cock, and he pushed it all the way inside of her, so that the smooth ivory disappeared entirely in her hole. Inside of her, he could feel the movement of both appendages, which was blowing his mind. He squeezed and pinched her nipples, while she sucked his other claw. He fucked her steadily and without pause for a while, finally coming inside her ass once, but he didn’t bother stopping or even pausing his thrusting. She was so compliant, completely unresisting, loving how he rode her so ferociously, that he didn’t dare change anything. He desperately wanted to see how big she’d gape for him with her used and abused anus, but he figured that she could take at least one more load of his cum in there before he pulled out.

“Do you want to ride me, princess?” he asked. Without interrupting her licking and sucking, she shook her head no. It wasn't surprising. His Ellie liked to be dominated in bed, and rarely took initiative to be on top of him. Unless he placed her on his dick and made her ride, she preferred him on top of her in any position. When it came to penetration, it was usually entirely his choice–where, how, how many holes and whether he wanted to be rough, or gentle. Her initiative was always with her mouth–she found the places she wanted to lick or suck or worship with her tongue and she went to work on him and his body. 

Before she could come, he withdrew and flipped her over, and she flopped on her front like a ragdoll. He shoved her legs wide apart and spread her thighs, positioning himself between them. Impatiently, he splayed her ass cheeks apart and whistled loudly. “Fuck. Me,” was all he could manage, as he watched with fascination the wide open hole that he’d drilled into her. He slapped both of her buttocks and told her, “I can see inside you, sweetness. Your asshole is full of cum, but I can see how tender and pink and pretty you are inside.”

He rubbed his dick urgently, eager to get back inside. 

“Your pussy needs my cum,” he decided. “I am going to fuck it now,”

She nodded obediently, knowing that he was going to put it in whatever hole he fancied at the moment.

He sunk into the tightness of her pussy in one strong, unwavering shove, filling her completely. Propping himself above her, he began fucking her hard and frantically, leaning closer and biting her neck. She mewled and sighed with pleasure, closing her eyes and enjoying the painful bite and the demanding pounding her pussy was receiving. He came inside of her quickly, filling her up, and then kneeled behind her and pulled her down by the hips, keeping his cock fully encased in her gloriously went centre. Spreading her cheeks apart, he then plunged his claw in her ass and used his hand to guide his thrusts, hammering the claw into her, while he began pumping her pussy with renewed enthusiasm. He wrapped his free hand around her neck and murmured into her ear, “I am going to choke you, sweetness, alright? I want you coming in both holes as I am choking you. When I am ready, I am going to come in your mouth so you can drink.”

He rubbed her neck in his huge hand and squeezed lightly. Whenever he took away her air, Elain orgasmed like she was possessed. The lack of oxygen made her climaxes last for minutes, and she trusted him to do it just right–squeeze hard enough for her to almost pass out, but not so tight that she didn’t feel the avalanche of her orgasms sweeping over her. Moving smoothly in her ass and her pussy, he squeezed her throat, careful to monitor how she responded and how her inner muscles tightened around him with every squeeze. He eased or increased the pressure of his fingers, while sliding his tongue in her mouth and making her suck on it. 

She was bleary-eyed and exhausted, her limbs soft and malleable, her holes succumbing to his savage thrusting, her breaths quiet and sharp. She just clutched her cheeks open for him, widening her hole for the claw as much as she could, but in these pre-orgasmic minutes she existed only for him and for his savagery. 

She came in her pussy first, crying and screaming loudly, bouncing beneath him as she shook and jerked, her passage spasming along his shaft. He fucked her through it, and then quickly withdrew and pushed her face in his lap, thrusting his wet dick in her mouth. 

“Suck until you come in your ass. I won’t give you any cum until you come all over my claw.”

-

Elain was standing by the mirror, putting in her earrings. She was completely naked, but she usually was in their Moon Palace, where they resided when they weren’t in Hewn City. In her Court, she usually wore slinky, flowing gowns, which enveloped her shapely body like second skin. Black or pearl-cream silk was her favourite. For formal occasions, she usually chose something with black and cobalt, the colours of her House and her husband. 

The Moon Palace was heated with magic, and only had three servants, while everything else was sustained by spells and various kinds of cardinal magic. Azriel’s responsibility centred around shields and wards, while Elain took care of everything else. 

Azriel was almost dressed, with only his suit jacket still draped over the chair. Elain would’ve been too, but he spent half an hour admiring the gaping hole of her ass, casually fingering her anus which was brimming with his cum. Then he dropped to his knees behind her and began licking her asshole like a man possessed. She had no other choice but to lean over the sink on her elbows and thrust her ass at him, while he licked the cum out of her. Once he was finally satisfied and she was messy from two orgasms, he let her dress. 

It was their weekly dinner at Rhysand and Feyre’s tonight, and while Azriel would’ve preferred to stay home, cook dinner and enjoy it with his wife, he knew that his brother would be disappointed if they didn’t show up. 

-

…Rhys and Cassian were lounging in the sitting room, enjoying brandy and the heat of the fireplace. 

“Az!” Rhysand greeted him. “You came!”

“Alright brother?” Cassian offered an easy nod.

“Alright,” Azriel responded in his usual laconic manner, before finding his usual seat in a large armchair. Elain sat next to him and he wrapped his arm around her.

“Anyone fancy greeting my wife?” he snapped.

Rhys pursed his lips, but inclined his head and nodded. “Good evening, Elain.”

Cassian waved a little wave. “Petal”.

Azriel wrapped his arms tighter around his wife’s soft form and watched Rhys sip his drink.

“Anything to report?” Cassian asked again.

Azriel nodded and said, “I think we’ve discovered who is responsible for setting fire to all the trade ships in the ports,”

Rhys perked up and leaned in, “You did?”

Azriel did not serve the High Lord in the same way he did before becoming the Prince of the Court of Nightmares, since he was now a Lord in his own right. However, for especially difficult espionage cases and information gathering, Rhys still relied on his former spymaster for help. Azriel didn’t mind it. He and his Ellie investigated cases together, and he loved spending that time together with her. Besides, she always liked to travel, and it allowed them the opportunity to visit various countries on the Continent. 

“So what? Talk to me!”

“We’ll have to check further,” Azriel stated vaguely. He hated giving incomplete information, but Rhys was always too eager and impatient.

“Can you give me a preliminary assessment?” Rhys insisted, his voice stern. It didn’t work on Azriel–the compulsion of the High Lord’s voice–which he used on others. Azriel had his own compulsion. 

“Rogue Fae who live in the Human Lands,” he explained. “Rebels, who are attempting to sow discord between the humans and the Prythian Fae. They are making it look like,”

“We are doing it,” Cassian concluded. “Prythian’s Fae, from above the former Wall,”

“Exactly,” Azriel agreed. 

The door opened and Nesta strolled in. 

“Oh, boy talk,” she scoffed.

“Male talk, Nes,” Cassian corrected his prickly mate. “Male.”

“Uh uh,” she muttered and made her way to Azriel and said, “Nice to see you, Az!” before stooping to kiss the top of his head. “Lainey girl, how are you?” she asked, kissing her sister as well. “I’ve missed you. You treating her well, Az?”

Rhys and Cassian watched her in silence, their expressions stony and sad somehow. 

“We are so good, Nesta,” he assured her. “My Ellie is very happy. Aren’t you, sweetness?”

“I overheard the last part of your conversation,” Nesta told them, taking her sister’s hand in hers. “Am I going on this mission with Az then?”

Azriel waved his hand, “I don’t think it’s necessary. Elain and I will do just fine. Won’t we, princess?”

Rhys interrupted them and said, “I think it might be prudent to go with Nesta, Az. Elain can go too, of course, but things could get dicey and Elain isn’t a fighter,”

“I just don’t think that Nesta needs to bother,” Azriel shrugged.

“Can you at least take Temal?” Cassian suggested.

Azriel bristled at the thought.

“I am not taking my son! By the gods, Cass. What the fuck? Why would we?”

Then he turned to Elain and asked, “unless you want him to accompany us, princess?”

He and his Ellie did not have biological children. They had tried for years, but then 100 years had passed, 200 years, and even longer, and she never conceived. They’ve been told that ‘it could happen at any time’ centuries ago, but lately, no one’s been giving those assurances anymore. Elain was young, but Azriel was over 800 years old, and it was unlikely that after all these years, he’d suddenly father a child. 

However, while he was trying to breed his wife year after year, they also went ahead and adopted an orphaned Illyrian boy named Temal. And somehow, along the way, Temal became perfectly enough for them. There was no need for other children for the two of them. Temal was a strapping lad, a capable five-syphon warrior, and an Illyrian Commander, who was married to an Illyrian princess. About two hundred years ago, they’d made Azriel and Elain grandparents for the first time, and Azriel absolutely adored his three grandchildren. But as for his own children–nah. Azriel was perfectly satisfied with what he had. Selfishly, he wasn’t too keen on sharing Elain with anyone, even his own offspring. His brothers and her sisters had five children between them and Azriel found himself long ago enjoying and relishing his role as an uncle. He was especially close to one of Nesta and Cassian’s daughters–Elena. She was the apple in his eye. However, when it came to Elain…there was something about childbirth that didn’t sit right with him. A gnawing thing in the back of his mind cautioned him…and he knew that something bad would happen…something sinister if she became pregnant. And he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk Elain. Never. 

Rhys rose from the divan and said, “we’ll discuss it later. It’s dinner time. I don’t think that you going alone…well, the two of you…is enough. I want you to find someone in addition to,”

Irritated, Azriel interrupted,

“And when we find them? What then?”

Rhys shrugged.

“Obtain the necessary information and you can deal with them as you sit fit after that.”

[slytherhys]

Silver Linings & Raspberry Fortunes

Prompt: New Beginnings (week one) @elriel-month

A/N: HAPPY ELRIEL MONTH! 🌹🦇 I had so much fun writing this silly little AU and I hope you all enjoy it too!

You can also read this story on AO3!

If there was one thing everyone knew about Elain Archeron it was that she didn’t like being single. Her friends knew it, her sisters knew it, her therapist knew it – even her ex-boyfriend, who wasn’t the most perceptive person Elain knew, had callously pointed it out right before Elain kicked him out of her house. Truth be told, she had a serious case of abandonment issues with a side of middle-child syndrome and – because those weren’t enough – a deep fear that she’d never be loved the way she very much wanted to be loved. The fact most men she met were a disappointment was just the cherry on top of a very emotionally damaging cake.

Which explained why she had accepted to go on a date, at her sister’s insistence, with a man she had never met or seen before in her life.

At first glance, it had seemed like a great idea. Feyre clearly had great taste in men (read: Rhysand), her friends were some of the most interesting people Elain had ever met and the alternative had been staying at home watching crappy romcoms, eating salt & vinegar chips and wondering if maybe installing a new dating app would finally lead to her meeting the man of her dreams (even though it never did). Looking back, maybe even a night of getting texts from strange men who were entirely too comfortable asking about her sex life did seem like the better choice. Because Elain Archeron had officially been stood up – which, considering the dress she was wearing, was a damn shame.

Elain sighed again, earning herself a look from the bartender that definitely felt a little bit exasperated. She couldn’t even blame him considering she’d been nursing the same drink for the past 45 minutes (a martini because it sounded fancy) and she probably looked as dejected as she felt, which probably didn’t go well with the overall Saturday night vibes he definitely preferred.

Smiling weakly, Elain turned to stare at the door for a few seconds longer, wondering if instead of giving up and going home, she should just stay, have a drink in a too-dark bar where no one could see how hot she looked in her very expensive dress, under the hostile gaze of an entirely too attractive bartender. Because she was 25 and she was single and if she spent another night wallowing in self-pity, she would probably dye her hair a ridiculous colour in the name of adventure. And that couldn’t happen – no matter how many times she tried to bleach her hair it never looked any good.

And she was absolutely not staying for – Elain checked her phone – Lucien Vanserra and his stupid red hair and his stupid “nice manners”. The only reason she wasn’t calling her sister to complain about the audacity of it all was because it was past 9pm and Feyre and Rhys were most likely enjoying the only time of the day their son actually slept.

All in all, Elain’s night was pretty fucking miserable – and she couldn’t even drink her pain away since the martini alone had cost a ridiculous amount of money and Elain was supposed to be saving money in the name of being a responsible adult.

“Can I get you another drink?” A low, gravelly voice sounded from behind the bar and Elain startled as she looked up. Hazel eyes stared her down, darting between her and her untouched drink. If the bartender had been attractive from afar, Elain could barely think with him standing so close. A strong nose, high cheekbones and a lush mouth that twitched under her perusal. His dark hair was unruly, as if he had run his hands through it in the past five minutes, but somehow, he made it look hot. Elain blinked once, twice before her brain finally caught up, making her cheeks heat under his gaze.

“Uh,” was her eloquent reply. “No.” She said, though it sounded more like a question than an answer.

He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching again as he eyed her martini. Elain shifted in her seat. “Is there something wrong with the drink I made you?” He asked teasingly and Elain flinched. It probably wasn’t good for his ego that she hadn’t touched it yet, was it?

Elain sighed, trying not to buckle under the embarrassment of being called out. “I don’t like martinis.” She confessed, unable to look the man in the eye. She probably seemed like an idiot, looking completely out of place in her stupid dress and glancing longingly at the door waiting for a stupid ginger man. Mother, she didn’t even like gingers. What the fuck had she been thinking?

The bartender laughed – well, he huffed but it sent a sparkle of heat down her spine, so it might as well had been a full-on laugh. “Why didn’t you order something else, then?”

Now it was her time to chuckle. Bitterly though because it was embarrassing how hard she had tried for a man that hadn’t even bothered to show up. “I wanted to look sophisticated.” She shrugged as if it didn’t really bother her that her cheeks were aflame and that the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life was looking at her as if she had lost her mind. She couldn’t even blame him – she probably had. “For my date.” She clarified at his confused face, as if that made it better.

The bartender frowned, eyeing her where she sat, and Elain felt heat lick up her body at his slow perusal. Even if she did feel like shit, it was a small victory that her boobs looked amazing – and that, apparently, the bartender thought so too.

“Who the fuck stood you up?” His midnight voice sent shivers down her spine, the incredulity in his question sending a jolt of satisfaction down her stomach.

Elain stood a little straighter, feeling encouraged in her own disbelief. “Can you believe it?” She asked, her voice sounding a bit shrill. If the bartender smiled at her outburst, Elain didn’t notice.  “And now I’m sitting here alone at this stupid bar waiting for a date I didn’t even want, drinking something I don’t even like–”

“You could’ve ordered something else.” The bartender muttered.

Elain, however, was too focused on her own tirade to be silenced. “And it’s too dark in this room for people to even notice my dress and I spent so much fucking money on it.” Elain shook her head, feeling ridiculous. “I really shouldn’t have spent that much money on a dress.” She confessed in a sigh, looking up and blushing as she noticed the amusement written on the bartender’s face. He raised an eyebrow, and it was absurd the way her body reacted to that small movement. Feeling chagrined, Elain smiled weakly. “Hi, I’m Elain.”

“Azriel,” his lips twitched. “Owner of the Stupid Bar.”

Of course he was. Elain groaned, dropping her head into her hands in a rather melodramatic fashion. “I’m so sorry.” She said, covering her face with her hands. “I’m usually much nicer than this.”

Azriel chuckled, tilting his head as he eyed her. “You look pretty fucking nice from where I’m standing.” He said, and Elain’s brain nearly short-circuited at the oh so casual way he said it. However, before she could answer he was leaning down, strong arms folding across the bar, hazel eyes set on her. “What do you really want to drink?”

Elain smiled sheepishly, pushing her martini away. “I’m not a big drinker.” She said, loving the challenge in his eyes as he waited for her answer. As if he wanted to figure her out. The thought of it shouldn’t have pleased her nearly as much as it did. “But I like sweet things.”

Azriel squinted his eyes ever so slightly, closely watching her expression. Elain wasn’t sure what he found, but her heart tripped inside her chest when he started to smirk.  “I’m not sure you do, Elain.” He mumbled, head tilting as his eyes trailed down her body again. No one had ever made her name sound so decadent. “Want to make this more interesting?”

Her entire body went hot and cold at the suggestion.  How was it that this man had already turned her entire night around when she had only known his name for five minutes? Elain bit her lip before leaning closer, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll make you a cocktail and if you don’t like it, I’ll give you whatever drink you want on the house.”

Elain raised her brows, embarrassingly charmed by everything this man said. “And if I do like it?”

As if he knew that question was coming, Azriel smirked, bending down until his face was close enough to hers that she could feel his breath warm against her lips. Elain felt her breath catch, her heart stutter inside her chest. “If you like it you’ll go on a date with me.”

Elain blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Why was this bar so fucking warm, all of the sudden? She looked around, aware that she had been so caught up in Azriel she had notice little else. When had the bar gotten so crowded? Elain would’ve felt claustrophobic if not for the man taking up all her attention. “Don’t you have to work?” She asked dumbly, painfully aware of the crowd behind her and of how silly she sounded.

Still, Azriel smiled softly. “Slow night.” He said, refusing to take his eyes off of her. She chuckled, feeling a bit frantic as she watched Azriel watch her back, a daring look in his hazel eyes.

��You want to go on a date with me?” She asked, just to be sure.

“Tonight, preferably.” Azriel said, throwing a cup into the air with an ease that spoke of years of experience.

Elain choked, laughing in disbelief. “Tonight?”

He looked up, all pure charm and wicked smiles. “That dress looks too fucking good on you for you to go home alone.”

Elain couldn’t help but giggle. “You sound very cocky.” Never mind that her entire body was heating up with his every word.

“Yes or no, Elain?”

She bit her lip, unsure. Wasn’t it crass of her to go on a date with another man only hours after being stood up? Elain wasn’t entirely sure what the protocol was in this situation, but she couldn’t exactly say no when everything in her was screaming at her to say yes, go. Truth be told, any thoughts of gingers and missed chances had been long gone. Everything seemed to start and end in the way Azriel, the bartender, was staring at her in the dim-lighted bar. And like Feyre always said, sometimes you needed to take hold of your own destiny.

“Yes.” She said, and Elain was sure she had never sounded so certain in her life. Maybe tomorrow she’d regretted and maybe in 10 years she would look back and think fondly of the one night she decided to be a bit brave and trust the rugged bartender who looked at her with wicked promises in his hazel eyes. Whatever outcome it all had, Elain felt absolutely no regret as she watched Azriel smile, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

And as she watched him pour drink after drink into a steel jigger, pouring liquids into a shaker as if this was just another drink, she knew that no matter the drink he made, Elain would be leaving the bar with him. Because sometimes things just felt right, and sometimes a failed date meant more than being left stranded in an unknown bar. And maybe to Azriel this was just another night – maybe this was something he did often. As a bartender, Elain assumed he had no shortage of pretty girls trying to convince him into a wild night. And yet, it didn’t feel like it was just any other night for him either – not as he kept glancing at her, a smile curving his lips every time he found her, as if relieved she hadn’t left yet. And Elain did not blush. She absolutely did not feel herself coming out of her skin as she watched his biceps bulge as he shook the shaker, and she definitely didn’t squirm in her seat every time those hazel eyes flickered in her direction with a promise that sent heat to her core.

Elain took a shaky breath as he began to pour a red drink into an empty glass in front of her, a sprig of spearmint and a few raspberries sitting prettily on top. Elain eyed her drink dubiously, avoiding Azriel’s watchful gaze. A shot of adrenaline went through her and Elain bit her lip as she eyed the fruit floating on top of her drink.

“What is it?” She twisted the glass around, watching as tiny bubbles danced to the top of the glass.

“Exactly what you need.” Azriel answered simply, making Elain chuckle in disbelief. Her cheeks probably resembled the exact colour of the drink in front of her and Elain wondered if the way his eyes flickered from the drink to her face meant he was noticing it as well.

She raised an eyebrow. “What makes you believe you know what I need, Azriel?” She wouldn’t tell him how he was most likely correct – how raspberries were her favourite fruit.

He shrugged, unbothered by her scepticism. “We can say it’s bartender’s intuition.”

Elain smiled, intrigued. “But what is it, really?”

“Stop stalling, beautiful.” He nodded towards the drink, urging her to take a sip. With little doubt he had nailed it, Elain did.

An explosion of flavour burst in her mouth, and it was all Elain could do not to react to the delicious drink in front of her. The tartness of the raspberry and the hint of lemon mixed perfectly with the sweetness of whatever liquor Azriel had chosen. The freshness of the spearmint kept the drink from being too sweet and – no matter how unbelievable it seemed – it was everything Elain loved. She didn’t know how, but it was everything she needed.

Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave hers, cautious hope clear in his face as he waited for her verdict. Elain wasn’t sure what kind of expression she had on her face, but before she could even say a word, Azriel’s shoulders sagged, and a brilliant smile took over his face.

“So?” He asked anyway, as if needing to hear it coming from her mouth.

Elain finally let herself smile, impressed and a little turned on by how fucking good he was. “What is this drink called?” She asked instead, stalling once again. Because she wasn’t sure what it all meant, but she knew it was more than just a drink.

Azriel huffed, a bit exasperated. “Really?” He groaned, making Elain chuckle.

“Just indulge me, please.”

“It’s called Kismet.” He shrugged, as if his words didn’t send her heart tumbling down her tummy. “It’s an invention of mine.” Elain could’ve sworn his cheeks darkened a bit. Still, his eyes never left hers.

Elain smiled sweetly, making herself comfortable where she sat. Azriel watched her with amusement. “Well, you can make me another one since I’ll be waiting for a while.” She said, eyeing the clock. The bar would close soon enough but Elain didn’t mind waiting. She didn’t mind waiting at all. “Seems to me we’re going on a date, Azriel.”

[darkest-fantasy]

Disgusting DM’s sent from an Elriel to a popular Gwynriel creator are circulating around the fandom. I was severely disturbed when I saw the contents and almost cried from how horrifying it was.

But the real issue today is that Elriels are fully calling this message fake. Saying the creator made her friend send the message? It is actually DISGUSTING that they choose to focus on that instead of the actual contents.

Tw below

How about focusing on the real issues here! Telling someone to die and should get graped is a literal threat. Saying Gwyn is “damaged goods” for getting sa’d and now cannot have intercourse is CONCERNING. Gwyn is not going to unalive herself because she can’t be with az?

I cannot believe there are people out there saying things like this about my favourite sjm character. I can’t believe a ship has caused people to act like this. I have never seen this kind of behaviour in the almost ten years I’ve been reading ACOTAR.

These people need to be held ACCOUNTABLE!

If you want to see the dm, it is on yaz.the.bookish instagram story. I also have it saved if you want me to send it to you because the 24 hours might be over.

[shedoessoshedoes]

So Close

Inspired entirely by the movie Enchanted and the 2015 adaptation of Cinderella, I give you *drumroll please* PINING ELRIEL DANCING (yayyyyyyy) hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you do 😘

wc: 1165

tw: none

“Thank you all for your presence here tonight,” Helion announces to the crowd. “It is my privilege to share the joy of my newfound family with you.” He glances over to Lucien and the former Lady of Autumn, now High Lady of Day. “Love truly comes from the strangest of places. In honor of our story, Andromeda and I invite you to dance this final waltz with a partner you did not come with tonight. Those we are bound to are not always those we are meant to be with. Seek out a different kind of love, whether that be a romance or a friendship, as we partake in the dance of the sun.” 

Elain doesn’t know what to do with herself. She had come tonight with Lucien, as a favor to Rhys and Feyre (“Please, Elain,” Feyre had begged. “Just to show everyone that you’re trying.”) (Nevermind that Elain did not want to try with Lucien. Nevermind that perhaps Elain loved someone else.), and had spent most of the night on his arm. Helion’s speech had described her story a little too perfectly. She, too, was seen as belonging to a male she did not love. She, too, had found love outside of that binding. She, too, could not act on how she felt. She, too, had spent too much time wondering if perhaps the male she wanted to be hers felt the same way. But nevermind all of that, too. It wasn’t like she was in any position to ask Azriel to dance. 

She watches as Rhys bows to Nesta, still in the process of paying his penance for all the years of judgment and hate. Cassian sweeps Feyre off her feet in a twirl, and she tosses her head back and laughs. It’s a typical scene: no one would think to wonder whether silly old Elain would have anyone to dance with. She melts slowly back against the wall, but then–there he is. 

Looking every inch the dark, tortured soul he is, Azriel simply inclines his head to her. Elain’s breath catches in her throat. He is so beautiful. She loves him so much. They haven’t spoken since the Solstice. “A dance, Lady Elain?” 

Elain can do nothing but nod silently and slip her hand into his as he leads her to the center of the room. Sparks shoot up her arm from where their bodies touch. They settle into position, and the dance begins. 

—-

She looks stunning. In a cobalt blue gown, she might as well just declared herself as his, even if she stepped into the room on the arm of Lucien Vanserra. Azriel cannot breathe if he looks at her for too long. But the combination of the dress, and Helion’s speech, and six months of agony have Azriel losing control of himself. Besides, he couldn’t leave her standing alone during the last dance of the ball, could he? He can explain it away to Rhys, can claim that he asked her to dance with the intentions of a brother. Though his thoughts about her are anything but fraternal. 

This dance is simple. They both know it by heart. Azriel slides one hand around her waist, pulling her as close as the skirts of her dress will allow (which is not nearly close enough), and suddenly all the world is gone. 

They sway back and forth, and then Elain’s wrist comes to rest against his, and fuck, but that one simple touch has him nearly undone. “Elain,” he breathes out, and she takes an unsteady breath. Perhaps, five hundred years of life have required Azriel’s more romantic dreams to die. Perhaps he said goodbye to them far too quickly, because every dream that he ever could have had is here, in front of him, wrapped up in the package that is Elain Archeron. 

“They’re all looking at you,” she whispers. “You never dance.” This is true, mostly. The last time he danced was with Nesta in the Hewn City, and while that had been enjoyable, it hadn’t exactly been a choice. And it’s not like the Day Court citizens frequent Velaris’s Starfall celebrations where they could have seen him dance with his family. 

“Believe me,” he murmurs back, just loud enough for her to hear. “They’re all looking at you.” 

They twirl out for their first promenade, Elain’s hands resting on his arm, and he spins her around before pulling her back into a proper waltzing position–the closest they’ve been so far tonight. The closest they’ve been since Rhys’s godsdamn order. Elain’s heartbeat stutters, and Azriel wants to put his mouth on her pulse. Her entire neck and shoulders are visible in her gown, and it is entirely too distracting. 

He twirls her out and around him, and she laughs, and he would crawl over glass to hear that sound again. When he pulls her back in, her back is to his front, his hand covering hers on her hip. She leans back into him just slightly, and its his breath catching this time. When she spins around to face him, he can almost believe that this isn’t pretend. Can almost believe that this stunning female is actually his. The circle they’re clearing for their dance is larger now, other couples stopping to watch them. Az catches sight of Nesta with a small knowing smile on her face. 

This time, when he twirls her, he decides to show off, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up off the ground. Elain’s smile is so bright it could replace the Day Court sun, and Azriel can see Rhys and Lucien glaring at him from two sides of the ballroom. He doesn’t care. He does it again, lifts her higher, and when Elain comes back down, her lips are far too close to his. He dips her to finish the dance, and the room erupts into applause. Elain looks around, startled, and blushes. Azriel pulls her back upright and whispers quickly into her ear. “I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life. Let me explain it to you? Later tonight?” Then he’s pulling back before he can second-guess this massive risk he’s taking, and Elain gives him a tiny nod as Lucien returns to his mate’s side. 

“Lovely dancing Elain, Shadowsinger,” he says, and Azriel can feel a fight brewing in his bones. So he does nothing but incline his head to Lucien, bow to Elain, and step away. He’s sure he’ll have a shitstorm coming his way from Rhys, but right now, he can’t find it in himself to care. He sends a shadow over to Elain and watches it whisper into her ear. Her eyes tell him she understands. 

Later that night, he’s waiting, standing by the window of his room, wings folded in tight, a glass of whisky in his hand. The sound comes right when he thought that it would. Footsteps, and then a single knock. Elain. He takes a breath, whispers a prayer to the Mother. And goes to open the door.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let me know what you think!! Comments/feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome. My ask box is open--let me know what you want to read next!

[myromanempiree]

A rant about Elain

TW: Might piss people (shippers) off ig

Elain should be happy.

Whichever path she chooses, choosing one of the two, maybe a new guy, her being single or even exploring her sexuality (which would be some...better queer rep in Maas' books tbh, sorry not sorry Mor)

Even with all of those different outcomes, I genuinely don't care if Elains book has romance in it.

I want her to heal. To fully heal without a male being the foundation of her coping and healing, (which she has been doing well with that and Im glad) I want Elain to start a huge national park/garden and live happily ever after with her baking and cats or sm.

Admittedly, I love Elucien. I think they would be cute and work well together, however... Wouldn't it be so nice to read about a female MC whose whole plot isnt "WhO wIlL sHe ChOose" and the author/readers tying her worth to a man.

Elain is a wonderful, sweet person. Minimising her to gardens, baking and Elucien vs. Elriel is so ridiculous. She is so mentally strong, and is the perfect balance of light and dark and she's so different from her sisters, so I hope the story line reflects that, rather than her sisters' of self-destruct, angsty emo moments, sexual tension and a surprise mating bond.

I would be LOVE a novella of nothing but Elains adventures on her own/with her friends, deciding she doesn't belong to anyone but herself (WHICH THE ABSENCE OF HER AUTONOMY HAS BEEN SOMETHING OF A TRACK RECORD FOR HER SINCE SHE WAS ELEVEN) and deciding that love isn't all women are fit for.

Not only did she say "I don't want a mate" she also said, "I. dont. Want. A. Male"

M.A.L.E

Elain WANTS to be happily single guys, and wdyk she could be in her hoe era too 🤷🏾‍♀️

Oh well, idk

However, knowing Maas, she would want smut and romance and whatnot in her books.

Though one thing I'm genuinely scared of, is, Maas openly stated she wants to write Az smut. I don't want Elain to end up with Az if its just going to be for funsies and some smut. :(

That would be so powerful to see a gentle, soft, traditionally fem. MC, choose to love and belong to herself rather than a man. Or even Elain starting up another Dusk Court, and healing the land and people and becoming a High Lady who is wise, motherly and a wonderful influence. Idk-- it just would be so cool.

[acourtofquestions]

Welcome page/post thx 2 A Court of Questions by @lavendarneverlands

This is my (secondary/“side”) blog for my first read (& adoration of) the Maasverse! — But take this as a heads up: I mix up the two pages frequently😅😂 sorry in advance for any confusion! — Think of this page like Potterless (except probably not half as cohesive & good as the podcast lol😂). I love enjoying the series with the fandom so please feel free to reach out or “read with me” (it’s why I’m on Tumblr; no one I know reads these). 🫶

LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT

This is a Maasverse related blog, thus it does discuss the series & spoilers (depending on where you are in the books) HOWEVER I try to keep up to date with spoiler warnings (often in the form of: #tags, red, 🚨, or what I call the “more” bar of safety) & I hope it makes it accessible for all readers! I also really try to keep this blog inclusive & friendly for everyone (any character, any ship, any reader, any person… or fae I suppose too :-) & use proper content warnings (as I greatly appreciate that in others too) … so thank you!!

As I am unfortunately human here’s a lil up-to-date guide for what is & is not discussed thus far (& as I also try to avoid spoilers for the books I haven’t gotten to yet)

— I have read ALL of ACOTAR,

— & Currently am on a TOG series binge (everything so far up to EoS including TAB; next up after finishing EoS (which I’m about a quarter way through) is ToD & then KoA).

— None of CC (it’s next after the TOG series).

Be warned: I’m a rambler of posts & content posting, and autocorrect is my true enemy😂🤣 p.s. I’m new here & always trying to learn!😊 I do my best to do my due-diligence and properly credit. And use TW whenever I can (as I need it in my life too <3

I leave most “reaction” posts up from my first reads. Opinions of course change over time! I try to edit & update (& or re-tag) but some stay old.

Currently my favorites and majority are:

ACOTAR

I love the Archeron sisters (Feyre is dear to me, I think Nesta is an important kind of character, and I look forward to more Elain in what I’m calling ACOTAR 5&1/2)

THE Valkyrie (Gwyn esp.)

I can go any which way with the Elriel/Elucien/Gwynriel/ElGwyn/etc. “debate” (like I said though I’m here for all fans and prefer to keep it generally positive/friendly; we’re all just enjoying stories & art😊).

I love Feysand (sry Tam-Tam😅 I struggle with him)

TOG

I adore Celaena & Aelin (for posts on both I tend to call her “Aelin Sardothien” cause I love ❤️‍🔥 fireheart ;-)

Rowaelin is my fav ship (though you will find it was not an immediate love for “bird-boy”😂 from page 1😅) the “Team Chaol” force was once strong long ago (I don’t hate him now, I just like them as friends) though I’ve also shipped all the ships at some point🤣 (I like a lot of fandoms and have a very “SQUIRREL!” personality😅😂 so I do make a lot of references, despite this being my Maasverse page)

Dorian will ALWAYS be beloved as a character,

and Sam Cortland always deserves more (I love him & am still sad😅).

Lysandra is a favorite.

Manon and the 13 are killer queens (WE STAN).

— Abraxos & Fleetfoot (TOG) & “The House” (ACOSF) as characters hold a candle to no other. —

I know nothing about “CC” Crescent City (other than some positive reputations, kick-ass red heads, and intriguing covers!) … + a possible crossover (I hope)?!?

Thank YOU “fellow dreamers” for welcoming ME! into your feed & Maasverse!

& to my fellow “first time readers” Welcome to you too! 💕

+ All you old-timers THANK YOU for your loving guide notes & support (for ALL THE FANDOM FEELS😂)!

… And yeah… Hi! Much love❤️💚🩷🩵🧡 all are welcome!!! This blog does NOT discriminate & is a safe place to enjoy fandoms (because it’s about enjoying stories!) regardless of race, nationality, ability/disability, gender, sexuality, belief, age, etc. Feel free to message & tag😊 + if it helps in the matter of communicating: I identify as she/her (please always feel free to tell me your pronouns if you like :-) if you wanna call me by something other than my blog name/names you can call me Lila, I’m a Zellenial. I primarily speak English (though I know some others, they just aren’t Tumblr handy… and I kinda mean that literally as sign language unfortunately doesn’t translate well here😅😂). & I look forward to enjoying stories with you!

And there’s nothing left to say but…

— LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT —

[possumsandprose]

I'm back from Elriel month with this piece to contribute to #cassianappreciationweek2023, hope you like it!

TW: Cassian is a massive simp for Nesta in this, so if that bothers you move along

Word count: about 1.7 K

The sun was shining brightly in the sky as Cassian hung his sword back on the wall. Training at the House of Wind had been going rather well, with a record number of priestesses showing up for training, and Az had found some time off from whatever tasks Rhys had assigned him to assist with teaching. Az was as broody as ever, his usual quiet demeanor never failing and the air of sadness and mystery that clung to him like an inescapable mist that had been with him since the day they first met way back in the Illyrian training camps still thick in the air. But he had Nesta now, and that made everything okay. Cassian still couldn't believe that he had found his mate. When they were boys, his brothers would always laugh and joke around with him about someday finding a mate, none of them ever believing it would actually happen. But somehow, for some reason, the Mother and the Cauldron and whatever gods dwelt above had smiled down upon him and blessed him with his beautiful Nesta.

As his thoughts swirled around her, as though summoned, Nesta appeared behind him. She was dressed in her black leathers, hair tied in a braided bun atop her head, looking stunning and regal even though she was covered in sweat and blood. He didn't turn to look at her, knowing she was taking her time to admire his shirtless form, which he certainly wasn't going to complain about. He made himself appear busy fixing weapons on the walls, flexing his wings and muscles perhaps just a little more than necessary.

At last, when he couldn't find anything else to pretend to do, he turned around, smirking as he noted her eyes fixed intently upon him.

"See anything you like, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Your tattoos...what do they mean? I know they came after you had completed the Blood Rite, but you never actually told me what they mean," Nesta replied.

Well. Of all the things he was expecting her to ask, that was not one of them. He enjoyed talking about them, though, as anyone else likes to boast about themselves, so he gestured for her to take a seat as he sat down next to her on one of the benches. Everyone else had gone by this point, so it was just him and her.

"All of them mean different things. This one-" he pointed to a symbol that resembled fire, "is for courage. This is given to all those who win the Tournament of Champions."

"Tournament of Champions?"

This was clearly news to Nesta, though that shouldn't have surprised him given her lack of time around Illyria.

"It's a huge tournament hosted once every 20 years, and it falls just before the Blood Rite on the year it happens. Participation isn't mandatory, but nearly everyone does both for bragging rights and the fact they get to beat up other people with no consequences."

If Cassian was honest with himself, he applied largely for the latter, wanting the ability to attack, bruise, and scar all those who had mocked him or bullied him with the assurance that there was nothing they could do to stop him.

"It was held over a 3 day period, everyone breaking off into pairs of two to spar, the victor advancing to the next round. Az and Rhys both elected not to compete, Az due to his hatred of all our customs and Rhys because he was away with the High Lord doing some important thing or another. Anyway, I won the tournament, and the winner gets the tattoo to prove it."

He glanced at Nesta, wondering if perhaps she had zoned out, or had fixed that hawk-eyed stare upon him expressing her displeasure at what she would call behaviour of "Illyrian pigs". However, she appeared greatly intrigued by his stories.

"How fascinating. And this one?"

The one she pointed to resembled one of his favourite constellations, the bow and arrow.

"That one I won after killing a beast that roamed across the mountains. No one is quite sure what it is or where it came from, just that every year it appears, striking camps and slaying villagers. Whoever could finally kill it would win eternal glory. When I was 33, it emerged near our camp. I had been awake all night, I think I was fighting with some idiot over the proper way to hold a spear. Anyway, I heard screaming coming from outside the camp, and ran out with all the others, and there it was. Some call it the Daemonium, but most do not speak its name in fear of summoning it. It stole 6 of the guards away and disappeared off to its cave, and we all knew the hunt was on.

"Most waited at the entrance to its lair, at their demise. It sits at the very edge of a high mountain containing a very gradual slope covered in sharp rocks. Every year we are warned never to wait there, lest it creep up and throw us into them so we may never fly or walk again, but every year there are that large group of idiots who either think they're greater than centuries of others or had one too many drinks or got a dare from someone who despised them, and like clockwork another group was slain. But I did not go there. The monster had to drink, I figured, and so I traced its path from the sky to the river. And there I saw my opportunity."

He took this moment to glance briefly at Nesta, who to his delight and pride was staring, completely transfixed by his tale. He hadn't really had anyone to boast about it to, since he'd already told the story to his family a thousand times and all the Illyrians already knew, but something about telling his mate about his greatest accomplishments made all of the suffering to get them worth it.

"This one-" he pointed to a tattoo that he told everyone was a great mighty beast from myths, deciding that for the first time in his life he would be truthful about it, "this one is a unicorn." Nesta raised an eyebrow at him.

"Rhys, Az and I all got really drunk one night and whoever lost a game of cards had to get the winner's choice marked on them. Azriel, that cheating bastard, I swear used his shadows to change the cards around and see what we all had, but he smashed us by a mile. He made me get a unicorn, likely knowing that I would have to explain what it was to everyone who saw me without a shirt on. Luckily, I can say it was designed after some great beast and nobody questions it."

"These," he waved a calloused hand at the majority of the ink lines that swirled across the planes of his chest, "as you already know, are the markings that those who champion the Blood Rite at our level receive. After it's over, the festivities are immense. All of Windhaven is filled with food and music and games and pretty females and pretty much anything a male could want. Those who made it to Oristian or higher receive a place of honour. Devlon and the other pricks weren't happy that we made it but they didn't really have a choice but to let us in. Rhys' father was thrilled, of course, and his mother treated all of us like her own children. Even Az's mother had been allowed some time out of work to come and see him. I think that was the happiest I've ever seen him, when he was covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and gods only know what else, barely cling on to life, and his mother that he hadn't seen in year came and hugged him." Cassian would deny it if anyone asked, but a small tear appeared in his eye thinking about it. Az hardly every smiled, but he was beaming ear to ear then.

"There's a few other ones on here, one's a bargain with Mor over something stupid from 2 centuries ago, a few are various lucky symbols, none of them particularly important."

"What about this one?" Nesta ran her finger along a design that went from the palm of his hand, circled his wrist, and ended atop his shoulder.

That one was Cassian's favourite, and he had deliberately saved it for last, hoping she would ask about it.

"It's a bond between myself, Rhys, and Az. We made it right before the Blood Rite began. Very few people help others during it, as it's a very cutthroat competition, but we made a pact so that we would always be able to find each other. It worked, too, even though they threw us all in different parts of the forest by the third day we were all together again. And after the Rite, we made an official bargain: we swore never to turn our backs on each other, and that no matter what happened or who came or left our lives, we would always be together, our bond stronger than that of any biological brothers."

Nesta smiled at him, and the bond sang between them. He loved making her smile.

"Thank you for sharing these with me. They tell such a beautiful story. The long and complex tale of my mate."

He smiled, and said, "Are you calling me old?"

"Yes. I am. I'm also saying that you need to go fix that shelf I asked you to, or that long and complex tale will be coming to an end very, very shortly," Nesta snapped, perhaps fearing she had been a little too soft.

"I do love it when you threaten me, Nesta darling," Cassian responded calmly, and they both walked off together.

Taglist: @cassianappreciationweek

[cateyesinlove]

@elriel-month prompt; Veil

The Veil Between Life and Death

TW: Death

AO3 link

Azriel had been able to fly them as far as they could from Koschei’s shadows, some of Azriels shadows had turned on them when they had been all alone with them. Illyrians and Valkyries were side by side dealing with his army of undead soldiers and beasts. Feyre and Rhysand lead the court’s armies as temporal High Queen and King, against half of Autumn’s armies under Beron and springs with Tamlain. The ruler of Spring in his madness had struck a deal with the evil entity and had gained incredible power, however, the man now turn beast had finally matched the beast he was on the inside.

“Hold on!” Azirel grunted as another shadow tried to block them from leaving, he decided to start using his winnowing instead of flying, exhausted from having to defend them without the powers of Elain.

They had sneaked with the twins inside the fortress where Vassa was captured. Koschei had been gaining his strength by using the magic of her flames when she was a firebird and had slowly been killing her. Lucien was driven to desperation to get her back and had stuck a bargain with them. He would protect Feyre and give his life for Feyre if needed as long as they did everything they could to free Vassa. They were after all the eyes and ears of the Night Court, they had become the security mechanism for the Night Court since the war started. They couldn’t leave Feyre and Rhys without anyone extremely powerful watching their backs.

They had succeeded in their mission, finding Vassa and sending her with Nuala to Lucien but Koschei had found them. They had given a good fight but after all the power he had it would take more than just them to defeat him, Cerriedwen had been able to escape and so had they until the shadows turned on them and Elain had been unable to protect the shadows or see this coming. Elains damage hadn’t been physical, Koschei had used his magic to mess with Elains head, leaving her feeling broken and poisoned on the inside, drowning in the images of pain and darkness, a darkness like no other, not like Azriel’s darkness this one consumed her and eat her light, her world-shattering with every second. She closed her eyes resting on Azriel.

She felt some water around her the next time she returned from the shattered pieces of her mind. This reminded her so much of her time in the cauldron, no sense of time, no comprehensible thoughts, only images, and flashes, images one after the other.

“Lain,” he whispered trying to wake her up, “my flower, open your eyes,”

Elain felt a pull to reality and opened her eyes, she could see they were in a waterfall and the sun was setting, she could also feel Azriels, his strength and his presence fading, she gasped and pushed herself off him and started examining him, “What happened she demanded”

Azriel smirked and while holding himself with one hand he took the other one and touched his side, the water around them turning pink and shades of red. With shaking hands, she touched it making Azriel wince, “When?”

“Last time we winnowed,” he explained leaning his forehead against her shoulder exhausted, he panted “After you went under, your layer of protection and he was able to infect some of my shadows and strike,” he coughed some blood, Elain could feel it dripping in her back.

Water. They were in the water she could heal him, one of the many spells she had learned of Majda. “I’ll heal you az,” she whispered and lay him down in her lap, “just hold on” she whispered desperation flooding her senses, her magic starting to leak uncontrollably. “You will be okay,” she said closing her eyes and tears running down her cheeks.

He had to be okay, he had to live, he had to be there for everything that was coming their way.

All the happiness, all the love and the good moments and the bad, their wedding and their new house and their babies. Their twins, twins that had arrived almost 5 years early.

“You can’t leave me Az,” she pleaded eyes still close and conjuring the spell in her mind, the water around them should enhance it and be able to cure even the most deadly of wounds. “You have to stay, I need you to stay.” she said trying for her voice not to break. “You are my person, my companion, and my partner, my best friend. You are the only one who sees me Az, the only person who was able to put everything aside and get to know me,”

“Elain,” he whispered, wiping her tears away, “Loving you has been the one thing to bring me pure joy and peace.”

“And we have much more to live together,” she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, she sobbed not being able to contain her pain any longer, amber and brown eyes clashing, two sets that knew the other so well, many stares and flirty glances through the years. Two souls bounded by something just as strong as a mating bond, their choice. Shadows started going crazy around them, almost as if covering them from the world, giving them the privacy they needed for a final goodbye.

“Azriel you can’t leave, please,” she desperately pleaded, “You can’t leave me now that I have you, we were meant for more,”

“The moments I shared with you were worth all of it,” he told her, holding her hand.

After all the heartbreak and pain, the danger, their story couldn’t end here. She wouldn’t let it.

“This can’t be how we part ways,” she said grieving the life they were meant to have, the many paths their story could have gone.

“Don’t cry my love” he whispered his eyes closing and the shadows around them slowing down and falling to the water.

“No, no, no, no!” she screamed sobbing curling her fingers in his hair. “You can’t leave me Azriel, you can’t leave us!” she sobbed burning her face in his hair.

For a moment the water and the wind stop. No noise was made. Absolute and total silence.

She could get him back. She would get him back.

She closed her eyes and started to pray to the mother, to the maiden, and the crone, she included the cauldron in hopes he would bargain for her.

If she could get Azriel back from beyond the veil, crossing the line between life and death. She would be given one chance and no more.

She started chanting in her head, her eyes close, and the madness Koschei forged in her mind gone. She was mad with grief, he had accomplished what he wanted, and his poison in her mind had no more use in her.

The water started glowing and forming a type of motion as if someone was mixing something in a cauldron.

She could hear Cassian and Nesta screaming her name but she ignored them and continued the spell in her head, feeling the water moving around them, creating the door for her.

“ELAIN!” Nesta screamed, her voice so much closer now.

Elain opened her eyes and turned to look at them to show her sister and her mate what was happening, a warning, she knew the view had to be gruesome. Elain was distraught, eyes white and clouded with her powers, glowing as the water circled her while holding Azriels body. Before Nesta could jump into the water Cassian stopped her, holding her close to him and keeping a good grip on her armor.

“Elain! What the actual fuck are you doing!” Nesta screamed eyes full of tears and desperation in her voice, behind them she could see some Valkyries, girls Azriel had personally trained. Emerie and Gwyn, the Illyrian woman holding her mate close to her, tears in both of their eyes and Gwyn sobbing leaning into her.

“ I’m bringing him back” She whispered with a broken voice knowing her voice would reach them either way.

“You will die Elain!” Cassian yelled at her holding Nesta as she was almost on the floor crying out of anger and desperation at this point.

“I’m getting him back,” she said as she gently lay Azriel down in the water and kissed his cheek, she turned to them and smiled with tears running down her eyes, still clouded with power. “Take care of him,” she whispered and closed her eyes walking to the center of the lake where a circle of water opened, a door to the other side of the veil, to where she would find him. A white owl flew from the forest and landed on Elains shoulder, he looked at her and flew right into the door in the water urging her to follow, she took the first step into the door and as she advance, she felt the water covering the entrance.

[comfortfiction]

TW:// abusive parents, abuse, sexual assault 

So...a random account on Twitter start fighting Elriels today talking about how most of us hate Mor and how Elain is an abusive piece of shit. When they tried to explain why they agree Elain should’ve done more, but that there’s more nuance to it than that, they started mocking the Elriel fans own abused background. I’m not sure what their Tumblr is but they seem to mostly be on here from what they were posting, just be careful when engaging with this person cause they seem to be very triggering. This is a fictional series guys, no one should be belittling someones abuse over fictional fae. Stay safe out there and enjoy the books as they were meant to be enjoyed.