#velaris fic

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames IIX || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: ANGST, mention of death, language and my english :) A/n: And she is not death! I'm talking both about me and the reader, lmao. I'm sorry for the waiting, god knows how this month had been full for me, but don't worry, even if it will take me months to finish this fic I will! I have everything planned out and I won't leave you unsatisfied🫶🏻 Let me know if you liked this chapter, what you think of the fic so far and if you want to be added at the taglist ;) Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3- Chapter 4- Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

You were nothing and you were everything. You were drowing and you were flying. Everything felt infinite and yet so small. Darkness filled you, but a bright light seduced you to follow it.

Stay.

A voice as familiar as your soul filled the infinite, little space around your entire existence.

Come back to me.

Home. The voice was home and you had been wandering what felt like forever looking for it.

Stay a little longer. Fight to live, please.

Home was calling for you. It was guiding you away from that bright, warm light.

Please, Little Flame. Don't leave me.

Your existence smiled, and then you launched yourself toward it. You wanted to go home. There were so many things you still had to do that you remember no one of them. You could see it now, the golden string leading you home. You grabbed onto it and hold it tight. Gold erupted around you, warm hugged you, and then your entire existence burned.

***

Your niece was the most beatiful creature you had ever seen. Currently sleeping in your arms you got lost observing how the beauty of both Rhysand and Feyre had crafted that tiny, little, breathtaking child.

You had asked Rhys how to hold him without hurting his wings at least a dozen of times. They were so fragile and thin that you were afraid they could get broken even with a wrong look.

"You had wasted money on that crib, Rhys." Mor softly said, not wanting to wake up Nyx. "He'll always sleep in someone's arms."

You wanted to speak in, to joke too, but your sore throat didn't allow you. It turned out that while Eris had tried to hold back from killing you, his fire had burned part of your vocal cords, and Madja had forbidden you from speaking for at least a week.

"Poor boy," Madja had said. "he must have suffered an atrocious pain to fight the Crown and not kill you."

"He is going to be a heartbreaker with those eyes." You joked in your head, knowing that only Rhys could hear you.

The male laughed while he poured a glass of wine to Mor. "Just like his father."

You rolled your eyes playfully as Cassian entered in the living room with a serious look on his face. He approached Rhys while giving you and Mor a quick smile. "I'm going to visit Eris."

Your eyes snapped on him, your whole body going rigid. Eris. Only the name sent shivers all over your body. You hadn't seen him since you blacked out in his arms, after you stupidly, recklessy, kissed him.

The heat that rose on your face was enough to make you look away, toward Nyx in your arms, hoping that your hair hid your blush.

You had tried not to think about him in those last days. Not to think about how he had kissed you back. How soft his lips were. How he tasted of honey, making you wonder if he tasted like that down-"You should go too, Y/n."

Rhys' voice snapped you out from your unholy, undecent, inappropriate thoughts. You watched him visibly confused, knowing there was no point in hiding that you were absolutely not listening.

"Eris had arrived at Hewn City this morning under my request." He informed you while his violet eyes seemed to look like through your soul. "I think your presence might be...welcomed. You saved his life after all."

You really hoped not to have flinched at his words, knowing that Mor was right beside him, looking at you curiously. Gods, what did she think of you? Saving the life of the male she hated. What would she think if she find out what you really think of him?

"If you think so." Your voice was barely a whisper, knowing that their fae's ears would catch it up.

The truth was that you had been dying to see him again. When you had woken up in Azriel's arms you had barely had the time to breath again that Feyre had started her labour. There had been no time to ask about what had happened, and when the baby was born Azriel informed you that Eris had gone back to his court, not remembering much about what had happened.

"I'll take him." Mor said standing up from the couch and gently taking Nyx from your arms and giving you a warm smile. "Be careful."

You gave her a nod before taking Cassian's arm and let him winnow you inside the Hewn City, right outside a poolished, black door. You guessed was Eris' suite, and the confirmation came when an angry Keir rushed out of it.

Mor's father stopped on his feet as soon as he saw you two, and gave you in particular a sneer. "If you take away some of her clothes he might be tell you something."

You had barely widened your eyes when he stormed away, probably sensing the death glare that Cassian was giving him now. You wondered if now that he was a fresh, mated male he felt more eager to tear apart other males, but you guessed that Keir didn't want to know the answer.

"Let's get this over." Cassian's breathed as he opened the door and entered before you, shielding you with his wings as he always did.

You thought you were past the point where they would still think that Eris was a danger to you, but after what happened with Briallyn you couldn't blame them. Mor had told you that Azriel had found you nearly dead in Eris' arms and, her words not yours, Gods knew what he would have done to you if Azriel hadn't arrived.

Jokes on you, you really hoped that Azriel hadn't seen how you had tried to save yourself. Not that the shadowsinger would ever let anything slip from his mouth, but still it would be...what? Mortifying? Yes, mortifying that you didn't feel ashamed at all.

Eris was reading a book by the roaring fire, an ankle crossed over a knee, as if his presence there were nothing unusual. As if he hadn’t been kidnapped, enchanted, and manipulated by a vengeful queen and a death-lord. As if you hadn't shagged him until blacking out.

Cassian shut the door behind you, and Eris lifted his amber eyes, meeting yours. Did he remeber? How much? Did he want to kill you for what you did? Would he start laughing and mocking you?

His gaze lowered to your neck where you knew you had a nice, red necklace made of burned flesh and purple bruises where his hand had choked you. You saw his jaw clenching and his posture stiffining as he looked back at Cassian. "I can't stay long."

His whole body and tone screamed that he didn't want to be there, and by the way he had stiffened as soon as he saw you, you were perfectly sure to be the reason why.

"Good." Cassian said dropping into the seat opposite him, trying to make room for you on the loveseat without succeding.

You gave him a smile, shaking your head to say that it didn't matter as you sat on its armrest. You saw Eris studying your interaction carefully as he closed the book in his hands. His eyes fixated on you, his amber eyes scorcing your soul with the intensity of his gaze, then they fell on your lips.

You ashamely shivered as his eyes seemed to relive the kiss you had shared. Mother...he remeber, you thought feeling a hint of heat appearing on your cheeks. Then, his hand tightened around his book as his eyes met your again. "You cannot speak."

It was a statement. Not a question. He was not thinking about your kiss, he was noticing how you still hadn't opened your mouth to speak. You were about to do so when Cassian spoke before you.

"You gave her quite the necklace, you prick." Cassian sneered, suddenly in a mood. Your gaze snapped on him, burning him with your eyes as he kept looking at the prince. "Her lungs and vocal cords were all burned."

You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for the pain that was going to come. "I can speak, you overprotective asshole." Your eyes immediately stung with tears as you felt sharp rocks rubbing the inside of your throat. You hated how your voice sounded rough, low and weak. "I was just advised not to."

You could have sworn Eris flinched as soon as he heard you speak. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, flinched at the sound of your voice. You weren't sure if you should get offended or feel touched.

"Don't worry, nothing permanent." You gave him a smile as you whispered, the only way to not ending up crying for the pain. "I'm fine."

Something shifted in his face. The worry, the hesitation were gone. If it hadn't been for his red hair you would have mistaken him for someone of the Winter Court. His face was a mask of pure coldness, his eyes, where flames usually danced, were now unmoving.

"I suppose you want to know what I told Briallyn." Eris said Cassian, as if the conversion you had never happened.

“Rhys already looked into your mind. Turns out, you didn’t know much.” Cassian gave the male a slashing grin.

You froze on your seat. Did Rhys saw the kiss? Was this the reason why he had watched you carefully those days? Why he wanted you to go and see Eris?

Eris rolled his eyes, not touched at all by the violetion of privacy. "So why am I here?"

Something was off with him, and it was not only his behaviour toward you. He seemed to not care about that conversation at all, he seemed like he wanted to do anything rather than talking about that.

"We wanted to know what you told Beron. Since you're sitting here, in one piece, I'm assuming he doesn't know about our involvement in your rescue." Cassian said, and your head snapped toward the Illyrian male.

That was not the reason why you were there. You had just wanted to know if Eris was alright. You were smart enough to trust that he obviously wouldn't have told Beron anything important, but for Cassian to imply just that was insulting.

"Oh, he knows that you...assisted me." the mocking in his tone, the hint of a smirk on his lips, were a relief compared to the emptiness you had seen in his eyes while Briallyn controlled him. "Always mix truth and lies, General. Didn't those warrior-brute teach you about how to withstand an enemy's torture?"

His words hadn't time to register in your head as Cassian spoke. "Beron tortured you?"

You watched Cassian confused. Why was he implying that? You knew that Beron was a monster, but Eris was his son. He would have probably tortured whoever he thought responsible for his kidnapping.

"Who cares what my father does to me?" Your eyes snapped to Eris as he stood up, tucking his book under an arm. No. You were undertanding wrong. "He believed my story about the shadowsinger's spies informing him that a valuable asset had been kidnapped by Briallyn, and that you lot were disgusted to arrive and find it was me, rather than someone from the Summer or Winter Courts or whoever stoops to associate with you."

The more he talked the more you felt sick. Beron had tortured him. Beron had tortured him. Beron had tortured him.

Beron.

Had.

Tortured.

Eris.

While you were uncoscious. While you were celebrating Nyx's born. While you were resting and healing and laughing, Eris was being tortured by his own father.

Tortured.

Did you even understand the meaning of that word? Could you even imagine what Beron actually did? To Eris. To your Eris.

Cassian was talking, Eris was answering, but you hear none of that. Blood was pounding in your ears. Fire was running in your veins. Red was filling your vision.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to burn. You wanted to leash out your fire and let it find Beron. Let it burn him and the entire castle. Anger. Anger was all you knew. Anger was all you had ever known.

You saw Eris wincing as he moved. Were he still hurt? Did he not get to a healer?

Beron had tortured him. How dared him touching what was yours? How dared him hurting what gave you happiness?

You will kill him. You will find Beron and kill him. You will burn his flesh piece after piece. You would let Eris' hounds eat him alive. Then you will heal him completely and start again. And again. And again. You will keep doing it until you crashed his brain. Until he wouldn't know what to beg for.

Fire. You would use the very thing Beron thought he controlled. You would shape it as his biggest nightmare and use it against him.

"Y/n." Were those voices? "Stop." Were those hands on your shoulders?

You were an arrow aimed straight, and the target was inside the Forest House in the Autumn Court. You would find him and stop him existence.

Look at me.

The words vibrated in your soul as amber filled your vision. Those were eyes you were staring into. Amber eyes. Beautiful, enchanting, living amber eyes.

Stay with me. Focus on me.

Eris' voice filled you whole, and then you realized that it was Eris standing in front of you. His hands had been the ones holding you. His eyes had been the ones you had been staring to.

He was speaking to you, but not really. His lips weren't moving, his breathing didn't shift.

Breath for me, Little Flame.

Little Flame. You recognized that name. It was Eris' name. It was your name. You blinked once. Twice. You took a better look at his face and knew that you would kill everyone who hurt him.

Smoke rose from his tailored shirt, and you needed another blink to notice the flames circling the both of you, making the world outside disappear. Making you two disappear from the world.

Gods. It was your flames that were slightly burning his shirt, and with a panicked wave you pushed the fire walls two feet more away from you. Since when you had that control? Since you don't want to hurt him.

"Your shirt." you whispered as the pain in your throat brought you completed back to the real world. "I burned it."

"Your neck." he replied so softly that you barely heard him. "I burned it."

His hands winced on your shoulders, and you felt his need to both push away and hold you tighter at the same time. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and as he leaned closer you let your foreheads meet in the middle.

Your hands were shivering, begging you to seek revenge. You gripped his shirt's collar, inhaling the scent of him. Honey, burned wood, cinnamon, cedar. It felt like the home you had always dreamed about.

"I'm going to kill him." You didn't recognize your own voice when you spoke. It was the voice of death. You watched as Eris opened his eyes and met yours. "I'm going to make him suffer and then kill him."

Something shifted in his eyes. Something you couldn't decipher. Something cold and yet warm. Something dangerous but soft. He was having an internal battle, his hands were slowly letting you go and you didn't want it.

"Let me heal you." You whispered, hoping to smooth the anger inside you.

"Make the fire disappear." it was his only response as he took a step back, leaving you confused and lost. "Now."

You had to blink twice because you almost didn't recognize the male in front of you. His voice had turned cold, he had straightened his posture and his eyes were nothing but demanding.

You gulped as you started to call the fire back into you. Suddenly you realized you were still standing in the suit inside the Hewn City. A confused, worried Cassian was looking at the two of you from a spot beside the window.

When did you move from the couch?

But you didn't look at the Illyrian male. You didn't look at the burned forniture that needed to be replaced, or at the smoke that rose from it. Your eyes stayed on Eris, pinning him with your stare.

"Let me heal you." You whispered again, testing the air between your bodies.

He clenched his jaw, his hands fixed in two fits at his side, as if he was preparing phisically for what come next. "Take your pity and leave."

***

He saw your eyes widening. He saw your breathing catching and your eyebrows furrowing, as if you tried to understand what he had said. You were taken back, you tried to mutter words but with your burned neck nothing came out.

Good. Lets be quick.

He had to strike before it was too late, and he did. He had come too close to you. He had come too close to killing you. And he needed to put distance between the two of you again. He didn't need you to hate his father, he needed you to hate him. He needed you to hate him as much as he hated himself for what he did to you.

"It's not pity." you sounded almost insulted by his implication. "You're hurt, I can heal you."

But why would he deserve to be healed by you when you couldn't heal yourself from what he did? He deserved nothing. Nothing. Not to be healed. Not to be cared for. Not you.

"Don't bother to do something I wouldn't." he saw the physical punch his words gave you. He saw the lies he said placing roots inside you.

Gods, he could be so cruel when he wanted. He knew exactly how to hurt people without touching them, and he was doing it to the last person who deserved it.

He had been so close to killing you. He had seen the life leaving your eyes, and he couldn't have done nothing to stop it. To stop him. The Gods had played a sick joke on him. The very right moment he had got close to you, when he had started to believe that he might become someone worthy of you, they had reminded him the danger he was to you. They had reminded him that you would never be safe beside him. Too many enemies. Too much of his father's blood run into his veins. And he would have cut them open if it meant he could spill all of it away and replace it with something else.

The worst, most terrifying thing was not how he felt about you, he was too gone to be ever saved from it, but it was that you cared for him. In his way to get to know you, you had started to care for him, and where did it bring you? Right into death's hands. His hands.

You had kissed him to save him. You had kissed the very lips that were now spilling hurtful words to you. You had kissed him and let him take all your air to save him.

He couldn't let you be so reckless. Not for him. Not when he just found out that the universe must have born from one of your kisses, because nothing could ever feel as godly as your lips on his.

"I thought..." you gasped as you tried to speak throught the pain he could clearly see. "I thought we were..."

Dangerous were the words that could follow. But he needed to hear them. He needed to hear them in order to destroy them.

"What?" It was easy using his mockying voice. It was easy protecting you from him. "What did you think we were?"

He saw in your eyes you were searching for the right word. He dreaded you would find it. Not now. You couldn't know now. Because if you did, he wasn't sure he would control himself and go away.

"Friends..." your voice was broken, but not from the pain of your throat. "I thought we were friends."

Friends.

After five hundreds years of living on that earth Eris finally understood the meaning of the word 'devastated'. He felt devastated. His soul was being ripped apart and he was the one doing it.

You had considered him a friend.

Nothing could ever compare to it. Not mates. Not partners. Not family.

Friends.

Something you choose to be. Something you work hard to be. Something that in his world had never existed. Had someone ever considered him a friend? Had he ever considered someone a friend?

He would endure the horrors on his life another thousands times if it meant being worthy of being your friend. Worthy of being called such. Worthy of your trust, and not because a bond told you so but because you had decided it on your own.

And you did. You had actually choosen to give him your trust, to call him your friend. And now he was breaking it. Stripping himself from the honor of that word.

He laughed. At you. At himself. At the Mother for having given him something so perfect while he would never be able to have it. He laughed because he felt he would cry otherwise. He laughed because he wanted nothing more than kneel in front of you and beg for forgiveness.

"I don't need your pathetic excuse of a friendship. I need your power." Never in his life had words left such a bitter taste in his mouth. "Do something useful and keep training it."

He didn't need the bond to know how much his words hurt you, because you were letting him see everything on your beautiful face. You were letting him see how he was breaking the trust you had in him piece after piece.

You gulped, and he traced every movements with his eyes, wondering if this would be the last time he saw you for a very long time.

He saw in you eyes that you wanted to say something, but he guessed you decided that he was not worth the pain in your throat, and he surely was not.

He watched as you silently walked out of the suit, unaware that you were taking away a piece of his heart with you. A piece he had willingly, stupidly gave you.

He watched as the door closed behind you, as the silence that followed filled his ears. As the damage he had done took form in the emptiness he felt inside him.

“You know, Eris,” Cassian said, a hand wrapping around the doorknob ready to follow you. “I think you might be a decent male, deep down, trapped in a terrible situation.”

Eris scoffed, hating the pity look that the General was giving him. Cassian out of everyone should hate him. Both for what he presumely did to Mor and for what he just saw.

"You should be happy your little 'sister' won't speak with a monster like me ever again." If with you every word had been strecthed, with Cassian was easy. A dance they had been doing for centuries. "A pity you are mated to her twin. I heard Illyrians have the habits of fucking their sisters."

Cassian studied the burned furniture around them, the only proof of the rage you had felt. The only proof that something glimmering gold tied Eris to you.

“I grew up surrounded by monsters. I’ve spent my existence fighting them. And I see you, Eris. You’re not one of them. Not even close. I think you might even be a good male.” Cassian opened the door, turning from Eris’s curled lip. “You’re just too much of a coward to act like one.”

FInally the Illyrian walked away, giving Eris the pleasure of the solitude. Alone he couldn't hurt anyone but himself. Alone no one could hurt him but himself.

He winnowed right back in his bedroom back at the secret cottage he owned deep in the forest of the Autumn Court, close to the border of Winter. Everything was still, unmoving. He had not been able to go there for over two months.

Every window was rightfully closed, every fire out, and in the darkness of the house he could not bring himself to regret what he had done. Memories of your lifeless body hunted his mind, because you had died.

He had never noticed how a second was long, and he had not been prepared when for twenty-three long seconds your heart had stopped beating. For twenty-three long seconds his life had lost any meaning. For twenty-three long seconds he had wished to be dead.

Eris had grabbed into the bond, he had grabbed it with teeth and claws, and had begged you to stay while Azriel had held him down with his shadows and Cassian tried to reanimate you. He had yelled at you to come back. He had show you the image of the cottage, of the Autumn's forest around it, of his hounds peacefully sleeping in the grass. He had promised you to show you all of it if you came back.

You could not breath, he had realized while Cassian tried to make your heart beat again. You could not breath for the damaged he had caused you. So Eris had grabbed a hold on your power too, he had found the last strike of flames left in you and healed you from the inside. It had not been much, but it had been enough to allow the air to enter in you again.

You had died for twenty-three seconds.

Eris could live without a mate. He had done it for five hundreds years. He had never wanted one. Never needed one. But it had been in the brightness of the day, as the sunlight hit the falling leaves of the trees, as the sounds of his hounds running through the forest filled his ears, that he realized he could not live without you.

A/N: I do have a question: The Eris in your head has long or short hair? I was talking about it with a new dear friend of mine and I am curious about your opinions!

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[faithisyours]

can you write something about az eating out reader while she reads!

Absolutely obsessed with this request. Here you are, Love. Hope it’s everything you hoped for and more 🫶

Just Keep Reading

Azriel x Fem!reader

CW: smut, oral F receiving, fingering, I think that's it

Word count: 1.5k

It’s your day off, and on your days off you tend to curl up with a good book and read for the entire day. So that is what you are doing, curled up in your reading chair in the corner of your living room reading a smutty little romance novel Nesta had recommended. And it’s safe to say it was a good one, because you can't seem to put it down.

You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been reading until Azriel comes home, pulling you out of your reading trance. And just as you’re getting to the smutty part, too. As he walks into the living room, you look up from your book and give him a warm smile. He returns it, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading into your shared bedroom to change into something more comfortable than what he’s currently wearing.

You continue reading, which now has just turned to pure smut. You look towards the bedroom to make sure Azriel doesn’t see your giddiness, then you dive into reading. Subconsciously, your thighs start to rub together, and your scent gets sweeter, thicker.

All the way from in the bedroom, Azriel can smell you, or rather, the change in how you smell. He pokes his head out, looking to see what has gotten his mate smelling so sweetly. Silently he makes his way back to the living room to find you curled up even tighter than you were before, nose buried in your book, and the smell of you getting headier by the second.

When you notice he's standing right in front of you, you startle, looking like a deer caught in the faelights. You watch as a small grin takes over his mouth. “What are you reading?” he inquires, an eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly.

“Is this one of Nesta's books?” You don’t respond, but he already knows the answer. He takes a step closer to you. “How long have you been in this chair? Your legs must be stiff by now, no?” The change in subject is suspicious, but you're hoping this means he’s going to drop the fact that he just caught you reading smut in the middle of the afternoon. Without waiting for an answer, he kneels down in front of you and grabs one of your legs, pulling it towards him. You let out a small squeak at the sudden change in position. Azriel, as always, was right in guessing you’d be stiff. “Keep reading,” he says when he notices you've stopped.

He starts massaging your leg, staring at the ball of your foot and making his way up to your calf muscle, working his thumb in soothing circles. After a couple minutes he pulls your other leg out towards him, massaging that one too. It would be enjoyable if you weren’t so pent up already from your book.

As you continue reading, the chapters just keep getting smuttier. No wonder Nesta highly recommended this one. You can feel slick gathering at your core, can smell your own arousal getting thicker in the air around you. Azriel’s grip on you gets tighter, so you risk a glance over the top of your book to look at his face. His jaw is clenched, but that’s the only fault in his mask. He continues massaging your legs, paying seemingly no mind to you otherwise.

Even though Azriel looks fine, internally he is not. Your scent is driving him mad, and the fact that it isn’t him causing you to smell like that is getting him wound up faster than usual. A soft gasp escapes you, and that’s when he snaps. His hands glide up your thighs and towards the top of your lounge pants, pulling down on the waist.

“Azriel, what-”

He cuts you off. “Shh, just keep reading.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. Or at least try to do as he says. Your brain short circuits a little when he pulls down your pants, panties along with them, the motion jerking you bottom half closer to the edge of your chair, closer to his mouth. You're naked from the waist down, and all you can focus on is Azriel’s gaze burning holes into your flesh.

“Az, seriously what-” you try to protest again, but he cuts you off a second time.

“Keep. Reading,” he growels, and then his mouth is on you, biting and licking and sucking his way up your thighs towards your soaked core.

You’re trying to read, and it's kind of working, until Azriel parts you with one hand and gives you a long, thorough lick up your core and hums.

“Lucky me,” he says between licks, “To have a mate wet and ready for me when I get home.” you squirm at his words, at the attention he's giving your clit. The hand that parted you goes to your hip, ceasing your squirming, the other curls around your thigh, digging fingers into flesh. “Keep reading or I stop,” he warns, when he sees you've stopped again. You take a deep breath and continue.

You manage to read a couple more pages before doing anything other than moaning seems impossible. Both of your legs are now swung over Azriel’s shoulders, and the hand not clutching your book in a death grip is white-knuckling the arm of the chair. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue teases at your entrance. You don’t want him to stop, but right now all you can do is lean your head back and pant.

But then he does stop, and it’s earth-shattering in a bad way. You look down to meet his eyes, which are full of determination and hunger. “Read,” he demands. You blink a couple times in hopes it will clear your mind, and start reading again. It takes you a second to find where you were, but you eventually find it and begin. But Azriel doesn’t. “Aloud.” His voice is low, so low you barely hear him. “Read aloud,” he states again. It takes you a second to completely understand what he is saying, what he’s asking you to do. But you know not to question Azriel when he’s like this, so you shove your pride down and start reading.

“His hand drifted over my thighs,” you start, glancing over your book to Azriel, making sure he heard you. “And his touch was like liquid fire.” Azriel’s head finally drops down to between your thighs, pressing kiss after kiss to your thighs and pussy, teasing, taunting his touch.

“His fingers parted me,” you continue, “feeling how wet I was, how warm and ready I was to take him.” Azriel groans at your words, sending shockwaves through your body. ““So…so sweet,”” you stutter, trying to regain some of your composure and failing miserably as Azriel starts using his tongue again. ““So soft,” he cooed against my clit. I…”” you gasp as he works a finger into you, curling to find that perfect spot.

“You what?” he prompts, urging you to continue. If only it was that easy.

“I squirmed in his grasp, but…his other hand,” your panting, whimpering between every phrase, “His other hand circled my waist, pinning me back against his chest.”

Your divine noises are music to Azriel’s ears. And hearing you recite the filthy things you read is even more of a turn on. He should do this more often, he thinks, but for now, he adds a second finger into you on a hard thrust, which has you moaning his name along with a slew of other expletives.

“Oh my gods, Azriel, please,” The fingers of your free hand reach for Az’s head, threading through his thick dark hair. “Plese, don’t stop.” He wants to make you keep reading, wants to hear those filthy words come out of your mouth, but your begging has him doing exactly as you say. He doesn’t stop. In fact, he speeds up, thrusting his fingers into your dripping heat, licking and sucking and nipping at your clit.

And then you’re coming, clenching onto his fingers so he can barely move them, thighs bracing his head as you ride through your waves of pleasure. And he works you through it, continuing the attention on your clit, rubbing his hand over your thigh to sooth you. Eventually you return to your body, becoming aware that your book is now on the floor, you’ve just come in the middle of your living room, and that Azriel still has that hunger in his eye.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, but it isn’t really a question. You shed yourself of your top layers, getting completely naked, and launch yourself at Azriel, who catches you and carries you towards the bedroom, much more fun to be had in there. Of course you’re ready for round two.

—

Also, just wanted to mention that I started a ko-fi for tips. No pressure of course. Just figured I’d start one since I’m a student with not much of an income at the moment. Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)

[elaacreditava]

Have I found you, flightless bird?

Azriel Shadowsinger x reader

Summary: Rhysand brings back home a mysterious girl with a distaste for Illyrians. Azriel feels attracted to her and compelled to change her view on things.

Warning: angst, blood, gore, pinning and fluff

Word count: 4.661k

Note: This is my first writing ever. Never thought about writing fics, only reading them (obsessed) but I couldn't take this fic out of my mind so I decided to write and share it.

After Amarantha's death, Rhysand winnowed back to Velaris with an unknown female. As soon as he saw his family, Rhys fell to his knees and was hugged by Mor while cried and said repeatedly "she's my mate". His cousin, Amren, Cassian and Azriel stared incredulously at the mysterious woman in the corner of the room.

"Who are you?", the Illyrian commander asked after the shock of the situation has passed.

"I'm Y/n and no, he's not talking about me, I'm not his mate", Y/n answered feeling the need to get rid of any misunderstanding. No one asked any more questions while all of them sat down after Rhysand had calmed himself enough to start explaining everything that had happened since the beginning.

When Rhys was done hours later, Azriel noticed how little he knew about Y/n, as if Rhys was leaving her out of it as much as possible intentionally, only saying that she was Amarantha's slave just like him.

Seeing Y/n rounded ears, no scales, horns, wings, slitted eyes or anything that made her high fae or lesser, Azriel deemed she was human, the most beautiful female he has seen in his life with her smooth long hair, slender body and sharp face, no older than 25. But what got Azriel most about her were her eyes, more than the exquisite color they had, the look she gave at them, the kind of look of someone that had been through a lot and would never let it happen again was always present. He needed to know more about her, so he decided to pry for answers.

"Why did you bring the human back with you? Why not send her back to the mortal lands?" Az asked Rhysand but as soon as he finished his sentence, Y/n eyes turned in his direction and the shadowsinger knew he had made a mistake. "The 'human' is no human at all and she hates when someone talks about her as if she's not present." Y/n said in a disgusted tone and with such fury that Azriel felt like he's been electrocuted, but being the spymaster he is, he didn't let show how much the storm in her eyes affected him.

"Y/n isn't human, she's... something else, but that's not my story to tell. She will tell whenever she feels ready to share." replied Rhys trying to keep the conversation under control. Azriel and Y/n kept staring at each other for a while and he had a feeling she didn't like him very much. When the silence was uncomfortable enough for everybody else in the room, Azriel was the first to speak "Apologies, I didn't mean to, I see you and know you can speak for yourself." That caught Y/n off guard. Was it possible for an Illyrian to be different from all the ones she has meet before? Apologizing and looking at her as if had worth stirred something in her chest, something she hadn't felt before, like a tug in her heart. But she decided to not let it show and only nodded in return.

After introducing Y/n to his family, Rhysand decided the conversation would be over for now. "Y/n and I must rest" Rhys said to everyone and turning to her he finished with "Nuala and Cerridwen will help you getting settled." With that, the High Lord left and everybody else went to their own affairs while the half-wraiths took Y/n to the room she would be staying.

A warm bath was waiting for her and since she was feeling the need of washing away everything that happened she went in. Scrubbing the skin raw has become a tradition, the necessity of getting rid of Amarantha's touch and smell she could feel on herself after she was used, like Rhys was. Even now, with Amarantha dead, Y/n could smell her as if it was impregnated on her skin, as if she would never be free of it. So she scrubbed and cried and scrubbed some more like she did for years and years.

Having left the bath and changed into a short sleeved knee length dress, Y/n felt as clean as she could get. She was thinking about taking a walk around to explore the house when someone knocked on the door. Y/n went and opened it coming face to face with Azriel. Looking at him from this close, she could see the green in his hazel eyes, the light freckles on his cheeks, how his sharp jaw could cut anything. He was breathtaking. And breathless she was... until she realized they were staring at each other, so she cleaned her throat and said "Can I help you with anything?"

Azriel noticed her puffy eyes from crying during her scrub session and the raw skin of her arms and neck, so red that looked very sensitive to touch. The dark blue dress she was wearing complimented her curves and skin tone. He could only think about how was it possible to someone to look so mesmerizing even with puffy eyes, raw skin and a simple dress.

After a moment he averted his eyes "I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court." he extended his hand, palm up, his shadows went to his fingertips, eager for her to make contact so they would jump to her warm fingers. Y/n put her hand on his and he kissed it and gave her a little bow while he saw his shadows circling her wrist and caressing her forearm "They seen to like you" his lips twitched trying to hold a smile before he continued "I was wondering if you need anything. Perhaps a tour around the place?" he said looking at her eyes now with a little smile, still holding her hand, and Y/n was wondering how soft his lips would feel against hers.

No! She couldn't get involved with him! After everything she's been through, she didn't need an Illyrian brute controlling her choices, taking away her freedom like she knew was part of their culture. As soon as she thought about it, she snatched her hand back and said "No thanks, I don't need to go anywhere with your kind" dismissing him. She was ready to close the bedroom door but he stopped her, holding the door ajar. She could see hurt and fury in his eyes, his shadows back around him were bristled when he asked "What do you mean with 'my kind'?" at that moment she thought he probably didn't always need to torture to get the answers he wanted, the look he was giving her and the tone he voiced his question was almost enough to make her apologize and cower in a corner. But she didn't suffer all she did all those years to run and hide when confronted any male.

"I don't need an Illyrian male telling me what to do and where to go, soon enough you'll start telling me what to wear and how to behave" she replied coldly.

"What?! I was just trying to be nice since you just got here and don't know your surroundings. Never wanted to control you in any way, just thought you would feel more at ease knowing how to come and go." He took a step closer, she could smell night-chilled mist and cedar coming from him "Don't compare me to other Illyrians you have met before. You don't know me", his low voice giving her goosebumps and making her heart race.

Azriel felt an anguish in the current situation he hasn't felt before. Being compared to everything he had fought against his whole life.

"Whenever you feel like leaving your prejudice behind, I'll be around." with that he left leaving Y/n stunned by the door. She was so shocked by his words that she didn't remember closing the bedroom door, walking to her bed and laying down. She felt a mix of rage and shame, how he talked to her, after she patronized him, how her prejudice made her think they're all the same when all he showed her was kindness. She took a deep breath and got up ready to find him and apologize but as soon as she got to the door and opened, Rhys was there. "Hey! I just saw Az leaving, looking mad, what happened?" he asked, so Y/n told him everything about their encounter.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Y/n. The brooding face, shadows and bat wings might give you the wrong impression but once you get to know him, you'll see that he's nothing like you ever knew. Let the past in the past and try to be open minded" the High lord said, making her feel even worse about the situation. So she got up fast and said "I need to go, Rhys. Do you know where I can find him? I really need to apologize."

"He's probably at the library, it's where we usually find him when he's pissed. It's on the lower floor, fourth door to your right." he instructed her knowing she had no idea where was anything in the house. "Thanks Rhys, wish me luck!" she said passing Rhysand and giving him a peck on his cheek.

"No problem! And you won't need luck, Az is a nice male and you are you. He will understand and both of you will be fine." he said with a smirk looking at her as if he knew something Y/n didn't. She went to the lower floor and the fourth door to her right was a large one, very library like so she got in and started looking for him. The place was so big, with endless shelves full of books. She will definitively spend some time here in the future. For now she had to find him, but had no idea where to start.

Something on the ground was trying to get her atention and when she stepped closer she noticed it was one of his shadows. When she bent down to touch it the shadow moved to an aisle luring her to follow it and so she did. After some twists and turns she found him sitting on a sofa with a pile of books and reports laying on the table by his side. He looked very comfortable, with his legs spread, one hand holding a report while the other arm was resting on the back of the sofa holding his head in place. His wings were behind the sofa resting, just as spread as his legs. And damn, if the rumors about wingspan were true, the male in from of her was very blessed. Fuck, she comes to apologize and can't stop thinking about those things, not nice!

As soon as she came into view, he stiffened and fixed his posture, looking tense and ready to fight. "I've come in peace!" She stated quickly while holding her hands up in a surrender position for him to see. "I was so unfair comparing you to others, I am very sorry about it. I've had some bad experiences in life but that doesn't excuse how I treated you." Az looked her over, her guilty ridden face told him she was being sincere.

"It's okay, I forgive you" he replied and she instantly looked so relieved and for a couple of seconds he just kept gazing at her, something in her was so entrancing, he couldn't take his eyes off of her until -"wait, how did you find me here? This library is like a maze" he said imagining the trouble she went through until finally finding him.

"Uh, as soon as I entered the library one of your shadows found me and guided me to you" she said and his jaw dropped. His shadows always helped him to hide, not to be found. It didn't matter who was looking for him, they never gave his whereabouts to anyone. "You little traitors" he scolded them playfully. Even feeling a bit betrayed by them he felt glad that they did it and the air between Azriel and Y/n could be cleared.

"So, I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Y/n. Would you mind giving me a tour around the place?" she used almost the same words he did hours before by her door so he barked a laugh, got up, took the hand she extended, kissed it, put it around his byceps and told her "It would be my pleasure."

He didn't fail to notice how his shadows would naturally run from him to hers, excited to touch her warm skin and back to him bringing her smell with them.

Months have passed and the dynamic between them both was as if they have known each other for centuries. They would talk for hours about a book they read, go to a cafe to have their favorite pastries, walk down the Rainbow while chatting about the future, training hand to hand combat, since Y/n begged to learn anything because she felt the need since she was never able to fight back in her slave days or before that.

Everything was great between them, except for the fact that Y/n still didn't disclose anything to him about her past. He didn't know what she was, where she came from, how old was she, and that made Azriel confused. She was comfortable enough to have him around, to do almost everything together, even sleep on his shoulder once when they were reading together side by side on the couch and she fell asleep, laying her head on his shoulder, then moving to his chest, and when waking up, not being embarrassed about it, as if it wasn't the first time this was happening and as id it wasn't almost gave him a heart attack.

Her head near his face, he could smell her hair, feel the softness of it on his cheek, he wanted to run his hands through it, feel it between his fingers. Then she moved a little bit to get more comfortable and her nose was almost touching his chest. He could feel her breath on his skin since the V neck he was wearing showed some skin. It tickled him and gave goosebumps.

He couldn't concentrate on his book any longer. All he could think about was how would it feel to have her hair between his fingers while she kissed his chest, his abs, his- never mind! He took a deep breath and tried very hard to take his mind off of it. They would be very flirty with each other all the time but it was just a joke, she would never be interested in him more than friends. She was so kind, brave, smart and pretty. And he was just him.

Today was training day and they were stretching at the center of the ring before starting with hand to hand combat. Y/n was wearing leggings and a long sleeved shirt. Azriel noticed Y/n never wore sleeveless clothing, she would show her arms sometimes but never her back. He tried to dismiss this information but it kept nagging at him.

Azriel was wearing his combat leathers, and Y/n couldn't stop staring at his muscles, how good he was looking. He kept giving her a welcoming smile, an encouraging one since they were about to start fighting and he would handle her ass to her. She has been training for months now but he has been training for centuries, it didn't matter what a great professor he was, she would never win a fight between them, even so with her getting distracted when their skin touch, when he imobilizes her and she can feel his breath on her neck, when he's so close that everything she can do is do her best to keep herself under control and not kiss him then and there.

It was impossible not to fall for him. He was amazing, she could spend the whole day with him and would never tire of his company. Everyone saw him as a serious fae, never smiling and always in the shadows, but with Y/n he was funny, attentive, respectful and smart. Gods, she wanted him so much. But he would never want her, a broken girl, her years as a slave only left a shadow of the person she was. He would answer her flirtation with the same tone but of course it was just a joke to him, he could have anyone, why would he choose her?

"Okay, today we'll test the grappling you've been learning lately. We have tested your kicking lessons and punching ones in the last classes. Today, no kicking, no punching, only imobillizing, got it?" He asked and even knowing what was coming, she got nervous. He was very built, tall and large so she would have trouble dealing with it.

He taught her how to take down bigger opponents but one thing was just theory and training other was to use it to really win the fight. Y/n just took a deep breath and nodded in confirmation.

They started to circle each other, looking for a weak spot to take advantage of. She tried to trip him tackling his legs but he just pushed her back and gave a little laugh. She knew he was playing her, that he could have finished it already but he wanted to see what she had learned. So back at circling she remembered a takedown she read about, trained the movement in front of the mirror many times but never really did it on someone. If she was able to execute it, Azriel wouldn't be expecting it since it was one he never taught her.

Y/n keep a natural stance while moving closer to him. She then gripped his left wrist with her right hand and hooked his left armpit with her left arm. Taking a big step forward, she rotated her body and dropped to her knees between his legs, with her back to him, using the momentum to change Azriel's center of gravity and pull him over her shoulder and onto his back on the mat. He looked so surprised that Y/n kept staring at his face with the biggest smile he has ever seen. He took a second to save that scene in his memory and in the next he dropped her and mounted her waist.

"That was one hell of a takedown, but instead of gloating you should've held me down so I wouldn't get up and take you down" he said looking down and smiling at her.

Y/n was breathless. She didn't know if it was because of the takedown, or of when he caught her off guard after it or because he was sitting on top of her with that smile that melted her every time.

"Hey, are you okay?" He whispered thinking she could be hurt and moved his hand to move her hair away from her face. Lost in his actions, he didn't notice the mischief in her eyes. She hugged his forearm and bumped her hips to the side, making him loose balance and falling on his back again. This time she learned her lesson, before he could close his legs around her hips or get up, Y/n moved fast and mounted him as he did to her minutes ago but now, she held his wrists above his head.

They both were breathing heavy, their noses inches apart, looking at each other's eyes. His eyes moved from hers to her lips and back to her eyes.

"I yield" he breathed against her lips. She threw all control away and kissed him deep and hard. Moving one hand to his hair and the other to the back of his neck she tried to show him through that kiss how much he meant to her, how glad she was to have met him and how she wanted a future with him.

With his arms now free from her grip, Azriel buried with fingers in her hair and his other hand moved to the small of her back. He waited so long for this to happen and to have her kissing him back, gods! He hoped she could feel how in love he was with her, how he never wanted to part from her, have her in his arms all the time would be everything.

Y/n lifted her head a little bit, just enough to look at his face, that's when she felt it. That tug in her heart so strong that made her gasp. The bond snapping into place. She widened her eyes in disbelief. Azriel was her mate.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The shadowsinger asked, noticing the change in her demeanor. He moved his hand from the small of her back to between her shoulder blades and saw when she instantly winced in pain and pushed his arm away, getting up and turning her back to him, ready to leave.

Before she could go, Azriel grabbed her arm, keeping her in place. When she looked at him, her eyes were shining silver with tears. He knew he didn't hurt her back, had mastered enough his fighting skills to be sure of it. The pain must be from a wound badly healed from her time Under the Mountain.

"Please, talk to me" her mate pleaded, "please, I want to help, I want you!" With that, she looked at his hazel eyes and saw all the love he had for her. It was time to trust him with her secrets since her mate always showed himself to be loyal and reliable.

Y/n moved her arm from his grip but didn't walk away, only turned her back to him. When he thought she would ignore him, she started taking her shirt off. Under that she had a spaghetti strapped top and where he touched her back before were scars. The red and twisted tissues were in the same placement of his wings.

"I'm Illyrian, Az. Amarantha severed my wings with her sword after I tried to run away from Under the Mountain years ago" she told, looking at him over her shoulder with tears running down her face. "My father was Rhys' father Illyrian commander. The night Tamlin's family was killed by Rhys dad at Spring Court, my father was there helping them. So Amarantha slaved Rhys and I for our parents part in her ally's death."

Azriel was at loss for words. Y/n had wings once. And they were cut off of her with a sword. The pain she must have felt. It's a wonder she's still alive. He had so many questions but afraid of overstepping he started slow with "that's how you know about Illyrian culture, why you thought I was like them all."

"Yes, I grew up witnessing how females were treated by males in our village. Always being submissive, ready to serve, never fighting back" she told him with rage in her voice. "When I was old enough, my father clipped my wings. Told me it would be easier to marry me to someone this way, as it was a display of submissiveness. He died the same night as Rhys' father, by Tamlin's hands. And when Amarantha came for me, I couldn't fly away and didn't know how to fight to defend myself. So she took me." Her father made her a flightless bird, always caged, never able to feel the wind on her wings ever again.

By now, Y/n was on her knees with her forehead on his chest, the conversation having taken all her strength, while the spymaster kneeled before her, holding her as if he could prevent her from breaking, from falling to pieces.

"After years of serving in Amarantha's bed whenever she felt like it, I tried to run away. It was the best chance I've had in years, I would have made it if I could fly after leaving her court, but with clipped wings I had to walk, that's when the Attor got me" Y/n was sobbing so hard that Azriel was shushing her, caressing her hair and promising he would never anyone hurt her again. She believed him, knew he would burn the world down to keep her safe.

After taking deep breaths to calm herself, she continued, "Amarantha said that clipped wings weren't enough to make me submissive, she would need to try harder. So she grabbed her sword and severed them. I'll never forget the pain I felt that day, the sound of my screams, the blood spilling from my back. After that, she called for Rhysand, told him that his mission was to not let me die of blood loss and left.

"Rhys found a healer and they did the best they could in the conditions presented to them. I survived, but a wound this bad needed better conditions to heal properly, that's why is more sensitive than a normal scar. Madja's already working on it, prescribed some balms and potions to lessen the pain and make it less sensitive but she said it will take a while to be completely painless."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you, all of this! What your father did, the price you paid for his actions, all you suffered before and during Amarantha's reign. I wish you never went through situations were you had to show your strength but going through it all, you were so strong, so brave!" Azriel said with choked voice while holding Y/n face in his hands, touching her forehead with his, drying her tears with his thumbs, caressing her cheek in reassurance. The shadowsinger himself was on the verge of tears, keeping a hold on his emotions while trying to comfort Y/n. "I would do anything to save you from all this suffering, anything" Azriel whispered to her.

Y/n felt so light, having someone to share the burden, someone she trusted, was like having a boulder removed from her chest. And to hear all reassurances he was giving her made her feel so safe and seen. She gripped his face in her hands and kissed him lightly but with so much love that he felt the bond snapping into place right away.

Azriel gasped, opened his eyes and Y/n was staring at him with a smile on her face, eyes rimmed with tears. She gave a tug on the bond and he gasped again, she laughed and said "Can you feel it?"

Her mate just nodded gaping at her. She laughed harder then said "thank the cauldron! I thought I'd have to endure ages until it snapped to you too!"

"You're my mate" he whispered, she nodded. "I've found you... I can't believe it" he was stunned. "When did it- oh, minutes ago when you were looking at me after our kiss!" He realized, dumb struck.

"For a spymaster sometimes you're very clueless, you know?" She said giggling. "I've been giving you clues about how I feel about you, flirting and spending as much time as I could with you. Mates or not, I've been in love with you for a while now."

Azriel was dreaming, he was sure of it. No way this was real, it was too good to be truth. Y/n was his mate and was in love with him. He never thought he was deserving of a mate, much less deserving of her and here they were, mates and in love. The Mother blessed him with the greatest gift.

"Looks like you bested me this" he said smiling, then cupped her jaw to to lift her face and capture her eyes and said "I will protect you with my life. I'd die and kill for you."

Y/n knew he was speaking the truth because she could feel through the bond and also that's how she felt about him. Knowing all he has been through since a child, she would die and kill to keep him safe.

Her lover, her mate, her Azriel.

[solbaby7]

someone requested [ Manhattan + salt rim + neat ] and I accidentally deleted it but i remembered!!

warnings: leashes (yup like for dogs 🤭) minors dni, thank you thank you thank you thank you for this request 🥵

—

Azriel knew it was going to be an issue—you spending so much time with Nesta Archeron.

He’d found it cute at first. His sweet girl making friends with someone as prickly as death incarnate, until he’d started noticing the changes. How kind words shift into a biting wit; adopting a darker kind of humor that leaves his brows raised and tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “Come bunny, it’s time to get out of bed.”

Perhaps it’s in that learned behavior where you find the gall to part your lips and mutter, “No, I’m not going.”

It’s surprising—your defiance. Enough for him to pause in the middle of his morning routine, thigh holsters half buckled with an array of sharpened daggers and switchblades laid out before him. “Say that again?”

“To training,” You elaborate, mindlessly toying with the fraying edges of your nail varnish. Soft sheets swallow you whole, thick pillows and duvets emitting Azriel’s comforting scent all around you. “I’m not going today.”

For only a second he falters before his movements start up again, deft fingers easily buckling strips of leather and filling the slots with weapons. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m feeling like I don’t want to sweat under the burning sun all fucking day.” Your eyes are too busy rolling at the thought to notice the tick of Azriel’s jaw, the strained way he tightens his belt. “Nes and I are going shopping after brunch instead.”

“Oh?” There’s a pause, a tense silence that forces you to lean up on your elbows, neck craning to peer over at the Illyrian. Though, Azriel’s not getting ready anymore and he’s lounging too comfortably for someone who’d been adamant on following the guidelines of his rigorous schedule. The clock tick, tick, ticks away and for some reason he’s not reaching for his top or the crossbody holsters he slides on after. His hair is still dripping wet from his shower, not even bothering to work his styling pomade through. “Says who?”

He just sits there—watching, waiting. Staring at you like one of the prisoners he chains up in his dungeons; prodding at the barriers of their restraint until the spymaster tore it to shreds. You hate how well it works, chipping away at the fortified walls you’d built in your new friendships. How easily Azriel’s able to walk up to those borders and send them crumbling down with nothing more than a look.

It should be embarrassing, the affect he has on you. The way one arched brow has your spine instinctively straightening, throat rolling with a swallow as you struggle to muster up the same confidence that burned through you just moments ago. “I wasn’t aware I needed permission.”

Azriel hums low in his chest, shoulders relaxing and head nodding once, twice, three times before that stoic expression melts into understanding. “I see, that’s probably my fault. Got a touch lenient—allowed room for a little too much…hope.”

“Hope?”

Alarm bells begin ringing the further he settles in the chair, thick thighs spreading wide and veiny forearms eat up the space along the armrest. “Hope,” he agrees. “Give a good pet a little too much freedom—too much hope and all the necessary structure begins to waver.” You’re caught like a fly in a trap, limbs sticking to the carefully spun webs Az’s woven until your struggle only leaves the metaphorical ropes twisting and knotting tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m a good trainer. Won’t let you slack for a second—even if you do bat those pretty lashes up at me.”

Your mouth goes dry when his wrist flicks, two fingers beckoning you closer in silent command. A part of you hesitates; resists the rigorous discipline and rules put in place to keep you safe. Protected. But Nesta said that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself without some overgrown bat looming over your shoulder. Right?

You obey anyway, praying that Azriel doesn’t hold the contemplation against you.

The Mother doesn’t seem to hear your plea, too occupied with more deserving persons to spare a second glance at the predicament you’d weaseled your way into. Each step closer feels like knowing wrong and choosing the sin anyway, solidifying your fate and dealing your destiny with the devil for all time. “Sit.”

A huffy breath of irritation before you ease down to your knees, leaning your weight back against your calves. “I’m not some fucking dog.”

“No, you aren’t,” His hand smells of body wash when a thumb runs over the curve of your cheek, blunt nail tracing against the shape of your mouth. It’s almost sweet, toeing the line of possibly romantic when you hear it—the squeaky strain of fresh leather. The cool bite of the latch registers too late, a metallic click locking it in place. “But lately you’ve been acting like one. My rabid mutt.”

Manicured nails grip at the newest accessory but it doesn’t budge no matter how much you tug at it. Your cheeks flame, a mix of fury and pure embarrassment from the rush of arousal that soils your panties when each breath grows just a bit labored. “You fucking collared me?”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll buy a muzzle to match.” He catches on to the way your thighs clench together, lips snapping shut as your brain fights to decide whether you want to scream back a “fuck you” or “fuck me”.

You land somewhere in the middle, words stern but tone leaking with curiosity. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A hellish grin splits across the handsome lines of his face, like a wolf straining in the seams of sheep’s clothing. “Try me.” He’s lost the concept to time when such fun prey has found itself stuck in his crosshairs. Such a sweet lamb should know better than to wander away from its shepherd—heaven forbid something should happen to you. “Test me, I dare you. I’ll walk you through town like some purebred if you keep acting like you weren’t taught to act with decorum.”

He means it too. You know he does. Even after all these years, you still had yet to hear words Azriel’s didn’t back up with action. Instantly, your eyes lower, head bowing in order to conceal the pinpricked pupils that dialate with desire. It burns in your belly, a cacophony of fantasies lashing against your eyelids at warp speed.

You in your shiny collar, name engraved on the customized nameplate with Azriel’s information on the back right under “If Found, Return To”

It’s purely involuntary, the desperate whimper that cuts through the bedchambers and Azriel pats at your head like some pampered pup in need of comfort. Offering love and fond coos when you easily correct the behaviors he doesn’t enjoy.

Obedient. Disciplined. Loyal. His.

“There’s a good girl. Keep that up and I’ll give you a treat.”

[arson-09]

Have been seeing some discussion again about tamlin being a good High Lord or not and I just have to remind everyone of one of the best little facts from acotar I never really seen mentioned.

Acotar, Chapter 25 Page 221

She [Alis] simply said, "Summer Solstice. The main celebration used to be at the Summer Court, but... Things are different. So now we have one here, too. You're going."

"so now we have one here too..." Because of amarantha and Tamlin being just a good person he allowed anyfae from any court to come to spring. And because no one could really go back to their courts for their respective solstice celebrations, Tamlin made sure Spring Celebrated all of them

I just think that's such a cool fucking thing. That Tamlin cared for the people coming to spring for safety, and he made changes to help everyone feel comfortable and at home. He cares about the people who live in Spring, he cares so damn much :(((

[captainsophiestark]

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

[violetasteracademic]

Velaris Memorial Hospital: Part Three Reveal

Last year, Velaris Memorial Hospital was little seed inspired by the late October leaves. A story of the Archeron sisters and the lives of the Bat Boys entangling in a hospital fraught with a scandal, and deeply inspired by the Tortured Poet's Department and Grey's Anatomy.

The Manuscript: Rhys and Feyre are star-crossed lovers who collide over a dirty pumpkin chai latte. She's a children's art therapist in the cancer ward at Velaris Memorial Hospital, and he's the new owner of the hospital. Their connection is undeniable. Perhaps a thing of soulmates. But with the tangled web of lawsuits and Feyre's unstable ex-fiancé at the center of it all, the mountains between them are higher than the stretch of the Velaris skyline. (Read the first six chapters here.)

The Albatross: Nesta and Cassian share a tense and steamy moment as strangers at a rooftop bar, only to find out they have to team up to save Velaris Memorial Hospital from the fallout of a scandal. Can the director of public relations and head of financial strategy maintain their professional lines while fighting each other and their chemistry? And will the skeletons in their closet and ghosts of their past keep them from being more than just physical? (Read the first three chapters here.)

And now it's time for...

Elain is a labor and delivery nurse at Velaris Memorial Hospital. Despite her chaotic and exhausting schedule, there is nothing she craves more than stability. Set guidelines. She never makes a decision if she isn't certain of the outcome. Newly engaged to Graysen Nolan, she's on track to have everything she ever wanted, even if it doesn't feel exactly how she imagined it would.

Azriel is a world renowned photojournalist on the front lines of war, humanitarian crises, and the parts of life that most people turn away from. He's traveled from country to country and lived out of hotels for years on end. His life is all risk, no rest, and no looking back. But lately, the thrill of the job isn't enough to keep him distracted from the demons he's been running from.

When Azriel takes a six month corporate photography contract to help his brothers rebuild Velaris Memorial Hospital's reputation, he crosses paths with Elain Archeron. On the surface, they couldn't be more different. But as layers peel away, their similar aches and dreams draw them together.

They decide to push each other to try new things and explore different sides of life. But as their connection deepens while time counts down on Azriel's contract, and Elain's fiancé urges her to start planning the wedding, they tow a dangerous line.

Read chapter one of Velaris Memorial Hospital here.

Thank you to @rosanna-writer @tealeaves-and-rosepetals and @yourstarsmyscars for the beta read, and thank you to all the readers who have given this project so much love and support!

Preview below the cut:

Chapter One: I Circled You on a Map

Summary:

Elain's engagement celebration with her sisters takes a turn that might alter more than just the course of the evening.

I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

This happens once every few lifetimes

Elain

“So…” I said, my hands fidgeting nervously in my lap. His eyes snapped up quickly, as if he was shocked by the sound of my voice. My throat caught, but he smiled softly at me, and something eased in my shoulders. “Where is your favorite place that you’ve ever traveled to?”

His mouth twitched, so slightly I almost missed it. “Coming in with the hard questions first, I see.”

“Really?” I giggled. “I assumed you'd be asked that all the time.”

“Not as often as you’d think,” he replied. There was something sad in his smile. Lonely.

“Okay, so not your favorite. Maybe��� the most… memorable? There wasn’t one place that just… struck you?”

I had never been anywhere but Velaris. Beyond my fear of flying, my family didn't take vacations or even go camping before my parents died. My sisters and I never bothered to get cars. Our life in the city was very insular and walkable, and we relied on public transit or ride sharing when necessary. We'd talked about renting a car to go on a road trip, but it never happened. Graysen and I planned for romantic getaways, but our schedules never lined up.

Still, even within my small world, there were places that stuck with me above the others. Certain houses that had particularly beautiful trim and architecture, or streets where the prettiest orange leaves fell on the dark cobblestones, brilliant and striking against the black wrought-iron gates that fenced in the rows of townhomes. Some places just crawl under your skin and take your breath away, even for simple reasons. 

Azriel hummed, considering. I felt it everywhere.

Gratitude rushed over me when the waiter dropped off our drinks at that moment. I needed to focus somewhere else so I didn’t seem like a creepy weirdo who couldn’t stop staring. 

I ordered The Lighthouse, a Virginia Woolf twist on a dark and stormy with lavender bitters. Azriel ordered non-alcoholic beer.

I briefly wondered if I should ask if he was bothered by my drinking, unsure if he avoided alcohol entirely or just this evening. But he clinked the rim of his bottle to everyone’s cocktails and seemed relaxed. Which was a relief, because although I hardly ever drank, I had already decided I was going to get extremely drunk this evening.

When he focused back on me, I noticed his gaze had a sound. It crackled.

“I’d say the place that struck me the most was Trieste,” Azriel finally answered after a few long sips.

“Where is Trieste?” I asked, gulping down my delicious drink garnished with lime, ginger, and a spring of fresh lavender. 

“Italy. But what makes it unique is that it's barely attached to the rest of the country. It’s a small port city on the gulf, on the opposite side of the Adriatic Sea from Venice. It’s like this tiny piece of Italy carved out of the coast of Slovenia, holding onto Italy by a near negligible strip of land.”

I stared at him wide-eyed. I’d never heard of Trieste before. My heart ached to see this small portside city across the sea from the rest of its country. To smell the salt air that only comes from being near that kind of water, and walk along the shimmering coastline with a rich espresso and pastry in hand.

And then, the alcohol must have already gone to my head. Because when I tried to picture the little dot on a map off on its own, on the other side of the sea from Rome and Florence and Naples, I started laughing.

Azriel’s lips sliced into a sardonic grin. God, he was really handsome. More than seemed fair for one mere mortal. Not that I was attracted to him in any meaningful way. It was simply an objective fact.

“What?” he asked, pursing his lips as if he was trying not to laugh at me laughing.

I took a deep breath and regained my composure as best as I could. “You must be quite the contrarian,” I said. At his raised brow, I clarified, “Your favorite place is the part of Italy separated from the rest of Italy? You're a total travel hipster.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was a bright glimmer to them as his lips quirked. “No one has said hipster in over a decade.”

“A hipster would say that,” I said sagely.

He laughed whole-heartedly, and my spine felt like a live wire. I waved at the waiter to ask for another drink.

“Okay…” He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “I see your point. But, counterpoint, part of what makes Trieste so special is how many cultures have influenced it throughout history. In Greco-Roman times, it was a settlement that belonged to the Roman empire. Then it fell under Habsburg rule, then the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was a free territory for a while, then came full circle and has been incorporated by Italy for about half a century, with countless other influences along the way. In Trieste, you can swim in the sea, visit Roman ruins, Austrian castles, attend a Slovenian theatre, go to a German cafe, or see canals comparable to Venice all in one day. Doesn’t that sort of make me the opposite of a hipster? To choose a place that has so many good things instead of one really niche thing?”

I could hardly breathe as my mind swirled with images of everything he was describing. I also tried to ignore how sexy it was that he knew so much about it and could to describe it in such vivid detail. Not in an annoying mansplaining kind of way, but…passionate. Curious. Deeply observant.

Sexy wasn’t the right word. I certainly was not imagining if that passionate curiosity and observance carried over into… sex. It was just the first word that popped into my head. And I couldn’t happen to think up a better replacement.

“There’s really a city like that?” I asked. It sounded too magical to be real.

“There really is,” he nodded. “I’ll show you the photos I took sometime.”

Heat rushed to the surface of my skin. “Alright,” I said, even though that could never happen.

Within the walls of Rita's, we were safe. So long as we weren't making plans beyond the evening, there was nothing to feel guilty about.

Subscribe on AO3 to keep updated as the story of the three brothers and the three sisters unfolds across Velaris Memorial Hospital!

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 1: Falling through the stars /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: When the four forces of nature are used at the same time in different places, their power resonates through the universe, connecting all of them together

Word Count: 3,1K

Warnings: Mentions of war, injuries and blood.

Notes: Welcome to the first official chapter of this weird crossover that came up in my mind, obviously this contains spoilers of both acotar and throne of glass, maybe a little crescent city spoilers but who cares? hehheheh

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Too much blood, so much that the metallic scent was making Nesta’s head spin. She watched the eerily silent baby in Morrigan’s arms, Rhysand’s pale face as he grasped his mate’s body. The silent plea in those violet eyes for someone to do something, anything to bring them back to him. 

All the wasted chances of apologising for years of abandonment, for letting her fourteen year old sister wander scared and alone in those cold woods, for letting her be taken to this world the first time, for allowing her back and for all the resentment Nesta felt towards herself crossed her mind. She never told Feyre how proud she was for everything she had become. A warrior, a High Lady, a mother. 

With a last glance towards the nephew she wanted to hold, the one she wanted to tell stories, the one she wanted to see grow and become a great leader just like his parents. The baby who had so much to live for, the baby who just needed a chance of a better life. 

It was for them and for them only that Nesta invoked that ancient power, prickling against her fingertips as she held the harp, the other two troves cold against her face and heavy against her head. And it was for them that she used them, no fear consuming her body, just the wish of saving her sister. And with that, Nesta stopped the time. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The universe felt as that wave of power crashed against the horn, and the other three troves sang in answer to that powerful call. A profane melody resonating throughout the stars, enveloping different worlds with its song. The females didn’t know what they had done, two strangers using the four items in unison, their power echoing, ripping the folds of space and time open.  

The gaps started to form, growing in places long forgotten, lands no one has ever heard about, all of them connected by the troves. Alluring and calling like a siren song, the most curious beings crossed it, falling in between the worlds, just small glimpses of the vastitude of the universe they never dared to study about. 

And it was through one of these gaps, staining the night sky of the Witch Kingdom in a bright light, that Y/N Blackbeak and Meraxes, her black wyvern fell. The winds roared, like an agonising screech trying to stop her, like they knew something she didn’t. Like they knew she would never return home. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

When she woke up that morning, rubbing her eyes and jumping out of the bed to start her day, she had no idea what was about to happen. After the war and all the centuries of damage in their home, the witches, both Ironteeth and Crochans working together, had a lot to do.

Everyday she would force her body out of the bed, keep going on autopilot ever since everything she loved was ripped away from her. She tried hard to keep going, like Asterin would’ve wanted her to, be there for Manon, like Asterin would. But Asterin wasn’t there anymore, she would never return with that grin of hers, never see the progress they made and the union of her people. Asterin was gone and she was left behind to try to mend her broken heart. 

She blinked the tears away, resting her forehead against the cold tiles of her bathroom, the hot water making the skin of her back turn red. The burning sensation grounding her when the memories flooded her mind like a river. The sadness in her heart was an unwanted guest.

 Asterin flew by her, a smirk on her face as her yellow eyes landed on her younger sister, Y/N atop Meraxes felt, deep within the heart that she didn’t even know she had. She looked in horror as the Thirteen aimed for the witch tower, their wyverns clearing the way for Asterin, she jumped from Narene, landing in the middle of the tower. 

Y/N couldn’t see, but she tried to reach for her sister, reach for the only person that ever loved her, reach for that sisterly bond that lied within her soul ever since Asterin chose to keep Y/N under her wing, to train her and teach her what her duty was. Asterin, who despite everything they have been taught, chose to love Y/N like she was family. 

Meraxes was tired, tired of fighting and flying, but she forced him to go to the Tower, to save Asterin. But she was too slow and too late, the light coming from the tower wasn’t dark, it was the purest shade of white, so bright that her vision got blurry, the impact sending her and the wyvern flying backwards, with such force that they hit the ground with a loud thud. Where the tower and the Thirteen once were, nothing stood. 

Y/N wiped the blue blood that streamed above her eyes, a loud roar forming in the back of her throat, rumbling through her bones, she threw her head up, her lips parting as she roared to the skies, Meraxes roaring with her. Crying it was a weakness,  witches didn’t cry, but Y/N braced herself, ignoring her arm bending in a wrong angle, the pain in her sliced face, thanks to a Yellowlegs that jumped on her and tried to slash her face open. 

And she cried, cried and cried on that battlefield, cried as she got back on her feet, cried as she ripped a part of her riding leathers, wrapping her broken arm tightly against her body, branding her sword and marching towards the battle again. She would be strong, Asterin wouldn’t want her to give up. She would fight to protect what Asterin believed. She would fight for a better world, and die for it if she had to. 

She fought until exhaustion, her body collapsing on the dirty ground. Claws caged her, lifting her from the ground, she gritted her teeth as pure agony flashed from her arm, her face was completely numb at this point and she fought to keep her eyes open. She blacked out when Meraxes reached the walls that kept Orynth intact, his claws letting her go, her body hitting the floor and rolling to the side.

Hafiza found her, ordering that other healers carry her bruised body inside. But her wounds were deeper than the ones marking her skin.

She allowed her tears to fall, mixing with the water, where no one could see her. An hour later she was wearing her riding gear, the red cloak hanging from her neck, part of the official uniform they had to use, to symbolise the union. 

The witches watched her as she walked towards the Queen’s council room, as her wingleader and responsible for the remaining wyverns, she was always present in the morning meetings. As everything the Valg made was destroyed after Erawan died, they wondered how the wyverns belonging to the witches that decided to fight for Aelin Galathynius still remained, concluding that they were tied to this land by the bonds shared between them and their riders, not by the Valgs anymore. 

“Good Morning.” Manon Blackbeak greeted, her commanders just nodded their heads in greetens to their queen. “How are the wyverns in the Ferian Gap?” The heads of the witches present turned to her, she held her head high at the sight of the eyes lingering in her scar. 

“They’re being trained, I shall fly there today to see their progress, but I'm sure that soon they will be big enough to bond witches.” The queen nodded, her red lips smiling warmly at her, Manon was trying hard to be the best version of herself, the one her Thirteen believed she was before they sacrificed themselves for her. 

“I’ll go with you. I want to see them too.” And Y/N wondered if that sudden interest of going too wasn’t because it was weeks since she saw a certain handsome King in Adarlan. 

“Yes, my queen.” She dipped her chin in a silent bow of her head. Turning her mind off as the meeting kept going. Playing with her claws, scraping slowly the surface of the table, watching as faint lines marked into the wood. The morning meetings were boring as fuck. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“Good boy.” She scratched the wyvern’s chin, the animal shaking its tail like he was just a very big dog. No wonder Meraxes and Abraxos were really good friends, they were two gigantic puppies, with mortal claws and teeth, just like her. 

“You want to place a bet that these two will wait for us in a flower field?” Manon asked, the two females walked towards the entry of Ferian a few hours later. Y/N laughed, the skin of her scar pulling a bit as she did so.

“It’s not even something debatable anymore, those flowers sniffling addicts.” Manon smiled.

“You remind me of her.” The white haired witch blurted and Y/N came to a stop. 

“We do not even look alike.” She tried to joke, with shoulder length light brown hair, dark blue eyes and the slightly more tanned skin, she couldn’t be any more different from Asterin, but she knew what Manon meant and she didn’t wanted to think about it, even if the witch just felt the need to speak it outloud. 

“You could be twins.” She joked, but her expression turned to a serious one very quickly. “You have the heart just as good as hers was, and that’s where you two are equals to me.” She didn’t answer, the tears too heavy to carry. Manon didn’t demand a response when Y/N stopped, leaving the younger witch alone for a bit. 

The Ferian Gap was as it usually was, damp and smelling like wyvern shit. The animals roared and flew around in the pit. Witches trained them and fed them. Not a single one chained, all of them free to go but they chose to stay. The younglings were still learning how to fly while the elders tried to teach them how, it was honestly really cute. She was leaning against a wall, Manon’s words still replaying themselves in her head, when a different scent filled her nostrils. 

“Aelin’s delivery boy, what a pleasure to see you again.” She spoke, not even turning back to know that Fenrys Moonbeam was walking behind her, he let out a low chuckle. 

“And here I was thinking I was an ambassador.” He stopped by her side. Eying the witch up and down, recognizing the grief lacing her features. 

“Just a fancy name, I like to call it what it really is, delivery boy.” She snickered and Fenrys rolled his eyes. 

“I hate you.” He nudged her with his elbow, his braid moving behind his back as he did it. 

“Yeah yeah, mean witch and shit, I know that.” The male chuckled and she turned face to face with him. “What do you need?” After the war, she and Fenrys had grown really close, working together as Ambassadors for both of their queens. Wingleader her ass, Manon used her to gather resources and talk to important people. 

“Actually, Aelin sent me here cuz she apparently has a very important meeting with the ladies of her court.” She knew what this meant, it was Aelin’s way to gather her friends and make sure they were alive. 

“Am I invited this time?” She joked. 

“Unfortunately no, but can I invite you for some beers?” He was the closest friend she had now.

“I would love to. Are you free to have one in the Witch Kingdom?” The male nodded.

“Just need to do my job real quick.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Fenrys held her waist, she could feel his shaking body against her back, caging her between him and the saddle. She smirked as she turned slightly to him.

“Can’t I go by foot?” He asked and she giggled.

“Too far away. You’re stuck with us, Meraxes will behave.” She promised and Fenrys nodded. She could feel his tense body during the three hour flight, the male squeezed his eyes shut, if that’s what Rowan had to deal with in his animal form, he was glad to be stuck as a wolf. Being that far away from the ground was a big no for him.

The wyvern landed, and Fenrys more than happily slid down his leg, grounding himself and thanking the Gods he was still alive. 

“Are you alright?” She sounded genuinely concerned, but when he turned to her, he saw that smirk. “A certain Lord of Perranth would love to know about this.” Fenrys pretended to be hurt.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He started to follow her towards the tavern.

“Someone has to help that poor dude, with you and your queen constantly mocking him.” Fenrys held the door open for her, following her to a more secluded table. 

“He deserves it.” He defended himself. “The usual?” The witch nodded, and he went to the counter ordering their drinks. 

“How are you?” She asked, and Fenrys watched as a trickle of blood ran down her chin. 

“I’m better, really.” He sighed. “How are you?”

“I’ve seen better days.” She joked, downing the goblet of blood in one go. “But I will be fine.” And for her sake, Fenrys hoped that she was right.

“I don’t know how you do that.” He changed the subject and the witch raised an eyebrow, the scar going up too with the move. “The blood, I mean.” He scrunched his nose. 

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” She raised the goblet in his direction but he knew she was asking for another round. 

The two sat there, for hours, talking. The sky was pitch black and the stars shone bright in the sky. He was telling a story about some drunk fae wanting to pet him when a witch burst through the door. Her cheeks were red and her cloak followed her like a river of blood. 

“Bronwen needs you and your alliance to check something up, it’s important.” She stated, when Manon was away, it was her cousin that took care of things for her alongside Petrah Blueblood. Y/N turned to Fenrys, opening her mouth to apologise.

“Go do your duty, delivery girl.” He joked and she flipped him off, following the witch outside and whistling loudly to call Meraxes. 

She was in the air before the witch had the chance to get on top of her broom. Flying towards the castle, where her alliance waited for her. She slid down, her feet hitting the ground with a loud thud. She glanced at Shearah, her second in command.

“What’s wrong?” She demanded, the witch locked eyes with her.

“The witches saw a gap to the west, they don’t know what it is, but we can hear its call.” Y/N focused her hearing, like a faint whisper being carried by the wind, she could hear, calling, lulling, inviting them to see what was waiting for them on the other side. 

“Let’s go.” She adjusted her sword behind her back, hidden by the cloak, and the dagger resting against her thigh. Mounting Meraxes again, she was running towards the gap, following the melody.

 ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The gap wasn’t that big, just a few inches, a slit like a snake eye looking at her, daylight peeked through it, interrupting the darkness in the sky. She had never seen something like this before. A chill ran down her spine. 

“Stay behind!” She warned, the alliance forming a wall behind her. 

She got closer, the thing looked like it was getting smaller by the second, she clicked her jaw, iron teeth covering her real ones, and her claws emerged from the tips of her fingers. Ready to attack in case something dared to cross. Just a closer look

The wind stopped its song, she couldn’t hear it anymore. The terrified faces of her alliance were the last thing she saw before she was sucked into the gap, watching with horror the night sky fading as it closed. She felt like she was falling, clutching the reins in the saddle with an iron grip. Her voice lost in the folds of space as she screamed. Falling, falling and falling. 

Until everything stopped, and she was dangling upside down, the parts of the saddle that held her in place caging her in, forcing against her skin, bruising the flash. Meraxes had fallen to the side, and she groaned as her head started to pound. She was struggling to get out of the saddle, but as she did, her body hit the floor. Pain started to appear from the point she had fallen on top of a rock and she huffed in annoyance.

She circled Meraxes, slapping its leathery nose, the wyvern was still breathing and she released the air she was holding, he opened its eyes, golden eyes meeting hers and she was never more thankful to see those big eyes curiously scanning her. 

The wyvern slowly got up, pulling her closer with a wing. She looked around, removing the pellicule that covered her eyes as she flew, a city was standing nearby, mountains surrounding it, the sight was quite beautiful but all she could wonder was. Where the FUCK she was? 

Things got even more confused when she heard the sound of steps against the fluff grass. Meraxes growled at the strangers approaching her. Stones shone in the two of them, one red and one blue. 

“What the fuck?” The male with the red stones yelled, his sword looking like a foolish attempt to protect himself from the really long teeth and sharp claws of the beast in front of him. She reached for her sword, armed and ready to attack. She was about to jump on them when they got closer and she could see their faces now.

The air was knocked out of her lungs and she wondered if she had gone insane, the achingly familiar face looked at her, the male was tall, beautiful big wings spread across his back, his hazel eyes studied her, trying to distinguish where to attack the threat. She felt like she knew him, her heart exclaiming that yes, she did know him, but her brain didn’t remember him, it wasn’t ready to remember him just yet. She shook her head and fixed her instance, the two stopped at the sight of her teeth glowing in the sun, ready to rip their skin apart.

“Where am I?” The female snarled and the beast behind her furiously stared at them, ready to rip them to shreds.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames VI || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: Suggestive, slight smut(?), language and my english :) A/n: Sorry for the waiting, but thank you for your patience! I'll see you at the end of the chapter, and if you want to be added to the taglist just let me know🫶🏻 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3- Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Your back was pressed against some wall. His fingers felt like a ghost's touch on your neck, tracing immaginary lines all over your collarbone while everything inside you were on fire.

His scent was the only thing you could smell. Honey, burned wood, maple. He felt like the fire that kept you warm during the cold winter nights, like the sound of falling leaves in a autumn day, like a welcome breeze under the summer sun, like the perfume of a flowery meadow in spring.

His hot breath crashed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Tell me to stop, Little Flame."

Your eyes shut closed. Why would you want it to stop when it felt so heavenly?

As an answer you locked your hands behind his neck and brought his body toward yours, making you officially presseded between the wall and him.

His lips rested against the sweet spot behind your ear and you bite your lips to prevent any unholy sounds to leave your mouth. He started to slowly kiss your neck as one of his hands went into your hair, and tilted your head to give him more access, while the other grabbed firmly your waist, pinning your hips against the wall.

If his lips hadn't been enough to drive you crazy, his leg making its way between yours surely was. "This is all I dream about since the day I met you." he whispered with a low, rasped voice. He bite your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and making you grab his hair tightly as your head fall back against the wall behind you. "How would you taste..." his leg moved between yours, putting some pressure against your pulsing core, and this time you didn't hold the moan that grew in your throat. "The sounds you would make..."

Mother boils you.

His voice, his scent, his body. You could get lost in all of it and you would be eternally happy. It was so right being in his arms, pressed against his as your bodies were one. It felt as right as the stars shining during the night. As the sun rising at dawn. As the sun warming the day at its peak. As the sun seeting during dusk.

You were a torch and his mouth travelling down your neck, claiming every bit of it, was the spark that set you on fire. You wanted to burn, and you wanted to burn with him. His hair in your hands felt like they had always supposed to be there; his hot breath against your skin made you believe that no clothes or blanket would keep you warm again. His hands felt like they were shaped to be on your body, while him...he had been made to be with you.

Your head started to feel lighter, the air around you becoming colder with each breath. He stopped abruptly his movements and grabbed your hair tighter, as if he was holding it for his life. He brought his face away from your neck, and as you opened your eyes you were met with two golden pounds staring already in yours.

Eris.

Seeing him cleared something in your mind, and all of it suddenly felt more real. His hands were still holding you, and when his gaze softened you melted.

"I don't want to wake up." He whispered softly, as if he was afraid to speak too loud. "This is the only time I can be with you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting slightly your head. 'Waking up'? You were very awake, and the male in front of you was exactly where he needed to be.

You brought a hand on his cheek, caressing the line of his face softly. Cauldron, he was so beautiful. If someone had asked you what perfection looked like, you would describe Eris, since there wasn't a single thing about him that hadn't been touched by the Mother herself.

"I am with you." You softly said while you gently pushed one of his curls away form his forehead. "We can be together whenever we want."

And why wouldn't you? There was nothing to stop you from being with him. His eyes hold the door of your home, there was nothing in the world that could keep you away from it. From him.

His narrowed his eyes, and you swore his gaze was burning right inside your soul. "You're here." he sounded surprised, like he had never seen you before. His fingers untangled from your hair and caressed you cheek, almost urgently, like you were doing to disappear at any moment.

You leaned in his touch as you let out a soft chuckle. "Why wouldn't I be?"

It was such a stupid question. You had always been with him. You had been with him from the moment you were born, you had been with him in all the past lives and you still would be with him in the nexts.

His eyes darkened. His fingers traces the line of your jawline, slowly, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. They moved towarch your chin, then your lips, and you slightly parted them as his thumb caressed your lower lip.

"Oh, Little Flame..." he was so close now that you felt his breath on your mouth. "So many reasons, and it's just a matter of time before you'll remember them."

Then he did something that completely shocked you. He brought both hands on your cheeks, and tilted his head upward, placing a soft, warmn kiss against your forehead. Your hands fell from his face to his shoulders, keeping him there, against you.

Your eyes closed as he kept his lips pressed against your head. This. You wanted this. You wanted him.

"I will make this right. I will kill my father so that he will never be able to hurt you. I will kill everyone who'll want to harm you. I will burn everything that will stop you from being happy." he brought his lips away, and his eyes met yours again. "I had been a monster, and I still will be one if it means protecting you. I swear this on my court, the only good thing I had in my life before you. And you and me are going to share it one day. Side by side, we will make it blooms with all the goodness that my father had crashed during the centuries. You'll have everything of me: goods and bads. It will all be yours."

Your breath was short, your heart was racing in your chest. His voice, so full of determination made it impossible to feel even a sheer of shame for wanting that monster. For wanting everything of him.

"Tell me you want this, Little Flame." he whispered, his face leaning a inch closer to yours.

Then, as you opened your mouth to answer him, everything went black.

***

You gasped for air as you opened your eyes and quickly sat up. Where were you? Everything was dark. The surface under you was soft and you swore that was silk the material touching your bare legs.

Town house. Velaris. Night Court.

Your still asleep mind quickly worked all the basic informations that you needed to calm down.

Where was Eris?

You had been together a moment ago, you swore you could still smell his scent in your nose. The sensations you were feeling were so similar to the one of winnowing, but no. It was a dream.

You were dreaming.

Of Eris.

It had felt so real. His touch, his voice, his smell. The feeling of his hands holding you felt like impressed in your body, and for a moment you shivered from the lack of it.

"Tell me you want this."

Cauldron, what were you going to say to him?

You swore you had been about to tell him something, but you couldn't remember what.

What would you answer now?

Gods, if only you knew that.

Your hand brushed back your hair as you sighed. He had offered you his court. Him. Would you have taken it?

In the dream you knew you would have. But in the real world? If Eris came to you and offered to you his whole being, what would you do?

Are you even listening to yourself? Eris? Offering you what?

The voice in your head scowled you like a child, and a wave of embarassment grew inside you. The dream really fucked you up. Even losing time to think about it was proof of your foolishness.

You had been training togheter for threee weeks now, and you had gotten kind of used to his presence. You had considerably improved with your powers, and somehow, at some point, you and Eris had even started to joke.

But, unfortunately, joking didn't come easy for you the next time you saw him. As soon as you saw his eyes the memory of the dream struck you and you had to hide your face with your hair in order to not let him see the deep blush that was forming on your cheeks.

The worst thing was that if before you just found him attractive, now everything he did made your head going dizzy. Like he moved his fingers to produce fire, or how his voice would lower when he gave you instructions.

You hadn't realized that he was behind you until his velvet voice said something in your ear you didn't catch, and the flames you were controlling over your hands exploded, burning some trees around you.

"That, I think Kallias would mind." snorted ironically Eris behind you, pointing to the trees.

You rolled your eyes as you quickly stepped away from him, having noticed that the closer you were the more flustered you got. "It was your idea to train in the Winter Court this time."

His eyes studied your movements, and you knew that he had noticed the distance you were keeping that day, he knew that something was wrong, and, oh Mother, you hoped he couldn't know why.

"You have enough control now, it doesn't matter where we train." He said with calm voice you knew he used when he was studying something. "But today you seem...distracted. Is something on your mind?"

Cauldron, it had been just a dream. He didn't know about it. He didn't know that everytime your eyes fell on him you felt a strange pull inside you, like the memories of his hands, lips and body on yours were still imprinted in your mind.

"Nope, all good." you quickly replied, waving a hand in the air and facing the snowing landscape again. "Must be the dinner. Azriel made me try a new spicy food."

'Must be the dinner'? Was this really the best thing that went in your mind?

Thankfully he dropped the subject, but it didn't go unnoticed his amused smirk.

You were so lost in your thoughts, mostly of him pushing you against the nearest tree, that when Azriel arrived you didn't even asked Eris the question that you were suppose to.

***

Everything was a mess. Nesta had been captured for the Blood Rite, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Eris had been captured by Briallyn and Rhys and Feyre had made a bargain to die togheter.

Eris had been captured.

By that bitch of Briallyn.

You tried hard to control the deafining song of your blood running wild in your veins. You would kill her. You would kill Briallyn for everything that she did, and you would make her suffer.

"Az can't go alone. We need you, Cassian." Feyra's voice was a low whisper over the rage that was building inside you.

Cassian, that bastard, had the nerve to esitate and then say, "Let him die."

"Screw you!" You jumped on your feet as you said those words, facing Cassian as if you weren't three feet shorter. You wouldn't let Eris die, and if you had to fight Cassian then it was better for his wings to be fireproof. "Eris is your ally, what kind of General are you if you let your allies to die?"

Cassian's eyes flared with rage that you were sure matched your own. "Your sister had been captured for the Blood Rite and you worry about some asshole who would be better off dead anyway?!"

You lift your chin higher, staring at the Lord of Bloodshed right in the eyes. "When my sister will come out alive from the Blood Rite, and she will, she'll only feel ashamed to be with someone who left everything crumble out of sadness for her disappearence."

Your words found their marks as Cassian winced under your gaze. People often forgot that Nesta was your twin, not vice versa. Every sharp behaviours she possesed, you had them sharper.

"Y/n." Feyre's warning tone made your head snap toward her.

"What?" you spitted out as your whole body tremble , begging you to take action and save Eris.

Rhys shifted shlightly in front of his mate, as if you were the threat at her life.

If you hadn't burn down his entire office few days ago he wouldn't be so caution around you, the voice in your head scoffed in your mind.

You couldn't have helped yourself. When Nesta told you and Feyre that the baby would likely kill your little sister, and that the whole Inner CIrcle knew about it and voted to keep Feyre in the shadows you had stormed inside Rhys' office and reminded him that while you were training with Madja to how use your power to heal, destruction came pretty easily to you if he dared to make choices for Feyre again.

"Maybe the Made dagger we gave him will grant him immunity from the Crown. If he's carrying the dagger, if they haven't unarmed him, it might shield him against another Made object." Feyre tried to reassure you with a calm voice, and somehow you felt even more sick.

You were showing everyone that you actually cared for the Heir of Autumn, the same male they all despise, and a wave of embarassment run all over you. It wasn't enough to calm the boiling blood inside you, but at least it made you take a step away from Cassian.

He was a mated male whose mate had just been captured in the middle of the night, you couldn't really blame him for not caring about anything else.

And we'll just pretend that this realization means nothing? A voice in your mind said sarcastically, but you shut it down before any following thoughts could come with it.

"There are plenty of other methods to get him to talk." Azriel's said darkly, and that sick sentation was back in your stomach.

If Briallyn did so much as touch him you would kill her with your bare hands, making her regret to be born in the same world as you were.

"I'll go with you." you said to Azriel, not leaving room for any arguments in your voice.

Amren scoffed beside him. "Stupidly honourable, but even if Cassian and Azriel are training you, you are no fighter girl. You can't even control your fire."

Your eyes snapped at her, and with a lazy smirk on your lips you rose your right hand, palm up toward the ceiling and let a fire as big as your face appear on it. "Can't I?"

A gasp escaped her mouth as Cassian widened his eyes. Amren narrowed hers as she studied you cautionly. "How?"

"I trained." You said with a little shrug, as you let your fire taking different forms over your hand. "With the same male that you are willingly letting in our enemy's hands."

Amren sneered a 'foolish girl' while her eyes shifted toward an unsurprised Feyre and Rhys, understanding that twice she had been left out of their secrets.

"Why?" Cassian asked beside you, looking at the flames on your hand. "He did nothing to deserve your trust."

You bit the inside your cheek, holding your tongue before you snapped back some comments that would only cause more troubles.

"He saved my life during the war with Hybern." you stated seriously, knowing it was time for them to know the truth. The way Azriel's eyes widened slightly made you understand that Rhys had just told him about your bargain with Eris, not the entire story. "I was with Elain when Hybern's soldiers found us. I told her to run while I stayed behind to buy her time...they were going to kill me if it hadn't been for Eris." You looked back at Cassian, your chin always high as you dared out the words that had been hunting you for months. "I know that in your shared history Eris had never proven to be trustworthy, but in ours shared past he did, and I'm going to repay the debt I own him."

Had you revealed too much of your thoughts? Had you looked like a stupid, naive girl obsessed over a male? You didn't care. Eris was in danger, and something warm inside you needed to save him, even if you were almost sure he would have never done the same for you.

"Be quick. Don't go near Briallyn for any reason." Rhys intructed you as you summoned the fighting leathers that Cassian had gifted you after three full weeks of training. "Y/n, follow their instruction and don't let emotions cloud your judgment. Eris might depends on your clear mind more than we can imagine."

You nodded before stepping beside Azriel and let him winnow you on the other side of the continent.

***

Eris was nowhere to be found in the lands surrounding the queens' castle, and you swore if you didn't find him before a week you would start to burn every piece of that castle until you found him.

You talked with a human merchant that was arriving just from the palace, and you weren't ashamed to say that you had used your High Fae's beauty to make him tell you if he had seen any 'new Fae male' around. He told you that a redhaired Fae male had been dragged to the castle the night before the last, and your stomach twisted at the word dragged.

Images of Eris hurt, bloody and chained flashed through your mind. You would make Briallyn pay for what she did.

"We'll wait here until they leave the castle. Then trail them from the cloud clover." Azriel instructed you with a dark tone that matched your face.

But no one went in or out of the castle for days. No one walked even close to it, the gate had stayed shut down closing the citizien in and the rest of the world out.

Cassian and Azriel patrolled the sky while you made sure to cover every inch of the ground surrounding the castle.

"Briallyn has to know we're here." Cassian said has he alit, his latest aerial survey completed. "You think she's waiting for us to make a move?"

"The place is guarded with as many wards as the House of Wind. If Briallyn is moving Eris, we'll be better off catching him then." Azriel said calmly, while shadows whispered in his ears.

"If he's still alive..." you murmur while you lit a little fire to keep all the three of you warm during the night.

The thought of Eris' death had placed roots in your head as soon as you had left Velaris. Your whole body froze everytime you remembered that you had no proof that the redhead still breath. You could feel his precense inside the castle, your whole soul knew that he was there, but maybe you were just sensing a body. A lifeless, cold, death body.

The thought of Eris' body turning cold felt unnatural, sending shivers of wrongness through your spine. Eris was warm, always radiating warmness to whoever was around him. He could never be cold. You would forbid it.

"I have every reason to believe he is." Azriel's voice woke you from your throughts.

You rose your eyes from the fire to him, and found two hazel pounds already looking at you. Studying you. "How? You said yourself that your shadows can't get inside the castle."

Azriel's stoned face stayed silent for a while, as if he was reading right through you. What was the spymater seeing was above your knowledge. For a moment you felt like an opponent that he was studying to understand her secrets, but true was that you hold any, even thought Azriel's gaze suggested otherwise.

"If Eris was dead, I have the rights to believe that everything would be different." You furrowed your eyebrows, not following his paths of thoughts. "This conversation would have never existed in the first place."

You braced your arms around your legs as your fingers played with the fire in front of you as you used to do when you couldn't sleep when you were a child. "Let's hope you're right."

I'll find you Eris, you are not alone.

***

Four days.

Four fucking days and still nothing of Eris.

"Four fucking days." Cassian hissed from where the three of you monitored the castle, echoing your thoughts. "We've been sititing on our asses for four fucking days."

"It's seems you've forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment." Azriel said as his blade met yours. He had decided to keep training you during those days, both to occupy time and to make you ready for a fight situation. "This one was sloppy. Ground your feet better on the ground. People don't engage in their evil deeds when it's convenient to you."

Fighting looked like a second nature to Azriel as he changed conversation between you and Cassian as if you were trying to disarm him at every possible occasion.

"You would think that Beron would be worried after his son hasn't returned for days." You said between your breaths as Azriel changed from a defensive position to an offensive one. "instead here we are, only three of us looking for him."

"Beron likely knows what is happening to Eris." snorted Cassian crrosing his arms. "He might even see a lot of opportunities to have his heir under the command of the Crown."

Anger rose inside you before you could even notice it. Was there anyone in this world who cared for Eris? His mother probably, but she had been under Beron's talons too long to even do something in order to protect him.

He has you now, your mind said on its own.

Silently you accepted what had long grew inside you. If Eris had no one who cared about him, then you must be dead, five feet under ground. Caring for him didn't mean trusting him blindly. Didn't mean that you would give him the moon on a string if he asked you to. It meant that if a bitch of a Queen took him then you would rip the whole Phrytian apart to find him.

"Control your anger." Azriel commaned as you noticed that your strikes had become harder. "Let it control you and you are dead on a battlefield."

Before you could answer Cassian shot to his feet. "Someone's leaving the castle."

Azriel didn't wait any second before grabbing your waist and launching into the skies as Cassian followed you. Your arms locked behind Azriel's neck as your eyes skanned the ground from the cover of clouds that now hid you.

"I don't see a prison wagon." Cassian said over the wind as you watched the small caravan leaving the eastern city gates.

You were gratefult for a moment that your power made impossible for you to feel any kind of cold, or the chill air would have you trembling like a leaf.

Azriel's gaze remained on the earth below. "They don't need one." he said with quiet venom.

Something inside you stirred, like a string attached to your ribs, and you new who you would see before your eyes landed on him. You suddenly hold your breath, and there, riding at the front of the party, side by side with a hunched, small figure, was Eris.

You almost jumped from Azriel as soon as you saw him. You needed to know if he was alright, you needed him to know that you were there, for him.

"Stupid asshole." Cassian snarled. "She snared him with the Crown."

"No," Azriel said quietly, and you swore his hold grew a bit tighter around you and his tone become apologetically. "Look at his left. He's still got the dagger at his side. If he was in her thrall, he'd have already handed it over."

No.

No. No. No.

"So possessing another Made object does protect him against the Crown." Cassian accusation set in the air and your ears started to ring. "Traitor."

No.

You refused to believe it was true.

Eris would have never betrayed you. Any of you. Not when Briallyn was everything he stad against to. Not when allying to Briallyn meant leaving his father on the throne of the Autumn Court.

"There must be another explanation." You said, and hated how your voice sounded weak. "He must be playing along. Making her believe he is under the Crown's control."

"We follow them. Capture Eris now and we might not get anything out of him. We trail them and learn how far this betrayal goes, if there is any." You had the feeling that he added the last part just for you. "See who they're meeting with. It has to be important, for them to leave the safety of the castle."

What if Briallyn had promised Eris to overthrow his father? What if he had found another, more convenient, alliance in her? What if everyone had been right, and he had just been manipulating you?

As you followed the caravan for three days those thoughts eat you alive. Sometime you were sure that they were wrong, and Briallyn was indeed controlling Eris. Other times you wanted to bury yourself alive to have thought that you could have trusted him.

There was a flicker inside you that you couldn't understand what was, but sometime a voice would come out of it, telling you to run. The voice was so similar to Eris' that you thought you were really going crazy if you had started to hear his voice in your head.

But the worse part was when you were sleeping, because you would dream of him, glassy eyed, looking straight in front of him not matter how many times you yelled his name.

You could not see a inch from your nose. It seemed like you were in the middle of a cloud, making everything around you blurr and grey. Your thoughts were slow, your breathing hard, and walking felt like trying to go through a block of jelly.

"Run."

A voice echoed around you, but you could not see where the person was.

"Run away as fast as you can."

Eris.

Eris was somewhere close to you. "Where are you?" you asked back, trying to follow whatever the string inside you was.

"She will kill you." he said, and this time a flicker of red hair appeared among the clouds. "If you are lucky, she'll only kill you. If not, she'll make me handle you over my father, and he'll make me watch."

His voice sounded hollow, as if he had repeated those words so many times that they had lost meaning. You had no idea what nonsense he was talking about, but you'll be damned if you wouldn't reach him this time.

As you were close enough you saw him. His eyes were vacant, looking at something in front of him. His posture straight, like a soldier waiting for orders.

A sigh of relief washed over you.

Eris was there. You had found him, and you had no intention to let him be taken away from you again.

With your right hand you grabbed his, while you brought the left one on his cheek and make his gaze fell on you. "Look at me." You said firmly. "I'm here. Look at me, Eris. Tell me you recognize me."

His amber eyes met yours, and you knew that the world might start to end now, but you would never look away from his eyes if it meant freeing him from the Crown's control.

"Go back to Velaris." he sounded almost pleading, but his eyes stayed vacant, as if he was seeing right through you.

Your hold on his hand and cheek thightened. "Only if you come with us."

You would not leave him. You could not leave him. His mind was being controlled, he was under the control of a Made object and it was a good damn think that the Cauldron had Made you too. Had given you Made powers.

You could beat the fog around him, even if momentarily.

You closed your eyes and concentrated on the burning flames inside you. You called to them, urging them to grow and grow until there were enough for you to pull them out.

Your eyes flushed open as a bubble of fire had created around the two of you, keeping the fog outside while around you the forest come into view.

"I hope your mind is a bit clearer now." You smirked slightly as you saw him blinking quickly, waking up from whatever dreaming state Briallyn had put him through.

"You're here." his tone was surprised as his eyebrow furrowed, trying to understand what was happening. His hands quickly grabbed your waist, as if he didn't believe that yes, you were actually in front of him.

Should you ignore the butterflies that appeared in your stomach as his hands grabbed you? Definetly yes.

"For someone who lived five hundred years you get surprised too often." You commented with an amused smirk.

He matched your amused grin for a moment, then his face darkened. "This is a dream."

You watched him confused. "Is it?"

"The mat-" he stopped mid sentence as his eyes buried holes in yours. "The bond created by the bargain is making this possible." he said slowly, as if his throat had suddenly gone dry. "But it doesn't matter. I cannot fight her, Y/n. You have to go away before she find you. She knows you're here."

"We are not leaving without you." you stated firmly, almost offended that he suggested otherwise. "Can you not walk away from her so that we can take you?"

He shook his head. "I breath only because she commands so. I cannot do anything without her permission." Flickers of anger appeared inside you again. "Promise me something."

You nodded, and you ashamely knew that if he kept looking at you with that intensity you would have done anything he wanted.

"If it comes to me or you, you chose yourself, and don't make the same selfless, foolish choice that I would make."

Absolutely fucking not.

"No. I'll find a way to not let it come to that." it was your turn to shook your head. "You saved my life, remember? It is time for me to do the same."

"Yes, Little Flame, I saved your life, and I'll do it again a thousands time." You were going to cry. Or kiss him. Or maybe both. "She controls minds, not emotions. So spare me the pain that your death would bring on me."

You had not time to process his words as he pushed you away from him, right outside the bubble of fire and into the fog.

A/N: Are we all seeing the parallels between the two of them? Two dreams in the same chapters, I hope you liked the idea🫶🏻 next chapter we'll get some action from our Eris and our reader! Also, YOU ARE SO MANY WTF?! When I started to write this fic it was just an idea I had in my head and that I wanted to share, and now you all want to read more?! Thank you all for reading this, let me know if you liked it and what you wish to see next🫶🏻

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world@sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @webvics@paliketerson @lizzytish82 @tincanhat @marrass @acourtofmoonlightandstars @yasmin-oviedo @ghostwritermia @marly500 @kabekusa @gamarancianne @butterfix @itsxchar6 @iowaladynerd @that-girl-reading @kitsunetori @rcarbo1 @username199945 @giana1508 @homeslices @yasmin-oviedo @impossibelle @

[faithisyours]

Never Done Teasing

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: All day you've been teasing Azriel. Now it’s time for his revenge.

Warnings: Mean Az!, bondage with shadows…shadow bondage? Maybe slightly dub con? Oral M!receiving, rough sex, kinda emotional sex, orgasm denial, coming inside, spanking, degradation, praise, anal, spitting, crying, aftercare, not proofread. This fic is filthy and disgusting. You’ve been warned.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Sup fuckers. I’m back to terrorize you all. We've got a spicy one on our hands today. Inspiration came, and now I have a lot of ideas for fics. Will I write them, though? *cricket noises* Anyways, minors gtfo. Hope you enjoy it! If you have ideas for fics, hand them over (if you want) :)

Azriel slams the front door of your shared house behind him, making the hanging picture frames sway. He smacks your ass, which just so happens to be right next to his face, considering he has you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The harsh hit causes a squeak to escape you, but you really can't blame anyone but yourself for the situation you're in.

You’ve just come home from dinner with the Inner Circle. Actually, it’s more appropriate to say you’ve just been dragged away from dinner with the Inner Circle by your mate, Azriel. All day you've been teasing and taunting him, but what you had been doing at the dinner table surrounded by your friends was his breaking point. It had started this morning when you had not-so-innocently wiggled your ass into his crotch, making him hard as stone, then proceeded to not help him one bit with getting rid of that hardness. Then there were your touches throughout the day, your lingering hand on his arm at breakfast, your thighs brushing his as you walked past him in the training ring, your eyes burning into his while he sparred with Cassian. And then there was the outfit you had decided to wear to dinner: a tight little black dress that showed off all your assets, as well as made Azriel short circuit every time he looked at you.

And then there was what you had done at dinner. You were all in the middle of eating and the conversation had shifted to discussing some of the new shops around Velaris when your hand had found its way onto Azriel’s thigh. The contact was innocent at first, but as the dinner dragged on, so too did your hand, making its way up and curling in. Your fingers drew lazy patterns across his thigh, which you knew was driving Azriel mad. And all the while you continued your conversation, participated and joked with your friends, acted like nothing was going on under the table.

Azriel had been notably quieter at dinner, considering it was taking everything in him not to bend you over the table and fuck you that instant, friends being present or not. Rhys had been the first to comment on his quietness.

“Everything alright, Az? You seem awfully quiet this evening,” Rhys asked when Azriel hadn’t laughed at something Rhys knew he would find funny.

“Everything’s fine,” Az assured, although rather tightly. But you had felt the need to chime in.

“Are you sure, baby? You haven’t uttered a full sentence all evening,” you purred, knowing damn well it was because of you. In answer, he just looked at you, smoldering heat and the plotting of revenge swirling in his hazel eyes. The conversation continued on, and Azriel stayed relatively silent the entire night.

As soon as dinner was done, Azriel had excused the both of you and hauled your ass back home, winnowing with you thrown over his shoulder. And now here you are, getting lugged towards your shared bedroom with your ass in the air and a completely pissed off and horny mate.

As soon as you reach your bedroom, Azriel throws you down on the bed unceremoniously. “Strip,” he commands, and his tone leaves no room for argument. As you get up from the bed to shed yourself of your clothes, Azriel makes himself busy with taking off his own shirt and unlacing the front of his pants. He leaves those on, though, his hard length straining against the material.

“Kneel,” he commands next. You pause for only half a second before you do as he says. You see he notes the hesitation, but doesn’t say anything. If you’re uncomfortable, you will say something, and he will stop. You know that fact like the back of your hand.

He pulls himself out with a hiss, his tip red and raw and glistening. You lick your lips, ready for him. All day you’ve teased and taunted him, getting him riled up and letting him simmer. Finally you’re reaping the fruits of your labor: for him to be rough, to not hold back, to use you as he pleases.

His shadows wrap around to pin your hands behind your back, making your chest arch forward. Your nipples are hard, core aching for attention, attention you know you won’t be getting for a while. Azriel brushes his thumb over your lips roughly, his eyes tracing the movement before locking with yours. All you see in them is icy steel, no hint of compassion or love. You know that it’s there, his love for you, but right now he has other emotions to contend with.

“Open,” he says, and it's almost quiet enough for you to not hear him, but you do. He doesn’t tease. He threads your hair through his fingers, gripping hard enough for tears to spring up, and shoves his cock down your throat. You choke, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps himself there, prodding the back of your throat, until you’ve managed to breath at least somewhat correctly.

And then he starts moving, long, slow dragges of his cock against your tongue, pulling out to the tip so just your lips are on him, then long, deep pushes back into the warmth of your mouth. All the while heat and ice clash in his gaze.

“I think the Mother gave me a whore as a mate. What do you think?” he purrs, cocking his head. “You’ve teased me all day, kept me hard, but refused to use me. And now you’re greedy for my cock. Did I get mated to a whore?” You moan in response, which draws out a low groan from Azriel. His pace quickens.

At this point your knees, wrists, and jaw are starting to ache, but you know Azrel is far from done with you. As if he can hear your complaining, he pulls you off of him with a pop. You pant, catching your breath, but it's short lived as Azriel grips your throat in his hand and hauls you to your feet.

He turns you around and bends you over the bed, not being gentle in the slightest. Your hands are still restrained behind your back, Azriel’s shadows circling tighter around your wrists. Ass in the air, you can feel your slick start to trickle down your thighs. You feel two of his fingers drag through your aching core, feeling how wet you are for him.

“All of this for me?” he asks, tone dripping with condescension. “You're so wet I think you can take me without any prep. What do you think?” you nod into the pillows, moaning and pushing yourself onto his fingers, searching for any semblance of friction. He pulls his fingers away, taking any chance of relief with him. “Words, Love,” he coos, but you know he's not being nice, not in the slightest.

“Yes, I can take you,” you breathe out, writhing under his scorching gaze.

“Good girl,” he purrs, then sheaths himself completely in you. You cry out at the stretch and the suddenness of being filled. Azriel doesn’t give you any time to adjust, though, before resuming his brutal pace.

The only place his hands touch you are your hips, and it’s driving you crazy. His grip is iron, and will definitely be leaving bruises. Your clit is throbbing, your arms ache from being restrained, your knees are growing weaker and weaker, and all you can do is take it. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, but you’ll never come from this little amount of contact, and Azriel knows that. You feel his pace grow irregular, sloppy, and then he's coming, painting your walls with his release.

He pulls out of you roughly, causing you to whimper at the sudden emptiness. “Did you think I was going to let you come?” he asks, voice lilting with amusement. When you don’t answer him, his hand comes down on your ass. Hard.

“No, I didn’t,” you cry out.

“And do you know why that is?” His voice is deathly quiet.

“Because I’ve teased you all day,” you respond quickly. He hums in conformation.

“How many of these,” he slides his hand over your stinging cheek, indicating the spank he just gave you, “do you think you deserve for your actions?”

You fight through the cloud of pleasure and arousal that currently fogs your brain to come up with a decent number. “Ten,” you respond after a minute.

“Alright, you count. We’ll say this was one, so the next is two. If you mess up, I restart. Understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” He hums again, and then his hand comes down, landing a hit to your other cheek.

“Two,” you cry. Azriel soothes the hit with one hand, his other coming between your legs to part your folds. He lands another hit, and this one comes down onto the skin of where your thigh meets your ass. “Three,” you moan, giving into his touch. The hand that's parting you teases at your entrance, collecting the mix of slick and cum onto its fingers.

SLAP!

“Four.” Your voice is growing hoarse. Azriel drags those essence-coated fingers up towards your back entrance. Before you can even anticipate what he's about to do, his hand comes down again, this time on the other side, and then he's pushing a finger into you, past the tight ring of muscle, working you loose.

You whine at the sudden intrusion, but Azriel works you open, and soon you're a moaning mess. Brain foggy from the mix of pleasure and pain, you almost forget what number you’re on, but quickly recover. “Five.”

Azriel continues to loosen you up, adding a second finger in between the seventh and eighth hits. By the tenth, you're a whimpering, boneless, drooling mess, and you haven’t even come yet. You can feel Azriel hard against the back of your thigh, once again ready to fill you.

Once Azriel believes you are loose enough, he spits into his hand, rubs it along his length, and sinks into you. You’ve had Azriel this way before, but every time, it feels brand new. The sensation is overwhelming, and by his fifth thrust into you, you’re shaking.

“Do you deserve to come?” he asks, tone still dripping with condescension.

“Yes, please Az. Please,” you beg. He only hums, adding to all your heightened emotions and feelings. His shadows are still restraining you, but are less tight than they were. It makes no difference though, because your arms are the prickly sort of numb, and you can barely feel them.

Azriel’s hand snakes around to play with your clit, the sudden contact causing you to cry out. His pace quickens, cock driving into you. His hips slap the tender skin of your rear end, only adding to the feelings.

You’re overwhelmed and on the verge of coming harder than you have in a while. All of the physical feelings - Azriel driving into you from behind, his fingers pinching and rubbing at your clit, his cum trickling down your thighs, your arms numb behind you - mixed with the emotional feelings - appreciation for your mate, his complete understanding of your needs, his patience, your love and adoration for him - all have you shaking, breathing heavy, tears springing up, and coming apart at the seams.

Azriel pulls you down, changing the angle, and the sensation is your undoing. You come at the same time Azriel does. You’re screaming his name like a prayer, tears streaming down your cheeks as sobs escape you. Pleasure racks through your body, waves upon waves building and crashing into you. The shadows release your arms as Azriel pulls out of you. You sink down into the bed fully now, curling in on yourself, shivering from the dregs of your high.

Azriel lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest. You’re still crying, but your sobs have quieted to small sniffles now. Azriel kisses you on the forehead, your temple, your cheek, your shoulder, anywhere he can reach until your breathing evens out. He pulls your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Was that okay, my love?” he asks, barely above a whisper so as not to startle you. You nod your head, afraid a sob will escape you if you dare to speak. But Azriel, as always, requires verbal confirmation.

“Yes, that was wonderful,” you choke out, and just like you thought, a sob escapes you. Azriel pulls you closer into himself, one of his wings coming around to cover you. He continues kissing you, just like before, until you're breathing evenly again.

Very rarely do you ever cry after sex, but when you do, it’s always because it was intense, both emotionally and physically. Azriel knows to just hold you and kiss you until you calm down, which could take minutes or hours, but he doesn’t care.

After what seems like hours of laying there, which just as easily could have been twenty minutes, Azriel shifts up from the bed. “Ready for a bath?” he asks, coming down to kiss away a tear still on your cheek.

“Ya, I’m ready.” Azriel picks you up bridal style and walks you into the adjoining bathing room. His shadows must have come in earlier, you thought, because the tub is already filled. It smells delicious, and the temperature is perfect as Azriel lowers you down into the water. He sheds his pants, joining you in your nakedness, and gets in behind you.

He snakes an arm around your middle and pulls you back into his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him take over.

“That’s right Love, relax,” he purrs in your ear. He washes you thoroughly, and then does the same to himself. He gets you both toweled dry, then carries you back into your bedroom and puts you to bed, curling up next to you.

“Are you done teasing me for the foreseeable future?” he asks, placing a kiss to your temple.

“Never done teasing you, Az,” you respond, before you slip into sleep.

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 18: Renewed Desire

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: In an attempt to help them, Lucien invites the sisters for a journey. The shadows always take her side. Two years later, Azriel and Nyra finally let their desires take over. (SMUT FROM THE NEXT CHAPTER)

Author's message: From this chapter onwards, I will not follow the original plot. There will be a timeskip among other changes.

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 5.5k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

After the war, the  Cauldron made Archerons were dragged into politics with Vassa’s request to draft a new treaty. 

The twins worked on the draft treaty and correspondences while Elain helped out those affected by the war in Velaris. 

And one fine day, Lucien paid a visit. Nesta answered the door. 

“We’re the only ones here. You’ll have to go to the River House for the others.” Nesta sounded dull. 

“My lady.” He bowed. “I’m here to speak to the three of you.” 

Nesta blinked and quietly made way for his entry. She closed the door and held his gaze before she turned and entered the house. “Come with me.” 

They moved towards the corridor and stopped in front of a room. Nesta knocked on the door. “We have a visitor.”

Papers shuffled, wood moved against wood, fabrics swished, and Nyra Archeron opened the door. The lightning wielder saw Lucien and exited the room, closing the door behind her. 

They reached the backyard where Elain was planting saplings. Elain immediately turned and met Lucien’s gaze. Nesta cleared her throat. “He wishes to speak to us.” 

Elain quietly set aside her tools, stood up, brushed off the dirt on her hands, and joined them. She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. “Yes?” 

The male was now definitely entranced. Probably because she was addressing him for the first time. 

“Before I begin, let me clarify that I’m not suggesting this because. . .” The autumn-born trailed away, looking at Elain. She tilted her head in a Nyra fashion. “I’d like all three of you to come with me.”

“Why?” Nesta was not even harsh. 

“A change in scenery.” 

Silence prevailed before Elain spoke. “The sunlight here is not that great.”

“What kind of change in scenery?” Nyra had only asked and Lucien had begun advertising all the different places he’d travel to after leaving Night.

“We’re not used to travelling. We’ll only burden you.” Nesta was cordial with her implied refusal but he was adamant. 

“I’m going for diplomatic discussions. It won’t be hectic. It’ll give you more ideas for the treaty drafting.” Lucien paused looking at Nyra before shooting his next question. “And wouldn’t you like to see the world?” 

The lightning wielder looked up at him, clearly intrigued. “Are you prepared for this?”

“I can only try, my lady.” He honestly answered. 

“Do you understand what this means?” Elain finally asked. 

“You are people. I know how to behave around people.” He answered, looking straight into those brown eyes. 

“That’s not what I meant.” She retorted. 

“I also understand that you’ll have your cycles. I have helped my mother with hers so there’s no need to worry on that front.” Elain simply blushed as her sense of propriety from her human life prevailed. “I’m a decent cook. And I’ll be ready for whatever you need of me.”

“You need not worry about cooking. We’re good at that.” Elain waved her hand. 

“It’s not just the cycle.” Nesta sighed. “We’re different from other fae. We’re even different from each other.” 

And Lucien remained persistent, silently meeting their gaze in turns. 

“All right.” Nyra was the first to succumb. 

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” Elain comment lightheartedly. Lucien only stared at her in disbelief.

“Fine.” Nesta agreed.

“Do you have any pending works I can assist with?”

Nesta opened her mouth to refuse but she halted. She contemplated the offer and met his gaze with more acceptance. “Actually, yes.” 

“I’ll join you after this.” Elain nodded at him and quickly returned to her work. 

“It’s nearly dinner time.” Nyra mused. 

“Shall I cook something?” Lucien offered. The twins looked at him blankly. 

“When I accepted your assistance for pending works, it was not for household chores.” Nesta wondered why he would even offer to cook for them right now. 

“We can dine outside.” Nyra suggested.

“Eula’s.” Elain called from the distance. 

“Eula’s, it is.” Nyra looked at the sky, its pink and violet hues bringing the night. 

“Come with me, Lucien.” Nesta began. “I’d like your opinion on something.” The flame wielders headed inside. 

Nyra continued to stare at the sky as she reached Elain. “Does his presence bother you?” 

“Quite the opposite.” Elain whispered. “Is it the bond or is it him that calms me?”

“Maybe, you’ll know soon.” Nyra walked away. 

An hour later, they had dressed and departed. Eula’s was a fifteen minute walk. Many people greeted Elain, having interacted during her daily visits to the city. Neither twin interacted with anyone. Lucien smiled politely at a few familiar faces. They reached Eula’s nearly half an hour later. 

****

The shadowsinger was already sitting on the roof of the building opposite the one where Eula’s was. He’d seen Nyra as she walked with her sisters and that redheaded bastard. 

Green silk wrapped her body and flowed with her every movement. Hair in a loose bun with curls escaping near her ears. 

When was this female ever going to let him have his senses? 

Every single time he saw her, she consumed him wholly. 

He wanted to be near her, touch her, kiss her, and whisper sweet things to her. 

Could she ever give him a moment to catch his breath?

And then he remembered.

She was going to leave. 

His heart cracked. 

And the shadows were wailing. 

But if this is what was needed. If this is what she needed to regain her spirits. He’d support her. 

****

Azriel winnowed in front of the townhouse. He was nervous. He felt pathetic. Maybe, he should’ve come after a while. They’d only just returned from dinner. 

As soon as his shadows were about to take him away, the door opened. 

Nyra watched him with wide eyes and took a step outside. The shadows stopped and let him be. More shadows were around her wrist.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

This beautiful creature, brilliant and full of wonders. What had he ever done to deserve a mating bond with her? 

“Were you leaving?” She whispered. 

“Yes.”

“And now?”

“I want to stay.” 

That moment filled with tenderness and intimacy they shared before the High Lords’ meet bloomed again. From when she’d kissed the corner of his lips. 

“Come in.” She led Azriel to the office she’d taken over and he closed the door behind him. 

Silence prevailed as she sat on her desk, now empty of all the papers and pens. Nyra looked at her hands. “I’m leaving.”

“I know.” 

She looked up at him.

“They told me.” She nodded and looked at the black snakes crawling around her fingers.

Azriel did not know what to say. He wanted her to stay but if this is what she wanted then how could he say otherwise? 

What if this is what she needed? A change? 

Change helped him a lot. He learned how to fly, cook, sew, kill, maim, and so much more. Perhaps he’d changed for the better and worse. 

The bond between them thrummed silently, a reminder of life. The storms in her mind were chaotic.

He walked forward and stopped two steps away from her. “May I?”

“What are you asking?”

“To touch you.” He heard her breath hitch. She nodded.

“Words, Nyra.”

She looked at him, eyes gleaming. “Yes.” 

Azriel wrapped her in a hug, his entire frame covering her like a shield against the world. There was no one but them. 

Nyra wrapped her hands around his torso. 

“Be safe.” He felt her nod against his chest. “Be happy.” Another nod. “Write to me.” She raised her chin, rested it against his chest,  and looked up at him. 

Gods fucking damn this world. 

She was too fucking adorable like this. 

He never wanted to let go.

“You’ll write to me too?” She whispered. 

And he smiled. “I’ll write to you too. But I may delay when I’m on a mission.”

“Mhm.” 

Azriel brushed the hair away from her forehead and kissed her there. 

“Have you had dinner?” She asked. 

Azriel went rigid. “No.” 

“Shall I prepare something then?” He was blank for all but a second before he began panicking. The shadows began cheering and panicking. 

She’s accepting? No, she wasn’t. 

She’s only offering food. She doesn’t know. Exactly. 

Of course, she doesn’t know. Because he was a fucking coward, that’s why.

Should we apply for leave? No!

A month? A month? Why were these idiots going overboard? 

Master hasn’t had sex in fifty two years. Owing to Amarnatha’s reign and the overload of work before his mating bond with Nyra snapped. 

He’s become a beacon of celibacy.

Does master remember how to bed a woman? What? 

How to please our mistress? What even? 

He’s going to embarrass us. What in the everloving fuck?

“Have you had dinner?” Azriel managed to ask between his shadows’ commentary. 

“Yes. I can cook-”

“I’ll eat at the House. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense.” She leaned back to look at him properly. Nyra seemed mad at how he spoke about himself. “You’re not a bother.”

A silence settled between them. He played with the baby hairs on her forehead and the side of her ears and Nyra enjoyed it as she felt ticklish. 

“How are your nightmares?” She asked. His hand near her ear stopped playing with her ear and dropped to her shoulder. 

“Manageable.” He was lying. 

“And the headaches?” 

“Tolerable.” Another lie. 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“Lying is a part of my job description. I’m famously good at it.” Azriel tried to lighten the mood with an awkward smile. She sees through you.

“Unbelieve.” She was playing with his hair when she traced his ears. He loved her touch. He wanted more of it. “Your ears remind me of when I was human.”

“Bad memories?” 

“Bad and good.” She seemed to be lost as she traced the curve of his ear. Azriel sighed, her touch a reminder that the world was worth something. 

She was still wearing that green silk. Her neck craned to look at his face and he only wanted to kiss her. This was unbearable. 

“I’ll take your leave now.” He kissed her left hand and let the shadows take him away even as she called his name. 

****

The next day right before dawn, Rhysand stood at a distance from the townhouse with Lucien. “Day Court?”

“Yes, I’ve received a welcoming reply for our arrival.” 

Rhysand wondered when Lucien would discover his paternity. Politics was such a twisted thing and he only pitied the male who was unaware he’d be inevitably dragged into it even more than he already was. “If anything happens-”

“I know. You’ll slit my throat.”

“I was going to tell you to call out for me. If you’re anywhere in the Middle, then contact might be difficult so be prepared for greater risks.”

“Why would we go to the Middle?” Lucien looked at him oddly. 

“You’ll find that your mate is curious about plant life in the Middle. The twins may be drawn towards the monsters.”

“The Weaver?” 

“We won the war but three ancient gods are now free.” The twin gods and Bryaxis were released for war and were now free to roam the lands even though recent reports suggested their presence in the Middle. 

“What if the monsters are drawn to them?” 

“Elain’s power shouldn’t. The twins will.” Rhysand sighed. “I’ll ask Azriel.” He closed his eyes and sighed. His power thrummed and the next minute, the Spymaster joined them from a swirl of shadows. 

“What?” 

“Brooding already, brother? The sun hasn’t even risen.” Rhysand smirked. 

“And what are you doing here?” Azriel coldly asked, turning towards a larger fae cloaked in greying rags. 

The Suriel grinned, displaying its sharp teeth. Its face turned to the townhouse standing at a distance. 

Nyra Archeron appeared at the balcony in a nightdress and a robe, stretching her arms. And then she turned to look straight at Azriel. 

His breath hitched. If he could ever wake up to that sight, embracing that beautiful female, he’d count himself blessed. 

“Blessed you are indeed, shadowsinger.” The Suriel’s ominous voice spoke. “And even more blessed you will be.” The wind took those words and carried them away to the world. 

The Suriel took a step only to see a flash of lightning as Nyra emerged. It grinned and folded in the middle, a casual bow. “Greetings to the Sovereign of the Skies.” 

Azriel’s shadows were with her, twirling around her hands and hair and the hem of her nightdress.

“Your robe looks fantastic, Conqueror of the Cauldron.”

At that comment, the shadows slashed the Suriel, dismembering a leg. It kneeled with the other and cackled. As though it had been misted, the ghastly creature disappeared. 

Azriel walked over to her. The shadows had produced a cloak which materialised on her shoulders. They wrapped her up nicely in it, tying all the knots for her. 

Nyra frowned at him, probably for fleeing like that last night. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the cloak. Fur tickled her cheeks and she removed her face. The cold made her blush. “Rhys? Lucien?”

“Hello, Nyra.”

“Good morning.”

“Hello, hello. Good morning.” She was unusually cheerful for someone who’d frowned at him. 

Why did you run away? Here we go. Again. When were they going to stop reprimanding him like a child?

She thinks you rejected her. What?

You should listen to her when she speaks. 

Oh fucking fuck. He didn’t. Azriel could never reject her. He would never dare. 

“You’re in a good mood.” Rhys remarked fondly, a tone Azriel remembered had been reserved for Maia and now, Nyra.

“Nesta made hot chocolate. And none of us are having nightmares these days.” 

“And you’re still sleepy.” Lucien eased into the conversation. Azriel wondered if last night’s dinner had increased the familiarity between him and the sisters. 

“It’s winter.” She pouted. Azriel would have a heart attack any time soon if she remained that adorable. “I’d rather be in bed than anywhere else.” 

“We’re to leave soon. I hope you haven’t forgotten.” Lucien reminded. They were going to leave this afternoon. The Day Court was the first destination. 

“I remember.” And she was going to leave thinking he’d rejected her. But she was just too pretty for him to stay in her presence and remain sane. 

Azriel took a step forward and she immediately glared at him and then turned to Rhys. “I need to freshen up. Meet you later?”

“We’ll meet you after breakfast.” Rhysand assured. 

****

Azriel, being his calm, stoic self with no ability to communicate the deepest of his feelings, watched quietly as Nyra and her sisters left with Lucien. She spared him a withering glance before the party winnowed away. 

Once they left, the shadows began screaming. You better write to her, you stupid male. 

Beg for her forgiveness. 

You’re a grown adult. Miscommunication at this age is disgusting. For a Spymaster, he had fucked up in communicating vital information to his mate. 

Get your shit together before someone else sweeps her away. 

There’s no shortage of males or females who’d want her attention and affection. 

They wouldn’t shut up. They kept on screaming and yelling so much that he winnowed away to his mother’s house for comfort, knowing they’d behave around her. 

****

Two years later. 

Azriel knew he had fucked up. He was the one who’d proposed the idea of writing and he was also the one who’d stopped correspondence. 

Despite Nyra being upset with him, they’d written to each other and then there was a mission that lasted too long. 

He assumed that a pause warranted an explanation but his draft letters were unsatisfactory and he ended up not sending a letter or replying to hers. He even disappeared when she visited. 

It had been nearly four months since they stopped corresponding and two years since she’d left Velaris. 

Azriel couldn’t do this. He couldn’t live without seeing her, or talking to her, or feeling her. He wanted to lose his senses to her. 

He was also scared. 

Because she was his equal and identical in one particular aspect—they did not forgive or forget as evinced by how she’d killed her mother. And this much might have been enough for her to consider him a traitor. 

And with fear and need, he finally showed up at the Archeron residence with her favourite cheesecake. 

****

The living room of the manor was a scene from a horror novel. Probably because Nesta was glaring at Azriel from the armchair she had seated herself on. 

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. He’d been so afraid of Nyra’s reaction that he’d forgotten that Nesta Archeron was a terrifying female. 

“I hope you’ve made arrangements for your funeral.” She was frosty one moment and then gave him an overly cheerful smile. “I’m looking forward to that.” 

Nesta was really looking forward to his death. Surely, Nyra was not that harsh. Right? 

The door opened loudly and Nyra marched in, eager and bright as she called her twin. “Nesta, there’s. . .” 

She was radiant in silver, he wanted to kneel and beg for everything. 

His heartbeat felt heavy, the organ ready to break through his ribs. His mouth parted and throat dried and he did not say anything. He had no words no matter how many times he’d rehearsed his apology. 

And then Nyra noticed Azriel, who stood up instantly. He was nervous and anxious and so many things but she simply dismissed his existence and started talking to Nesta about a new novel. 

The twins chatted for not more than two minutes before promising to resume the conversation later. Nyra turned on her heel and headed towards the door when her name escaped his lips. 

“Who are you?” She sounded like she’d met an unpleasant creature and she’d rather be anywhere else. 

The shadowsinger flinched. “It’s me. Azriel.”

“Come to think of it. I knew someone by that name.” Thunder roared outside. “That Azriel who did not write for four months?” 

“I-”

“Or was it that Azriel who did not bother showing his face for the past year?” Oh, she was so gloriously merciless. 

“Nyra. .”

“I thought he was dead.” She smiled so sweetly and Azriel heard Nesta snort. “Since he did not visit or write.”

“I’m alive, Nyra.” He moved closer.

“Shall I rectify that?” Lightning crackled at her fingertips as she raised her hand. 

“Please. .” It was foolish to avoid our precious mistress. 

She spared him nothing before walking away. Azriel followed her. “Nyra. Please. Just listen to me.” 

Nyra simply walked as if he didn’t exist and entered her room. He followed and caught her wrist. When she turned back, Azriel was greeted with indifference. 

“I had a mission that lasted a month and I wrote letters and never sent them because I didn’t think any of them was adequate enough reply and by the time I wrote a decent letter, five months had passed and I’d already heard that you were furious and I-ow!” 

Nyra smacked his arm, interrupting his rant. “What’s the point of writing letters if you can’t be bothered to send them?” 

Azriel took a step back in response to her advancing towards him. He moved around the bed only to be chased after. She was furious. “You could’ve just visited.” 

“I had another mission.” 

“That’s what letters are for.” She grabbed a bottle of something and threw it at him. The shadows caught it and gently set it down where it was. “No, don’t protect him.” She took a pen. “Let him feel everything.” 

“Nyra, please.”

“You fucking idiot!” The pen hit him. He caught the empty vase. Clearly, the shadows were siding with her. And then she grabbed a dagger. “You and your stupidity warrants everything I throw at you.” Exactly!

“Sweetheart, that’s a dagger.” Azriel only processed the sound of the weapon landing on the wooden column behind him. His wings dropped. 

“You repeat this again and I won’t miss.” Gods, she was so beautiful—all feral and angry at him. At him. 

Oh, this marvellous female. 

He wanted to drown in her.

And she picked up a sword. Where did she even get that from? We gave it to her. 

“Nyra.” And his every call of her name was a prayer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry?” The apology did not have the intended effect. Lightning coursed from her palm to the sword. “How dare you throw your flimsy apologies at me after no contact for months?” 

“I know. Let me-”

“Months. Months! And you think you deserve to be pardoned?” Thunder roared like a chained beast demanding freedom.

“My drafts were not good enough.” 

“I did not want perfection from your letters, I wanted you.” Nyra threw the sword away and looked around for something else to throw at him. “I wanted to know if you were alive, breathing, healthy, and you delivered nothing.” She removed her slipper and aimed for his face. Azriel dodged it in time. 

And she stopped pacing around, stopped picking up things. Nyra simply stopped and Azriel travelled through the shadows in front of her and took her in his arms. 

“You were worried about me?” Azriel asked while praying silently.

Nyra struggled against his grip. “How dare you question that? You absolute-”

“I won’t. I won’t. I swear I won’t.” He hugged her tighter. Nyra began to relax. The shadows gently pried the sword from her hand. 

Azriel picked her up and deposited her on the table. He let go of her but his hands remained on either side of her, supporting himself and cornering her so she wouldn’t escape. 

Azriel leaned forward and brushed their noses against each other. 

A soft feeling came to life. 

The same as what bloomed back when they’d shared a moment before Azriel departed for the High Lords’ Meet two years ago. Before Nyra left Velaris.

The scales began leaning towards balance as Azriel and Nyra breathed against each other. 

Desire renewed itself and buried affections began sprouting. 

Azriel saw her eyelashes and her cheeks glowing golden under the lights. She was breathing heavily after her outburst as she watched her hands play with a strap on his leathers. And he was desperate to meet her gaze. 

He placed his hand on her shoulder and let the thumb graze her collarbone. The hand ascended to her neck and stayed there while his thumb traced her chin and pushed it upward so that she would look at him. Midnight blue greeted him gently. 

“Inconsiderate ass.” She mumbled. The warmth was returning to her and Azriel was relieved. 

The shadows carefully floated over to her and one brave tendril tugged at her finger. She looked at it and turned her hand to show her palm as a sign of her consent. More shadows appeared. The remaining ones slowly brought to her many crumpled papers, all of it raining in the room. 

All the drafts master wrote for you. 

And for the first time, Nyra looked at the shadows in shock. Because she could hear them. 

“These are his drafts?” She slowly looked around her.

Yes, drafts from the very first letter he wrote to you. He thought we threw it away but we saved. . . You can hear us? 

“Yes.” She replied. And she heard them cheering like a little band of children. 

And in the middle of it all stood Azriel, surprised that she could hear them. 

Could you try to speak to us from your mind? That’s how our tactless master communicates with us? They sounded all too eager to talk to Nyra.

Like this? And when Nyra succeeded, they cheered again. She smiled at the dark wisps as they gently pushed her towards the dining table. 

We’ve got cheesecake for you, mistress. And from a pocket of shadows, the cheesecake Azriel had purchased earlier appeared. 

Thank you. She was happy. 

I was the one who bought it. Azriel deadpanned. 

Azriel? Nyra’s voice in his mind had him flustered. 

We apologise on behalf of our master. He can be an idiot at times. The shadows easily intervened. 

Azriel immediately raised his mental shields before contemplating. The mating bond now seemed stronger. Did that have anything to do with Nyra being able to hear the shadows? 

Yes. He’s an idiot. Nyra replied dryly. What have you lot been up to? Surely not brooding by his side. She was utterly happy while addressing the shadows. 

We missed you. Azriel was convinced the bastards were trying to flirt with her. And our master was the only one brooding because he was too afraid to send you letters. 

Your master is an established idiot. 

That he is. The woe to belong to someone as grumpy as he. The shadows had now begun bitching about him, right under his nose. He’s insufferable when he writes letters to you, mistress. His attention to detail is agonising. 

“Why are you troubling them?” She watched him with an easy smile but his gaze had changed. It was heated and all the lightheartedness thawed, making room for something heavier. 

“May I?” His voice was deeper than it usually was and Azriel was obviously looking at her lips. Nyra wanted this. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted this two years ago and even now. How had things not changed?

“Yes.” Her consent was probably the most commemorative thing that had ever happened in his life. Azriel brought his other hand down from her neck which pulled her closer by the hip. 

Their lips were close. Still so close and still not touching. So when Nyra leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss, leaned back, and looked up at him intently, Azriel moved and devoured her.  

Nyra loved his mouth on hers, his hand on the back of her neck. Absolutely enjoyed him taking control and demanding every bit of her. 

Her head leaned back and even further and Azriel grabbed it before it hit the wall. When he moved a little away from her, leaving her gasping after their kiss, Azriel looked like he had every intention to make her moan. 

“What. . .” She rasped, hauling air inside her like he was. 

“Hold on to me.” Because he was not going to accept her grabbing anything other than him—not the table, not the sheets, it had to be him. 

Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck, fingers combing his hair, nails grazing his scalp inducing a soothing sensation. “Good girl.” 

His mouth moved to her jaw and descended to her neck, sucking harshly. She had such supple skin, he never wanted to take his mouth off her. 

“Beautiful.” He looked up at her. She was flushed and breathless. Her hair messier than before, the straps of her gown removed from her shoulder, two purple marks on her neck and collarbone. And the sight of her hurt so deliciously. 

“Tell me I can touch you more.” Azriel was begging now. “Tell me I can undress you.” 

Nyra might’ve fainted right then. Or maybe she wanted him to make her faint. The shadows were too much. Felt too good with their fluttery touches. 

She’d had sex before but . . what was this? This was new. 

Was it because he was her friend? 

Because she already found him attractive? 

Because she’d already been half way in love with him? 

“Yes.” Her hand cupping his jaw moved and she touched his lips with her thumb. Nyra leaned in and kissed him, relishing in the slow start and their passionate progress.

Her skirts were now a bother, forming layers  between them. And her slippers, why were they not off? One of them was stubbornly dangling off her feet. And then she felt the cool touch of the shadows remove her slippers and slide up her legs. 

“Do the shadows. . .” She broke the kiss and looked up at him. “Do they always participate?”

“They are?” He looked dumbfounded. 

“They’re teasing my legs.” 

Azriel spared the dark tendrils a glance, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a first.” He mumbled to himself. 

Nyra did not understand why this new piece of information made her feel special. And she moaned, head leaning back and closing her eyes. They’d pinched her inner thigh. And Azriel eagerly bit her neck. 

Her breathing was already heavy and stuttered. And Nyra wanted to fall, so down. But Azriel squeezed her waist. She opened her eyes to see this beautiful male starving for her, waiting to feast. 

“Bed?” Nyra nodded quickly. He scooped her up, hoping he’d last long enough to give her pleasure. 

It had been quite some time since he last had sex. Nearly fifty two years. Forty nine something years busy worrying about Rhys and plotting to get him back and around two years since the mating bond. 

Restrain me if I’m too rough. Obey her without question or complaint. Because if he was going to do this, he had to ensure a safeguard for her. 

Yes, master. The shadows solemnly vowed. 

This was everything he wanted. Nyra in his arms and his mouth on her. And he would burst because this female was indescribably endearing. Her hand came to his shoulders and then on his chest. 

“Off.” She whispered against his lips. “Take it off.” 

Azriel tapped a siphon and the leathers on his upper body dematerialised. He removed his siphon-attached gloves and let the shadows set them down. He felt his boots unbuckle as the shadows helped him out of it. 

Nyra felt the cotton of her sheets on her palms as she was set down by the side of the bed. Azriel leaned back and stood straight. Impatient at his own shadows for taking long, he yanked the boots from his legs and threw them away. 

Meanwhile, Nyra gathered her hair and brought it forward from one side. The shadows immediately swarmed over to unzip the dress and pulled it down, helping her out of it. 

Azriel felt tortured at heaven’s doorstep. Nyra in black made him want to kneel. 

His hands went to his belt and unbuckled it with speed and ease. Unbuttoning his pants and letting the shadows pull them down immediately while he moved closer. His undershorts remained. 

“Are you sure?” He placed a hand on her cheek. 

Nyra was looking at him, his body. She placed a hand on his chest, on the scar left behind by Jurian’s spear. A reminder of the day her sisters were Made into fae. She stood up and kissed the scar. 

She looked up at him coyly. “Do I need to write a letter that you might not answer?” 

Azriel raised his hand to the back of her throat and ascended to tangle his fingers on her hair. Azriel pulled her soft, thick hair and her gasps were beautiful. 

“I’ll write you as many letters as you want. For now, I’d show you all that cannot be written.” 

Nyra smiled, amused at that. “There are smutty books. Many things are written in those.” 

Azriel smiled faintly. “Not for us.” He kissed her ear. “We’re real.” He whispered. 

Nyra’s knees weakened. And she sat on the bed as if she’d been dropped. And he was on his knees, parting her legs. 

She leaned back, supporting her body with her elbows and watched his kiss and lick and suck her thighs. 

She felt herself become more sensitive as each second passed. Her back felt the cold of the sheets. Goosebumps were all over her hands and upper body. Her legs were warm and wherever Azriel placed his mouth, Nyra felt heat. 

And she could feel her damp underwear sticking to her. “Stop teasing.” 

“Patience is a virtue.” He was so close. He kissed her inner thigh. Azriel had half a mind to rest his head against that incredibly soft thigh. Maybe he’d finally get some good sleep. 

“I’m not feeling particularly virtuous right now.” To know that she desired him brought him peace and then his own desire rattled that peace.

“As if I’m any better.” Azriel chuckled faintly. And he bit her inner thigh once, pulled the fabric of her underwear aside and licked. 

Nyra wanted to breathe. She really did. But Azriel was gently licking her as if he were savouring her taste. It was the first time but she would probably cry or scream if he kept on teasing her anymore. 

Heat filled her as she met his gaze. Breathing had become a legitimate task because she couldn’t seem to do it unconsciously.

His hands which remained on her inner thighs moved. He now held her thighs from below and lifted it. With no difficulty, he’d placed her legs on his shoulders. 

The shadows snipped her panties and disposed of it, leaving behind their cool touch. And Azriel whispered. “Lie down, Nyra. And take all of me.”

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @byunniebaekhyunnie @fhgsvbnh @halo-mystic

[illyrianbitch]

do you think prythian has stuff like met gala or paparazzi or ice rinks and sports competitions and people getting into bar fights, basically pop culture?

lord i fuckin hope so. the met gala would be dominated by the vanserra family and co (helion included)

[ranaissingle]

Whispers and Melodies

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: She has heard a deep melodic voice speaking to her from a far away place for decades. Anything from snippets of a longer conversation to roars that shook the very earth she walked on.

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

A cup of tea sat cooling on the window sill of a small cottage on the outskirts of the Day Court. The quaint home overlooked a large river delta with roiling waters whose waves flowed into an ocean only a stone's throw away. Inside the cottage sat a girl gazing into the night sky while she forgot all of the day's troubles. 

The healer had spent the entire day tending to patients from the village near her cottage. It was a quaint town whose community was close-knit and small. It had taken the townspeople a while to grow accustomed to her but as the years had come and gone, they had opened up to each other. Her skills as a healer also aided in this endeavor. But despite how much she enjoyed her dealings with the townspeople, her favorite part of her job was the research that it allowed. At the end of a hard day of treating her patients, she could lock herself up in her office and lose herself in the formulas and ratios she tested in her compounds. 

Y/N padded over to her small kitchen, mug in hand, and placed it into her sink before walking toward her research room and locking the door behind her.

She always thought of her research room as a safe haven. The vials full of various substances that she had been testing littered her desk along with her carefully taken notes about the contents and phase changes of each substance on her log book. Her most recent project had been to synthesize some type of blood clotting or replenishing potion that would allow her to administer it to a patient who was more likely to die of blood loss before she even had the chance to solve any of their injuries. A potion like this would allow her ample time to stitch up any wound or brew some other cure for poisons and the like. 

Her current issue consisted of not being able to stabilize the potion for long-term storage. The fennel root and crushed carrowfish shell she’d added seemed to be slowly decomposing each other which made the potion essentially useless after more than 4 days of storage. The trials she was running right now attempted to add some honey which slowed the reaction process as well as introduced some antimicrobial properties to the potion. 

Y/N quickly jotted down the physical changes in appearance and consistency of each of the test tubes with varying amounts of honey. Each testing glass contained more honey than the last. Whichever combination yielded the best preservation and overall effectiveness is the ratio that she would begin perfecting. 

Y/N stayed in her laboratory until she felt her eyes begin to strain and her feet start to ache. She carefully placed all of her measuring tools and weights back onto her working table before she exited the room and made her way to the front door of her cottage. She undid all 3 locks and tugged the large oak door open with both her hands. 

In the distance, she saw a figure. A male it seemed; lying on the ground as the ocean lapped at his skin and crusted it in dried salt. The setting sun gleamed against him and warmed his pale skin in a sheen of gold that she thought suited him much more than the sickly pallor he seemed to have. Most people tended to steer clear of her section of the beach out of some deeply engrained paranoia of outsiders. But this male seemed to have missed that particular message.

Rhysand had known he had been fooled the moment he stepped into the ballroom on that fateful day. Amaranth had promised a ball in celebration of the many alliances she had made as well as an apology to those she had wronged. Rhysand had gone to the ball purely for formalities' sake. He had always loathed these types of false pretenses that the upper echelon of fae had always insisted on perpetuating. Nonetheless, he had dragged himself out of his court that afternoon and appeared at this ball. His own cowardice to refuse Amarantha’s invitation had resulted in 50 years of extortion, rape, and violence that despite his centuries of experience, he could not seem to shake the black cloud that it had cast over him. 

Feyre being his mate was not something he had seen coming nor was it something he wanted. Tamlin would treat her well, she cared for all of his people and he would care for Feyre Rhys was sure. Despite his freedom, Rhysand could not bring himself to go to his home in Velaris. His family was likely waiting for him to return but they would all know exactly what had happened to him as soon as he stepped in the door. He did not wish to deal with their horrified faces and pitying looks once they found out. So instead, he wandered. 

He wandered around lands both Night Court and Day. He walked and flew so far that he ended up somewhere on a coastline. Rhys has no idea where he had landed but he didn't seem to care that he was likely lost. So as the sun set, he continued a slow walk along the cliffside coast and eventually down onto the sandy beaches. The sun sunk further into the horizon leaving only the gleaming light of a cottage in the far-off distance. As Rhys drew closer, he noticed a crop garden with some vegetables and herbs growing on the plot off to the side of the house and a water well located up a hill. Rhysand was tired. He was tired of walking, of flying, of breathing even. He just wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep on a soft bed and not have to think about anything at all, not be worried that one wrong move would result in the death of everyone he had ever loved. So he made his way closer to the cottage before sitting on the wet sand closest to the water and stretching out his long legs. The water lapped at his feet and calves, almost as if it was slowly pulling away all the tension that wound itself in his legs. He stared out at the ocean for what seemed like an eternity. Rhysand got lost in the repetitive movements of the water and the slowly setting sun in the distance casting beautiful colors on the waters and sand. 

When he eventually woke up from what felt like an eternity of slumber, he was not nestled in the sand as he had expected. Instead, he was cushioned underneath with quilts and pillows, and on top of him lay thick blankets to combat the morning chill that often accompanied this time of the year. The room itself looked lived in, to say the least. Canvas’ and embroidery projects were pinned to the wall in various positions. Everything from people to landscaping were inscribed into the wall. Pages that appeared to be ripped out of books with certain lines underlined also adorned the cedarwood walls. The entire room smelled of something woody and calm that Rhysand couldn't quite a place. He stretched up from his lying position and slowly removed the layers of quilts and blankets from him. His legs felt sore and ached from the hours of walking he had done the day before. He tried to stretch his wing muscles but they also ached from their overuse. He hadn't flown in decades, yet he had taken to the sky’s as soon as he could as if he had never left the great blue expanse. He now felt his lack of practice as he tried to rotate his shoulders and ease the aches that had rooted themselves in his back. 

A shuffle from outside the door had Rhysand snapping his neck towards the door. He slowly lifted himself off the bed, careful to make sure none of the wooden beams snapped. He paced towards the door and stuck his ear against the wood grain to listen for any further movements. He was listening to the slicing of metal that would indicate a weapon the characteristic heavy footfalls that usually indicated a warrior of some capacity. Instead, he heard sharp cutting noises blunted by a wooden board, the shuffle of lithe feet, and the soft humming of a female. 

Hello everyone! It has been too long! So many things have happened in the last months and I can't wait to get back into the groove of posting multiple-part stories.

[captainsophiestark]

To The Stars

Rhysand x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: With war on the horizon, Rhys and his mate have been busier than should be possible, with almost no time to even see each other. But sometimes, to stay sane, you have to make time.

Word Count: 1,064

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I squinted at the words on the paper in front of me, trying to get them to stop blurring. My eyes burned, and my head ached, and before I knew it, I was face down on the desk.

Not the first time it had happened to me, and probably not the last. But the Night Court was basically the only court who had our shit together and stood a chance at stopping Hybern, which meant it was on me and the rest of the Inner Circle to organize what we needed to organize to save the world as we knew it. That tended to lead to a lot of exhaustion.

Even worse, it had left me no time to see my mate, Rhysand, as we were both running around like maniacs, often in different directions. His face floated across my subconscious as I fought to stay awake despite my body begging me to rest my eyes and stay down on the desk. I thought I'd finally lost the battle when I heard his voice, calling my name in his smooth, soothing voice that had come to feel like home. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder, and realized this wasn't an exhaustion-induced dream.

I groaned, slowly dragging myself back into a sitting position as I blinked at Rhys through bleary eyes. He hardly looked better than me, with dark bags under his eyes. Still, he pulled a soft smile onto his face when he looked at me.

"You look about as tired as I feel," he said, voice a little more gravelly than usual. I huffed a sigh.

"I'm absolutely exhausted. But we have to do what it takes to have a chance at winning this war."

"We do."

The silence hung between us for a moment, the massive weight we carried together resting heavily on our shoulders. Then Rhys, my wonderful mate, sighed and gave me a tired smile, running his hand along my cheek.

"Come outside with me."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but his face didn't change. I held his stare, but when his calm expression didn't crack with even a hint of what he was up to, I finally gave in with a sigh of my own.

"Fine. But only because I love you so much. If anyone else was asking me to accompany them for mysterious reasons rather than wading through these papers or sleeping, I would tell them to fuck right off."

"I'll make sure to remember how lucky I am to be met with a different response."

I snorted, at myself more than him, and he shot me a small smile as I got to my feet. He held out a hand and led me out of our bedroom and up the stairs to the roof.

"If we had even a single extra second to string together, I would've told you to close your eyes first," Rhys said, a smile in his voice from ahead of me. I raised an eyebrow, more curious than ever as he stepped out onto the roof of the Velaris townhouse and I followed after him.

Rhysand stared at me with a massive grin on his face, holding his arms out slightly on either side in a 'ta-da' gesture. I looked just past him to find a nest of blankets assembled on the roof, with glasses of sparkling wine waiting for us. A small fire roared in a firepit that hadn't been there the last time I'd checked.

"We have to rest at some point, or so I've been told by every other member of our court. And if I have to take a break, I'd much prefer to take it with you."

I smiled, none of the tiredness leaving me but most of the tension draining away. I crossed the short distance between me and my mate, wrapping my arms around him tightly and breathing in his scent. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, the soft thud mixing with the crackling fire, and for just a moment everything was right with the world.

"How did I get so lucky as to find you?" I asked, a soft smile on my face as I at last pulled back to look at Rhys. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in until his lips were just a breath away from mine.

"I wonder the same thing, how we could be so lucky to find each other, almost every day that I walk this world," he murmured. My heart swelled, and a heartbeat later Rhys closed the distance between us. I lost myself in his embrace and his soft, tender kiss.

We stayed locked together for a few long moments, then finally, reluctantly, I pulled back. Rhys watched me like a hawk, but I just gave him a little smile.

"We'll have time for that after wine and stargazing," I promised. He sighed, playing it up a little, even as he leaned back.

"I suppose it would be a shame to let it all go to waste."

I winked and gave him one last peck on the cheek, then led him over to the pile of blankets. The two of us made ourselves comfortable, snuggling into the warmth together and staring up at the crystal clear night sky. I sighed, the light from the stars shining out through the darkness above.

"This is beautiful," I murmured. Rhys handed me a glass, which I took, my eyes never leaving the night sky above.

"It really is. It helps, to look at this. To look at Velaris. And you. To... remember what we're fighting for."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

I finally tore my eyes away from the starlight overhead to look at my mate, meeting his sparkling eyes. I would go to the absolute ends of the world for him, and I knew he would do the same for me. The road ahead would be hard, against Hybern and the other courts, but how could anything hope to stand against us? Especially when we had the rest of our friends behind us, too.

"To the stars who listen," he said, lifting his glass to mine with a half-smile. I returned the gesture, the soft clink of the glasses ringing out in the night.

"And the dreams that are answered."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[violetasteracademic]

Hi hello! She's here she's alive! Happy New Year, please enjoy some Nessian

Chapter Two: I Pushed Each Boulder Up the Hill (Alternate Title: Fuck You Tomas)

Summary:

Nesta tries not to let the surprise of Cassian's presence at work throw her off balance and focus.

Content Warning: Explicit on page depiction of attempted SA in the workplace

Notes: Thank you to @foundress0fnothing, @rosanna-writer, and @nikachansstuff for such wildly thoughtful and valuable beta reads. I cherish you!

Read chapter two of The Albatross on ao3 here

*note: If you are reading all three stories, The Albatross is best read after chapter three of the Manuscript, found here. But this is not necessary or required, so please enjoy either way!

Preview:

He watched me for a few moments, gaze heavy. His eyes churned with the look that made me feel like he was reading my user manual. "So this is how it's gonna be between us?" he asked, more quietly than he had spoken thus far. "You hate me now for a mistake I never would have made had I known who you were?"

I tried not to let it bother me that he continued to reiterate how much he regretted last night. Especially when I left our encounter so turned on, I had a record-breaking session with my vibrator. I steeled my spine and tried not to let an inch of emotion show on my face.

"I never said I hated you."

Cassian chuckled in that low rumble that scraped down my spine. "Not verbally, no. But with your facial expressions, body language, tone of voice, and murderous intent in your eyes..." He raised a brow, waiting for me to argue or deny it. "Should I go on?"

"That's just how I look," I said curtly.

His voice dropped an octave. "It wasn't how you looked any time you were speaking to Rhys."

I shifted in my seat. Was he jealous that I was nicer to the literal owner of the hospital than I was to him? "I didn't realize you were watching me so closely."

"I told you," he leaned in, woodsmoke and leather cologne invading my system like a drug. "I'm good at reading people."

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello everything is fine?

I'd like to make a request to Rhysand, I imagine something, where the reader is having a girls' night out, and the girls start talking about how Rhys loves the reader and stuff, and whenever the reader needs him, even if it's a small thing , and he is busy, he will always help the reader, and the reader, even though she knows this is true, denies it to the point of death, so the girls force her to create a false scenario, where the reader is in danger or has been hurt and for her to call Rhys

So, do the girls tell you how long it takes for it to arrive? and the reader dying to apologize for scaring Rhys and him trying to reassure her?

Panic.

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings; none I think.

Not a night out but a girls night nonetheless. If you would like me to write another one with a night out please tell me and I will try to make another one. I just had this idea and I thought it fitted your request!

The crackling noise of the fire soothed you and you watched your friends tease each other and laugh. You smiled and leaned back, a glass of wine in your hand as you watched them tease Nesta about her relationship with Cassian.Mor had suggested a girls’ night so that’s how you all ended up here; in the living room of the house of wind, sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. Amusement filled your eyes as Nesta made a vulgar gesture to Feyre.

“Oh don’t look at us like that” Nesta said with a smirk “Rhysand is completely smitten with you”

“Yes” Mor exclaimed “and he babies you all the time”

“No he doesn’t” you gasped.

“Yeah right, Rhys I can’t reach the mug, he rushes in gives you the mug and the next day all the cabinets are removed and placed again lower” Nesta scoffed.

“And if I remember correctly when this happened he left a meeting with all the high lords to reach that mug” Feyre added.

“Oh come on it was an one time thing… it didn’t mean anything.” You groaned.

“Just admit that Rhys babies you and we will stop” Mor exclaimed.

“No because it’s not true.” You almost screamed.

“Okay then we will test it” Nesta announced.

You tried to protest but Mor cut you off

“Yeah and if you are right then we won’t tease you again about your relationship with Rhys… but if you are wrong you will have to give us some bottles of wine from his personal collection”

You gaped at them, you didn’t have a choice, if you backed off it would be the same as admitting they are right and you wouldn’t do that even if your life depended on it.

“Okay so what’s the plan?” You asked.

They all smirked. After a few suggestions you made your mind.

“Okay I will tell him that I got drunk and tried to go out to get some air and slipped and fell down a couple steps.” You said.

“Okay and you should lie on the couch so when he comes he won’t immediately realise that it’s a joke” Nesta spoke.

You nodded and approached the couch. After laying down you called Rhys in your mind

Baby.

What is it sweetheart! His deep voice rang in your mind, so soft and caring that it filled you with guilt.

Please don’t get mad, I had quite a few drinks and went out to get some air… and I don’t know how it happened but I fell down the stairs.

Silence.

Before you could even blink you heard the sound of feet touching the ground on the balcony. Rhysand rushed in, a panicked look on his face. His eyes wide as he searched for you and he was panting. The moment he spotted you laying on the sofa his face paled and he ran to you kneeling by your side. And then you noticed Madja standing there too…. In her nightgown. Your heart broke and you cursed.

“What happened sweetheart? Where does it hurt?” The worried look he gave you filled you with so much guilt that you teared up.

“Wow five seconds and he even got poor Madja on the way” Nesta said.

Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows.

“Baby I’m sorry” you cried out “they were teasing me about you babying me and we made a plan to test you. I didn’t think it would worry you that much”

You reached for him and he leaned closer, you hid your face in his neck and cried harder.

“So you’re not hurt?” He asked.

“No, ’m sorry.” you muttered.

He was stroking your hair.

“It’s okay sweetcheeks I’m just glad you’re okay” he kissed your head.

“‘M so sorry” you repeated and kept repeating it over and over again. It broke Rhys’ heart.

The girls tiptoed out and Rhys glared at them. He didn’t mind that you made him rush here but he was upset with them because you were now crying. He sent Madja an apologetic look as Mor guided her to the balcony to winnow her back home. Madja offered him a smile and waived her hand like she was saying It’s okay don’t worry about it.

He held you as you cried.

“Hey… hey it’s okay I promise” he whispered and cupped your jaw, he lifted your head so you were looking at him.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, you’re okay that’s all that matters and you should test me more often, five seconds? We need to make that; one”

You chuckled and he picked you up.

“Let’s get you home and we can find way more interesting ways for you to make it up to me” he winked.

And god did you make it up to him, multiple times and in multiple ways.

Requests are open!