#Elain Archeron fanfiction

[nikethestatue]

Princess Tea Party

Summary: Single father Azriel Night and his son are invited to a Princess Tea Party where they meet single mother Elain Archeron and her daughter. Will sparks ignite between the two singletons or will their histories catch up with them and stop them in their tracks?

Elain Archeron Week 2023 'Dreamer' @elainarcheronweek

For Dragzilla and Orio, who were my light in the darkness

Chapter One

Azriel Night

“Dada…dad…dada…wake up! Wake up, dada! We have to go! Wake up!”

Azriel Night was already kind of awake, though he lay in bed with his eyes closed and pretended to be deep asleep. His son’s solid, but soft body bumped along his, and he listened to the laboured grunting that his son emitted, as he tried to climb onto the bed. Azriel did not assist him, because his baby boy wouldn’t want him to, but he opened his eye just a little, to watch the struggle. And the struggle was real. The short little legs couldn’t reach the edge of the bed, so the short little arms were grabbing at everything in sight, as his baby was attempting to pull himself up. Azriel moved his arm just a little, and his son grabbed on immediately, not recognising that dad threw him a lifeline. 

“You need help, big guy?” Azriel asked at last, to which he immediately received an unequivocal,

“No dad! I do it.”

“Okay…Your tongue is hanging out,” Azriel noted, trying to stifle his laughter.

The baby’s brow furrowed and he asked, “what?”

“Nothing, nothing. Come on, a little more,” he encouraged and somehow, as it always happened, the kid was able to finally climb on the bed. He was panting dramatically with exertion, though that didn’t stop him from immediately demanding, “dada, let’s go!”

“Where are we going to go, Dari?” Azriel asked, stroking the small round head, running his fingers through the silken curls. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“To party!” Darius nodded confidently. “We go today.”

“We will,” Azriel assured him, “but it’s a little early. The party is at 3 o’clock.”

Darius frowned and inquired, “when this be?”

“In a few hours. Meanwhile, do you want to have breakfast?”

“Yeah, I wanna eat,” the baby nodded. “All stuffs.”

Azriel smiled—all stuffs indeed. His barely 3-year-old son looked like he was pushing six. He was big, robust and yet, still full of baby rolls. His fatty arms looked like those of a Michelin Man, and the soft, pinkish cheeks puffed out in a way that absolutely required that they be pinched. 

“Dada what we do at party?” Darius asked, his gaze curious. As it stood right now, this would be his first party. 

“Have some treats,” Azriel explained. “Fun. Maybe music.”

“Baboons?”

“Don’t know about balloons, but maybe.”

Azriel would’ve wanted for his boy to have had other party experiences, but up until about 4 months ago, life’s been hectic.

He clicked a button on his phone and the shades on his floor-to-ceiling windows slowly rose, revealing a beautiful view of Denver’s Washington Park. Another cloudless day. That was one thing that Azriel loved about his new residence—300 days of sunshine. Blue skies. Cloudless mornings such as this just about every morning. 

He’d plunked down about half a million on this penthouse, snatching it right after the pandemic for a steal. Now the place appraised for 1.3 million. He couldn’t complain. It’s the least he could expect, considering that he had to move to Denver. From NYC. Denver. Provincial and unexciting Denver, full of bearded men, flannel, and entirely too many Subarus. But his only living and close relative made Denver his home, so he packed Darius and just…moved. Without looking back. Ripped off the band aid and started a new life. And he couldn’t complain, if he was being honest. Denver’s proven to be kind of nice. It was chill and green, and though unlike his brother Cassian, he wasn’t insanely enamoured with the mountains and the bicycling and skiing and snowboarding, he came to enjoy the slower lifestyle. 

They walked around Wash Park every evening, and Darius fed the ducks and chased birds like a savage. Ladies in running gear with calves of steel and 3% body fat gave Azriel and Darius curious and often very needy glances. But Azriel knew that he only looked good ‘on paper’. He might’ve been pretty good looking, tall and athletic, with sleeves of tattoos and the cutest, chonkiest kid in the world, but he was also a single father to just-barely a 3-year-old. No one really wanted a guy with a kid. Because Darius was always going to be his priority, and no woman could ever take precedence in his life over his son. And women needed and wanted attention. Which was fine. He was doing well without them. He was busy creating fun routines and experiences for his son. Their fancy building had three pools, a game room, a bocce court, a ton of grilling spaces, chefs who came to give cooking lessons, and a playground for the kids located on the 30th floor. Darius fucking ate it all up—he loved the pool, he loved all the games, he liked to watch the chefs, because they usually called him to the counter and asked him to ‘help’, which he did eagerly. The kid wasn’t exactly shy. And he adored attention and all the oohing and aahing that came from the audience. 

There was a coffee shop where the two of them went on weekends, and a couple of times a month, they had brunch with Cassian. They had their little Italian place where the pasta was handmade and the atmosphere was nice, and they dined there a few times a week. 

Azriel knew that Cass was happy with having him and Darius around now. It felt like they were a family again, and that was nice. And even though Azriel was unsure at first whether he’d made the right decision about moving here, he was beginning to realise that perhaps, it was actually for the best. 

A week ago Darius started preschool. He only went 3 times a week for 3 hours a day, but even that had Azriel spiralling. He’d never been apart from his boy, so he spent half an hour in the car, after he dropped his baby off, and actually fucking cried. He cried. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but Darius was Azriel’s entire life. His love. So watching his boy walk away just about broke him in half. Thankfully, a little girl skipped towards his son and started saying something animatedly, before taking him by the hand and tugging him along. And Azriel was grateful to the little girl, somehow trusting her to take care of his boy. So, Darius went off with a new friend, and Azriel went back to the car and cried. The second day was a tad easier, because his boy gave him the tightest, warmest hug before he ran inside and whispered ‘love too, dada’. Azriel only cried for 15 minutes afterwards. 

…They brushed their teeth and washed their faces together, side by side, and then Azriel brushed Darius’s thick, black curls until they shone. 

“We have to shave, dada,” Darius reminded him seriously, standing on his stool, somehow already wet up to his shoulders. 

“Yeah, we gotta look good for the party,” Azriel agreed, as he covered his face with shaving cream and then dabbed some on Darius’s chubby cheeks. His son fancied himself to be very old and mature, so he had a wooden ice cream stick, which Azriel told him was his ‘blade’, so he could ‘shave’ with it, which resulted in Darius smearing the shaving cream all over his face with the stick. 

“I shave good?” 

Azriel dragged his own razor over his cheek, wondering why he was even bothering, since it was the weekend, but whatever.

“You are an ace shaver, bud,” he said. “You’ve got the smoothest cheeks!”

“Uncle Cass have a beard,” Darius announced. Uncle Cass also had long hair and rocked the mountain man look so well, and he got laid multiple times a week. Azriel didn’t have a beard, nor as much game as his brother. His lack of any kind of love life was an endless source of pestering on behalf of Cassian, who constantly volunteered to babysit, so Azriel could get out and hit the clubs. Or bars. Or the gym. Or anything. The idea of it all made Azriel slightly nauseous. He was completely unmotivated to pull anything or anyone, and though he feared that his dick might actually wither and fall off from lack of use, it was not enough motivation to go and get laid by some random girl. He wasn’t boring. He just didn’t want to do it. He was a solitary man by nature, and while his 20s were pretty wild by all accounts, he had no desire to relive any of it.

“Maybe you’ll have a beard one day too.”

Darius nodded and added, ‘like Cass! I want it.’

Azriel dried his soaking wet baby, and then they walked down the corridor to the kitchen.

“What do you want to eat, bud?”

Darius climbed onto his highchair and proposed ‘cookies’, definitely testing the waters.

Azriel chuckled and told him ‘nice try’.

Darius frowned, and then propped his cheek on his hand and demanded, “what then, dada?”

“How about eggs? Or oatmeal?”

“Okay, I eated eggs,” he decided, while Azriel poured him some juice. Settled in, Darius—who, unlike his father, was rather talkative—asked, “so what we do at party, dada? It’s fun? Is Cass gonna come?”

Since Cassian was literally the only other person that Darius knew with any degree of familiarity, Cassian featured quite often in all his questions.

“We’ll see. I am not sure,” Azriel admitted honestly, as he cracked the eggs into a bowl, at which point, Darius demanded, “I do it, dada! Give it.”

Azriel handed him a whisk and the bowl, saying, “Do it carefully, without splattering. And no, Cass isn’t coming.”

“Why no?”

“Because he wasn’t invited. Only you were invited,”

“Oh yeah,” Darius smiled happily. “Only me.”

“And I don’t think that Cass would do good at a Princess Tea Party,” Azriel said thoughtfully.

A Princess Tea Party is in fact where they were invited.

Yesterday, when Azriel came to pick Darius from preschool, Darius ran to him all excited, his shirt askew, his hair messy, waving a piece of paper in his hand. He ran into Azriel’s arms, and gave him a long tight hug, almost suffocating him. Which was totally fine by Azriel.

“I miss you, dada!”

“I missed you too, my boy. Was the school good?”

“Yeah, I love. Here dada, you read it,” Darius handed the paper to him.

Azriel took a surprisingly nice quality paper and unfolded it. It was an invitation.

You Are Cordially Invited

To

Isabella Archeron’s Princess Tea Party

Dress in your prettiest attire and prepare to enjoy delicious pastries and yummy tea

“Who gave this to you?” Azriel asked, confused by the invitation. Why was Darius invited to a Princess Tea Party?

“Girl!”

“What girl?”

“She is friend,” Darius said confidently. “Isa. She nice. I love it.”

“You like her?” Azriel straightened his son’s shirt, and then took his hand.

“Yeah, she is so good. What this paper, dada?”

“She invited you to a party tomorrow.”

“Ohhhh!” Darius looked at him with a giant happy grin and yelled “we go, dada?!?! We go to party?! I want it so!”

“You’ve never been to a party,” Azriel reminded him reasonably. Darius skipped by his side nodding in agreement, while saying, “but I wanna go.”

“To a Princess Tea party?” Azriel confirmed.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Alright. I suppose we can go. It will be mostly girls, you know,” he warned him.

Darius shrugged and said, “okay. I like girls.”

Darius was too young to have friends, and up until they moved to Denver, there wasn’t even much family to speak of. Now, at last, he had an uncle that he adored, and he was going to school where he was meeting other children and forming some kind of relationships with them. But he also had no prejudices and Azriel would’ve liked to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Elain Archeron

The doorbell rang once, almost immediately followed by a firm knock.

Elain Archeron hurried to the door, with her daughter Isabella skipping excitedly behind her. The rest of the girls were already in the den, giggling and putting on plastic tiaras and costume jewellery. 

“Ma, who is it? It’s Dari?” Isa asked, rocking on her feet, her already huge eyes lighting up with happiness.

“I don’t know, let’s see,” Elain smiled and opened the door.

She gasped and immediately stepped back. A veritable giant stood on her porch—a man so tall, he blocked out the sun. He was dressed in all black—black jeans, expensive by the look of them, stylish black boots, a thin black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and showcasing powerful forearms covered in tattoos and extensive scars. Besides this whole ‘sexy/dangerous/brooding/hot’ package that he was presenting from the very get-go, the man was…breathtakingly beautiful. 

Elain stared dumbly at him. 

Who was this? And why was he here? And she had six girls in the house. And ohmagod what was she even wearing? And why was she worrying about that? And how was her hair? And was there a smear of icing or powdered sugar on her face? Who was he? Why was he so handsome? He looked like a cross between an Armani model and someone from the set of Sons of Anarchy. Tattoos? She didn’t even like tattoos! Why was she looking at a tattooed man?! Why did his tattoos extend to his neck and why did she want to see them when he was without his black t-shirt? And how can a t-shirt stretch like this over a man’s shoulders anyway? And for the love of god, why was there a Maybach parked in her driveway?!!?

Yes, that was a thing too now. A Maybach in front of her modest craftsman. It looked about as inconspicuous as a peacock in a chicken coop. 

“Azriel,” the man said, his voice sexual and quiet.

“Yes.”

Yep, that’s what she went with. Yes. And then, she blurted out, 

“I am not Azriel.”

“I would’ve guessed,” he smiled an amused smile that was breathtaking in its beauty. 

Elain was literally hyperventilating. 

The man’s gorgeous amber eyes regarded her slowly and thoroughly. Very, very thoroughly. He studied every inch of her, taking everything in, calculating and chronicling something in his mind as he looked her over. 

What was she wearing?!?! She absolutely could not recall and couldn’t look down to check, because that would just be weird.

“I am Azriel,” he clarified.

“Okay.”

“Are you,” he paused for a second, “Isabella’s mother?”

Elain finally managed to snap out of her stupor and nodded, “I am. Can I help you?”

“We are here for the Princess Tea Party,” he explained, and it sounded as absurd as it looked. Elain attempted to translate what he was saying inside her head.

“Dari!” he called out. “Come here…Oh my god, why did you rip that poor flower?”

The next moment, a most comical looking kid bounded over. He was…big. He was probably half a head taller than Isa, though he looked like a big baby. He was portly in a baby sort of way and had puffy, soft cheeks and a gently rounded body. He was also…beautiful. Lovely colouring, huge dark eyes with thick, long lashes, and perfectly arranged features. Basically, he looked like Azriel. Unlike Azriel, he also looked like an escapee from the set of Peaky Blinders. He was sporting a white shirt, wore a bow tie (no less!), Burberry pants with suspenders, and a chequered flat cap. He was a tiny little English stud muffin from the 1920s. In one hand, he held a flower, which he clearly ripped out of Elain’s flower bed. In another, he held a paper bag from Whole Foods.

The moment was interrupted by Isabella, who yelled ‘Dari! You came to my party!’

It finally dawned on Elain and she gasped, “oh my god. I am so sorry. You are Dari?” she squatted in front of the boy and stroked his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I Daris,” he announced and then handed Isabella the flower, while she rushed to give him a hug. 

“Dari thank you!” she chirped, taking the flower, which still had the roots attached and was sprinkling soil on the floor. 

“This for you, lady,” he then handed the Whole Foods bag to Elain and Isa dragged him by the hand to the den.

Which left Elain in an enviable and highly nerve-racking position of facing the ridiculously handsome Azriel.

“His name is Darius, by the way,” Azriel chuckled. “We are still working on it…him remembering what his name is.”

Elain snorted a laugh, and then choked back a mortified huff. Azriel smiled. He still hadn’t crossed the threshold and she scrambled to invite him in.

“Please. Forgive my manners.”

“We weren’t sure what the proper attire was for a Princess Tea Party, so,” Azriel explained, as he finally stepped inside the house.

“He is the most stylish baby I’ve ever seen,” Elain laughed. “I mean, he is wearing suspenders and a bow tie!”

“Please, if you hold your sanity dear, don’t call him a baby!” Azriel warned with mock horror. “He tells me multiple times a day that he is ‘very big’,” he made air quotes with his fingers. 

“May I then say that he is seriously adorable and maybe the handsomest very big boy I’ve ever seen. Suppose he takes after his father,” at that, she laughed nervously, silently berating herself for her stupid big mouth. It’s been five minutes and she is already calling this man ‘handsome’. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like a complete freak in his company?

Azriel politely ignored her words and dutifully followed her inside the house, taking in her nicely updated craftsman. The kitchen was open to the living room, and from there, they could see the den, where six girls and one boy were currently squealing, laughing and giggling. 

She sat the bag that Darius gave her on the counter, and turned only to see Azriel propping himself against the refrigerator, arms crossed on his wide chest, a smile on his full, beautiful lips.

God his lips looked delicious. 

And what the hell was wrong with her? 

She couldn’t stop herself, before her eyes slid to his hands. Covered in scars, and absolutely massive, she couldn’t help but wonder what his touch would feel like, what the texture of his skin was like. Oh yeah, and no ring.

“I don’t mind calling you ‘Isa’s mom’ if you’d like me to,” he said with a smirk, “but I would like a name to go with the beautiful face.”

Elain stopped abruptly, actually freezing in place at his words. He thought that she was beautiful? He just…said it? He just told her that she was beautiful?

“Elain,” she whispered at last. “Without an E.”

He frowned and clarified, “so Lain?”

“No. Elain, no E at the end.”

“Ahhh, sorry. Nice to meet you, Elain without an E.”

She laughed nervously. 

He ate up so much space, her whole house seemed smaller. He was like a demonic presence, only the handsomest and the tallest demonic presence ever. She simply could not stop looking at him. It was physically impossible to avert her eyes. So she forced herself to at least open the bag,

“We weren’t sure what to bring,” he told her, “so we settled on bakery cookies.”

“Oh god, I love bakery cookies,” she moaned. How did he know?! Bakery cookies were her favourite treat. The one thing she always craved and went back for. One of a few things that reminded her of her childhood. The happier days of her childhood.

“Oh, well, then you and Darius can bond over your love for bakery cookies. I didn’t mean to buy so much, but then he had some strong opinions on the subject, so here we are…” he opened his hands apologetically.

Elain laughed.

“Darius has great taste, I’ll give him that. But you shouldn’t have…”

“No, we really should’ve,” Azriel insisted. “Your house is very nice. Homey.” He looked around, and Elain blushed softly. She took great pride in her home, in how she decorated it, in its elegance and it pleased her that he saw it too, even if he probably was just trying to be nice. “We don’t have many friends,” he continued, “we recently moved here, so this is…well, this is the first Denver outing we’ve come to,”

Swallowing hard, Elain decided that minute that she needed to rip off the band aid.

“You and…your wife?” he asked, not looking at him and trying to act nonchalant, as she began arranging the cookies on the platter.

Meanwhile, in the den, the party was in full swing, with all toddlers apparently dancing to ‘Dancing in the Dark’.

Azriel chuckled and commented, “this is quite the eclectic playlist,”

Elain smiled, noticing that he’d avoided the question.

“Springsteen…and ABBA before that. And was it Prince that was playing when we came in?”

“Isa made the playlist. She is an old soul.”

“A beautiful soul,” Azriel said. “She was the one who took Darius under her wing on his first day at school. It…meant a lot to me,” his voice dropped and when Elain glanced at him, she saw vulnerability in his expression. A softness that she didn’t see before.

Smiling, Elain began arranging tiny pasties on a tri-level platter. “Can I confess something?”

“Sure,” he approached the counter and said, “and while you are laying it all out for me, why don’t I help you? All the other moms bailed I am guessing?”

“Oh yeah,” Elain seemingly just realised that the kids were dropped off with her, and the moms indeed all bailed. “I guess they did…You can help by arranging the sandwiches.”

She placed a tray of perfectly neat finger sandwiches in front of him. Azriel washed his hands and then set to work.

“I thought Dari was a girl,” Elain giggled. “I am sorry.”

He chuckled. “It’s alright. I figured. Not often boys get invited to a Princess Tea Party.”

“Isa didn’t tell me,” she glanced at the children, and added, “but it seems like they are getting on very well.”

Darius and Isa were holding hands and dancing together. The other girls were dancing around them, all decked out in fake jewels and tiaras.

“Yeah, he is not allergic to attention or anything,” Azriel agreed with a shake of his head, as he smirked to himself.

“Oh, I should’ve asked if there is something Darius doesn’t like,” Elain worried. “Is he allergic to anything?”

“Does he look like he doesn’t like something?” Azriel raised a brow at her and she snorted a laugh. “He eats everything. But only normal, grown-up food. None of that chicken nugget shit or fries. I like for him not to develop any bad habits,”

“I am the same with Isa! We’ve never been to a fast-food restaurant!” Elain exclaimed, surprised that they seemed to share the same philosophy about their children.

“Does this look okay?” Azriel asked, pointing at the neat row of sandwiches.

It was surprisingly easy being with him. Despite his intimidating gorgeousness, Elain didn’t feel any tension, other than her own instant and debilitating attraction to him. But she figured that he was used to attention—99.9% of world’s female population were probably attracted to him. Yet he was capable, fast, and absolutely adept at being in the kitchen. Efficient. Also, he smelled so enticingly, she needed to hold herself back and not try to sniff him and appear like she’d completely lost her mind. But she did. She’d never been attracted to anyone like this. It was instant and so powerful that it actually concerned her. It surely wasn’t healthy that she fought the urge to run her hands over his strong forearms, or that she wanted to press her lips to his beautiful neck. Or rub her cheek against his. Or do other things which she didn’t dare think about now.

He was the type of aggressively masculine handsome male, with an aura of danger and rebellion about him that most women dreamt of. When they were married to their quiet, slightly paunchy, slightly balding account manager or operations supervisor husbands, they dreamt that a man like Azriel would suddenly appear, fall madly in love with them and sweep them off their feet. So it was surreal to watch him arrange finger sandwiches in her kitchen.

“Perfect! There is iced tea in the fridge, if you can get it,” she requested. “And fill the teapot.”

“This really is a perfect little tea party,” he complimented her, as he followed her orders.

Everything was finally ready, and Elain set all the platters and the teapot, a bowl with cubed sugar, another with jam and clotted cream for the scones, on a large tray and Azriel stepped forward and said, ‘allow me’. For that, she was grateful, because the tray was heavy and laden with food, and she whispered ‘thank you’ as Azriel picked the whole thing up easily. 

“The tea is served!” she announced, “take your seats!”

The seven hyper toddlers gathered around the low coffee table and squeaked with excitement when Azriel arrived with the treats. He and Elain placed everything on the table, and then poured everyone their tea. 

Darius was bouncing in his seat, clapping his chubby hands together, his tongue hanging out like usual when he was excited. 

“Hey big guy,” Azriel bent and kissed his son’s head. “Are you having a good time?”

“Dada! I love it so much,” Darius roared with sheer ecstatic delight. “This party is so good!”

“You treating the girls nicely? You are being a gentleman?”

Nodding his consent aggressively, Darius said, “I be nice and good. I like dance and it’s fun.”

Meanwhile, Elain was instructing in the correct way of partaking in the tea, and everyone listened with rapt attention.

“Sandwiches first. Scones next,” she said. “There is jam and cream, if you’d like. Finally, pastries and cookies. Everyone behave like proper ladies and a gentleman, alright?”

Darius immediately reached for the scone, but Azriel stooped next to him and wrapped his arm around his son’s body and whispered quietly into his ear, ‘Dari, remember how Elain said to start with the sandwiches? You should do that,”

“Dada, I don’t want sandwich!” Darius pouted. “I want cake.” He mistook the scone for cake, and already held a spoon heaping with clotted cream. He was clearly liking being independent and making his own decisions. 

“I think you should start with the yummy sandwiches,” Azriel proposed. “There is delicious chicken salad in this one, and egg salad in this…and I think it would make Elain very happy if you tried them first,”

Darius looked up at Elain, who was watching his dad closely, and nodded, “oh, okay. Lain, you want me to eat sandwich?”

She smiled and nodded, “I would love for you to try my sandwiches, Dari.”

“Okay, I eat it then.”

Azriel took one of the linen napkins and tied it around Darius’s neck.

“Dada, I don’t want bip! Why I have to have it?!” his son protested and Elain couldn’t help but smile at his indignation.

Azriel immediately said, “oh, it’s not a bib, Dar. It’s a napkin—it’s a must for High Tea!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Elain helped out and stated, “Absolutely. You ought to wear a napkin for tea.”

That seemed to placate him, and he left the napkin in place.

Azriel mouthed ‘thank you’ to her and she gave him a nod of understanding. 

The way Azriel was with his baby boy was incredible. It’s not just Elain watching an attractive man with a baby that was making her ovaries explode. It’s how Azriel made Darius feel—heard. Azriel didn’t order. He wasn’t impatient or annoyed. He was kind and loving and Elain was awed by their relationship. In just about one sentence, Azriel could convince Darius of what he wanted him to do without any pressure or anger, and Darius was pretty happy to do it.

What Elain didn’t expect was what happened next. Azriel kissed the top of Darius’s head, leaving the kids to their own devices, straightened, and suddenly, extended his hand to Elain. She just stood there, not sure of what she was supposed to do, but then he stepped towards her and took her by the hand, tugging her gently alongside him. Elain followed. 

His hand was massive. It was rough with scars, the palm easily covering the entirety of her hand, the fingers long and strong. 

“I know the other parents dumped the kids on you,” he said, his voice low, as they returned to the kitchen. “And fucked right out of here,”

At that Elain laughed. Azriel cursing was kind of…funny. 

“But,” he moistened his lips, as if he was nervous for some reason. “Do you mind if I stay here? For the duration?”

He looked almost unsure of himself, which was in great contrast to how he generally came off. 

Elain didn’t even know how to answer. She wanted to shout ‘yes, OF COURSE YOU CAN STAY!!!’ but she settled for a more reasonable, “of course.”

He pursed his lips for a moment and then sat down on the bar stool by the counter, and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“I…” he sighed. “I feel like I should explain,”

“No, you don’t have to.”

But he proceeded to tell her, “I’ve never been apart from Darius.”

Elain blinked and exhaled a soft ‘oh’.

He continued, “To answer your earlier question, no, I don’t have a wife and he doesn’t have a mother. It’s just me and him. Always been. Therefore, I am the definition of what you would call a ‘helicopter father’. I’ve never been without him since he was born, and I can’t…” he swallowed. Hard. His voice was dry. “Darius is my life. I had a nervous breakdown earlier this week, when I sent him to school. I sat in the car for the three hours that he was there, because I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I don’t know why I am telling you this. You probably think that I am mental,”

“No,” Elain said firmly, reaching for him and placing her hand on his. “No. I don’t think that at all. And I am not just saying that either to placate you.”

He glanced at her, his gorgeous hazel-amber eyes shining with an untold emotion. But it was his hand beneath her that made her own breath quicken. He lightly drew his thumb back and forth over hers, touching her lightly. 

Now it was her turn to swallow.

But she managed to say, “Love is complicated. People don’t seem to understand how complicated parental love is sometimes. Especially when you don’t have anyone else to share it with and it’s all on you. To be the sole provider of all the love and support and kindness to your child,”

“I guess there is no Mr. Elain Without an E at the End then,” Azriel huffed under his breath.

The comment made her blush, but she nodded curtly.

“There isn’t.”

He exhaled what could be described as a relieved sigh.

“You are pleased?” She challenged him.

He hummed to himself and said at last, “it’s not that I am pleased, per se. But I don’t hate the idea of you being single.”

Now breathless, Elain whispered, “why?”

There was a long pause. 

The silence was interrupted by the exclamations, giggles and conversations taking place in the den. Sinatra was singing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’. The house smelled of pasty and lemons.

“Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said at last, his eyes boring into hers. There was no pretence in his expression. No falseness. 

“We’ve just met,” she mumbled, her heart beating so hard, she was sure that he could probably see it. “You can’t say such things to me.”

“Why not?” his gargantuan hand migrated from underneath hers on top of her palm, and he lightly stroked her pulse, and then her wrist with his fingers. “You are. Exceptionally beautiful. You aren’t what I expected to meet when I came here for the Princess Tea Party. Your lovely, kind daughter isn’t what I expected either. You are both kind and welcoming and funny. 

“I’ve wasted a lot of fucking time, Elain. So much time spent on the wrong relationships, on women who didn’t deserve my attention, on people and things that brought me nothing in return, but took up a lot of space in my head and sucked out a lot of my energy. 

“And then I got Darius and I realised that life’s too short for half-truths and waiting. So I am direct. You might not like that and I get it. But I am what I am. And if I think that you are beautiful, then you are.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say. She was considered beautiful, it wasn’t exactly news, but she hasn’t been called that before. Not to her face, not by a man such as Azriel. Older people waxed poetic about her ‘pre-Raphaelite’ features. Her golden hair. Her expressive eyes. Her strawberry-and-cream complexion. However, modern men didn’t appreciate the delicacy of her features. They wanted the overly-done, spackled Instagram ‘influencers’. And Elain wasn’t that. Though she was an Instagram influencer.

“And you being single,” he continued, “opens up a world of possibilities for me.”

“What sort of possibilities?” she murmured, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he for real? Did he really find her…attractive? Desirable? It wasn't impossible, but it was so bizarre that she couldn’t really wrap her mind around the fact. Simply because Elain was never desired by anyone before.

He drummed his fingers on the counter and searched for some truth in her face, for something that only he was privy to. Naturally he avoided her question, like he did the marriage question before and she had a feeling that he’d answer it in due time.

“Do you want to eat?” he asked suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“Eat. Do you want to eat something? While our kids are gorging themselves on pastries, do you want to eat something more grownup? I can make us something,” he offered.

This was the most confusing man Elain’s ever met. He got up and went to the refrigerator, acting like he’s been here a million times before.

“What do you feel like?” he asked without looking at her. Then he turned around and said, “let me guess…” he seized her up, while she crossed her arms on her chest and stared down at him. 

“I think…” he tsked, still considering something in his head, “I think you look like a girl who’d like a nice big salad with everything.”

Elain’s mouth popped open into a surprised ‘O’.

“How,” she began saying, but he cut in,

“How did I know that you’d like a nice salad? I have a gift, lovely Elain. I see things. Things that others miss,”

“What do you do?” she demanded, now worried that he was some unsavoury character who was trying to fleece her for information, though it was preposterous. He was driving a Maybach! What did she have that he could possibly want or need?

Meanwhile, Azriel began pulling out lettuces, herbs, a red pepper, jalapenos, scallions and olives from the fridge. 

“I mean, are you going to tell me that I am wrong?” he teased, as he piled the greens on the counter, “you have four varieties of lettuce, you have a daikon radish, you have two…no, three bags of various kale, what the hell is that? Spirulina?! Who has spirulina powder?!”

“I have spirulina!” she almost shouted, but he was laughing.

“Oh, chill, beautiful, I love the variety!” He then grabbed tomatoes, a jar of hearts of palm, and a bag of shelled edamame from the freezer, as well as a bunch of radishes. “I mean daikon? Seriously?!”

“I love daikon!” she exclaimed.

“Clearly…”

Still pouting at his humorous critique, she nevertheless got up and went to the walk-in pantry, before returning a minute later with a large platter.

And all the while, she’s been thinking about how he called her ‘beautiful’. Like it was the most natural thing for him to say. Like he actually thought that and meant it.

“Do you always come to strangers’ homes and start cooking for them?” she inquired tartly, though she definitely didn’t mind watching him take his hoodie off and expose his monstrously gorgeous physique to her in his form-fitting black t-shirt.

“No,” he said simply, as he lined a cucumber on the cutting board and diced it like a professional chef–fast, with precise, perfect movements, which produced perfectly uniform cubes of cucumber. “But then you aren’t a stranger. And I don’t want to be a stranger to you.” He looked up from the cutting board and his luminous eyes bored into hers. “And I think it’s quite normal for a man to want to feed his woman,”

His woman?!?!

Internally screaming, Elain was now panting like a golden retriever. She had no words. Just emotions. 

His woman.

His. Woman.

What?

How did she become his woman?

Oh, and the bastard knew that he was completely throwing her, judging by his indecently sexy smirk, as he began on the radishes, but he played it so cool…just so cool, and continued as if he didn’t just say something totally outrageous.

“You know, we’ve been killing mammoths back in the day,”

“Of course, and you remember, huh?” she finally managed to ask.

“I remember that it’s my pleasure and honour to provide you with a little sustenance. Why the veg though?” Now he was curious.

Elain, discombobulated emotionally and psychologically, needed a moment to gather herself and her thoughts. He was giving her the biggest whiplash of her life.

He went from stroking her hand, to calling her ‘beautiful’ as an endearment, to telling her she was his woman, to now raiding her fridge and making them a salad all in a span of less than 20 minutes.

This was more excitement than she’d experienced in the past 3 years!

She looked down, her hands cupped on her lap. She finally recalled what she was wearing–a pretty white boho dress with some white embroidery and a generously revealing neckline. Okay, she didn’t know that he would storm into her life and turn it upside down when she was dressing for the tea party. But it also didn’t escape her entirely that he admired her dress and perhaps some other things more than once.

“I was an overweight child–which in my mother’s eyes was the greatest sin imaginable–while my two sisters were willow thin. Up until I was about fifteen, my relationship with food was messy, mostly because of the fat shaming that my mother subjected me to,” 

Azriel did not pause his slicing and dicing, but his brow was deeply furrowed with a grim expression. He didn’t comment though. And Elain didn't know why she was telling him these personal, painful things. 

“Anyway,” she shrugged it off, and concluded, “I decided that I wanted to change my attitude towards food. I no longer wanted to punish or reward myself with it. I simply wanted to eat and be healthy. And I discovered that I loved vegetables. Changing how I ate, how I thought, how I viewed myself gave me a new outlook on life–vegetables, fruits, sunshine, walks, gardening–it gave me energy, strength, and a better attitude.

“And when I had my daughter, I swore that I’d instil her with confidence and a much brighter and healthier relationship with food.”

Azriel dumped the first batch of sliced and chopped veggies into the bowl, and began on the rest of the ingredients. The salad was already looking mouthwatering.

“The veggies paid off,” he said at last, looking at her. “You are stunning.”

At that, Elain gasped and he smiled at her.

“Please don’t bother protesting,” he ordered. 

She slapped her hands on the counter, and then announced sternly, “Okay, I can’t take anymore compliments!”

Azriel barked a loud and amused laugh.

“You’ve reached your compliments quota, beautiful?”

“Tell me about Darius,” she demanded, ignoring the ‘beautiful’ quip.

“Darius? What do you want to know? He is not exactly very complicated,” Azriel chuckled.

Elain insisted though. “No. I want to know about you and Darius. What happened to his mother? Where is she? Tell me.”

Azriel hummed and Elain wondered if she’d pushed him too far. She really had no right to ask him personal questions. He’d asked her about vegetables and she then suddenly developed verbal and emotional diarrhoea. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. But she didn’t have to ask him about his kid.

“Where she is,” he suddenly answered, “I have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, remembering something and then said,

“Honestly, when I said that Darius is my son, I meant it. He is mine. He is my baby, my friend, my son. It’s me and him. There is no mother,”

“Oh, was he born via a surrogate?” it dawned on Elain that that might have been the case, but Azriel shook his head and huffed a bitter sort of snort.

“No. Not at all. His mother is a famous model–now more known with her erratic behaviour and alcohol binges than her career–but when I knew her, she was in her prime. We had a very, and I mean, very fleeting relationship,”

He began salting the salad, squeezing lemon all over, swishing a healthy helping of olive oil on top and then began tossing it with two spoons.

“I don’t know…I hardly even remember hooking up with her,” he admitted and that made Elain squirm in her seat a bit. Azriel talking so openly about his sex life was unsettling. It also made something pinch inside her chest. Something unpleasant and sharp.

Jealousy.

She had no right to be jealous, and it was an irrational feeling towards a man she just met, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I dunno,” he leaned on his elbows and propped his cheek, thinking. “Like I said, there isn’t much to say. One day–it was Wednesday, I remember that very well–my doorbell rang. I went to open it, and there she stood, with a tiny bundle in her arms. It was late April, but fucking cold outside, and all I saw was this tiny bare foot that poked out of the blanket. And then a bare arm. And I was horrified that this kid wasn’t dressed for the weather.”

There was a touch of anger in his voice, but he pushed it down and then said,

“She literally handed me this bundle with a child in it and said that it was mine and he was three days old. She apparently came straight from the hospital? I am not sure why he wasn’t dressed better, but whatever. She told me that she couldn’t take care of ‘it’--she kept calling him ‘it’--and then she simply turned around and walked away. Oh, and she handed me his birth certificate. He was nameless too.

“That was a weird Wednesday,” he chuckled dryly.

Elain stared at him, horrified. This was the most insane story, considering that he and this mysterious model weren’t even in a relationship.

“And? Then what?” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth.

“And then what?” Azriel’s massive shoulders moved in another shrug, and then he straightened and expelled a heavy sight. “What do you think? Got a bit of a mental walloping. That’s some mindfuck, when someone suddenly hands you a baby! And says good luck. I didn’t even know the sex! I had no diapers, no formula, no clothes, no place for him to sleep–ah, I finally discovered that he was a he–no wipes, and oh, no freakin’ name! And I didn’t actually know that he was in fact mine. Plates?”

“What?”

“Where are the plates? It’s time to eat,”

She pointed to a cupboard, but also snapped, “you can’t just leave me hanging here! Tell me the rest of the story! Come on,”

He seemed entertained by her demands, and said, “well, if I tell you my story, you tell me yours too.”

“Fine! Not much to tell,” she muttered.

He looked at her, brow raised in a dare, and said, “you are absolutely telling me the story. And why someone like you isn’t taken. You legit have the perfect little house, with white trim and shutters, this perfect kitchen, perfect floors, and a white picket fence. Where is Mr. Perfect then? Not to mention that you have the most perfect beauty of a daughter!”

Elain smiled shyly and looked out to the den. From this angle, she could see Isa–her sweet, actually perfect little girl. Isa, with her pretty ringlets and her gorgeous soulful eyes, was someone who had the biggest heart and truly was one of the best people she knew. It wasn’t because Isa was her daughter–some kids were assholes and their age didn’t prevent them from being that. But Isa was curious and smart, giving and friendly. Even without asking, Elain knew that Isa took it upon herself to befriend little Darius, and made him feel welcome in their school. Darius seemed like someone who could stand up for himself–his size alone would probably intimidate any bratty kid–but he was also young and innocent, and truly was still more of a baby than a child. He didn’t even know how to speak properly yet. And Elain figured that Isa wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. 

“How did you get on with raising him?” she inquired at last.

Azriel meanwhile piled a good amount of salad onto a plate, and then speared his fork through it. Elain was a little surprised, and yes, miffed, that he didn’t give her any, but then she shouldn’t have expected him to serve her. He already cooked! That was enough.

Azriel stepped closer to her, but didn’t sit down, and towered over her, as he thrust the fork towards her mouth and whispered, “open up”.

Bewildered by the request, Elain just stared at him, completely confused.

“Come on,” he prompted her, pushing the salad against her slightly parted lips. She opened up and he pushed the salad inside, and smiled, watching her chew.

“What are you doing?” she asked at last, once she swallowed. This salad was freakin’ amazing! It was delicious. Perfectly dressed, with a delectable combination of textures and flavours. 

“Feeding you,” he said simply and then took a bite of the salad himself, from the same plate, not changing forks or anything. 

“Why?” she asked, feeling hot and bothered, and…sexual. Why was she so bothered by him? He was not the first man she’d ever come in contact with, but even despite his blatantly indescribable attractiveness this felt different somehow. It felt like a possibility. And Elain wasn't sure what to make of it. What exactly was she hoping for here? “I can feed myself, you know,” she added tersely.

“I am aware,” his tone was the same–calm and reasonable–”but I like the idea of feeding my woman.”

With that, he fed her another mouthful of salad, and she barely avoided choking on it. 

“Your woman?” she repeated, her cheeks heating, her hands trembling on her lap. “Since when exactly did I become your woman?”

“You haven’t yet,” he answered patiently. “But I am hoping that that’s where this is leading. For now, though, you will be my good girl and let me feed you. Now, open up,” 

The words ‘good girl’ scrambled Elain’s insides into an absolute frenzy–there was fluttering, squeezing, palpitations, achy feels between her legs, and all sorts of engorgements…in various parts of her body. And the bastard knew and saw it all, judging by the satisfied, salacious smirk on his disgustingly perfect lips.

This was either the worst or the best Princess Tea Party in history. Elain wasn’t sure which one it was. She also didn’t know what to do with this man. Was he everything that she’d ever dreamed of and hoped for? Probably. But now, faced with an actual man of her dreams, she was stumped. She wished that her sister Nesta was here to help out and try to figure this out, and what her next steps should be, but she was all alone facing this sublime beast of a male.

But, no…

Azriel leaned back on his forearms on the counter, eating lazily, and feeding her, though he still towered over her, even in this position. There was something dominating about his stance, but Elain didn’t find it in herself to care. He also didn’t seem to expect an answer from her–he simply fed them both, and then went back to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of Pinot Grigio and poured them both a glass. 

“Dada! Dada!” they heard the familiar call, and the next moment, Darius sprinted into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and jam, his black curls kind of wild atop of his round head.

He stopped and then extended his chunky hands, a small cake in each palm.

“Dada, I bringed cakes for you,” he explained. “And Lain too. You eat it,” he nudged them, and then dropped the cakes into their outstretched hands.

“Aww thanks big guy,” Azriel said softly, “you are the best boy.”

“Yeah,” Darius accepted the praise easily and didn’t argue. He was the best boy. 

He stood on his toes and tried to see what the adults were eating.

“What you eat, dada?” he demanded.

“Salad,” Azriel said, and then offered, “you want some?”

Darius made a face and shook his head no. 

“No, dada, no salad,” he frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“I figured,” Azriel chuckled and then fed some more to Elain. Darius observed them both, his head cocked to the side, watching. 

“Lain, you love salad?”

“I do. Your dada made a very very delicious salad for us,” Elain said, while Azriel stepped closer to her and she was just about overwhelmed by the scent of masculine pheromones in the air. He smelled of cedar, sharp and crisp, and there was something so attractive about the scent of his skin that she fought the urge to moan out loud. It absolutely didn’t help that Azriel’s finger lightly skimmed over the side of her neck. Leisurely and with strange familiarity, as if he’d done this a million times before with her. 

“Yeah, dada always make good stuffs,” Darius agreed, and Elain held herself together by a thin thread, trying not to alarm a toddler while she was mentally lusting over his father.

“How’s it going with you guys there?” Azriel asked.

“Is good!” Darius reported enthusiastically. “We eated all cakes and stuffs, I want milk and we gonna watch a movie.”

“Ahhh…got it. Can you ask Elain nicely for milk? And may I wash your face?”

“Oh, sorry Lain. Can I have milk please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she got up and poured him a glass of milk, while Azriel grabbed him under his arm and dangled him over the sink.

“I flied!” Darius yelled, spreading his arms, while Azriel tried to stifle a laugh at his antics, and Elain filled her palm with water and began washing Darius’s sticky face. 

“Thank you,” Azriel whispered, while Darius attempted to thrust his arms under the faucet.

“Why are you so jacked up? No more sugar for you,” he warned his son. “Quiet time with the movie.”

“Yeah, I want movie,” Darius agreed. “Do plane, dada!”

Azriel sighed, while Elain laughed at the two of them and chased Darius’s face with a paper towel to wipe him clean and dry. Then Azriel lifted Darius with one arm all the way above his head, and Darius screeched loudly with excitement, as he flapped his arms.

All this commotion called the rest of the children to the kitchen, and Isa watched ‘the plane’ enviously, before saying, “I want this too!”

Azriel put Darius down and said, “Alright. I’ll give everyone a plane ride, while we get the movie going.”

“They can watch ‘Cinderella’ or ‘Snow White’,” Elain told him, while he lifted Isa high above his head and she yelled and hooted with delight screaming ‘mama, look at me!’ Everyone headed back to the den, and Elain watched Azriel with her daughter and it did something to her. Despite his size and his somewhat menacing appearance, Azriel was such a gentle man. He was incredibly thoughtful and good with children, and they seemed to trust him instantly. But there was something wild and untamed about him as well. Like he’d never been in the company of a female who domesticated him a bit. 

“Lain,” Darius tugged on her skirt, and she looked down, and stroked her fingers through his hair. “Do you want hug?” he offered. “I give good hug. Dada say and Cass too.”

She grinned and nodded, “Yes, Dari, I’d love a good hug from you.”

“Oh good!” he opened his arms and she squatted, and he immediately threw his fatty arms around her neck. She wrapped him in her embrace and sat down, with him straddling her. 

“Who is Cass?” she asked, gently rubbing his back, as he tucked into her body and pressed his face between her breasts.

“Cass is uncle,” he said, and then exhaled deeply, settling in for a hug. 

Elain rocked him slowly on her lap, enjoying his (substantial) weight and his solid sturdiness. He was so much denser than Isa, yet she loved that he was still a baby. Elain loved babies and once in her life imagined that she’d have a large family–four, maybe five, children–a husband who’d love her and whom she’d adore. But none of it happened. Nothing’s happened the way she planned. 

She pressed her cheek to Darius’s head and hugged him a little tighter. For some reason, her own failures made her sad. She was a lifegiver by nature–she loved children, baking, gardening, she loved watching things grow: flowers, plants, herbs and even bread. She loved to experience the mystery of creation, loved watching things blossom and grow and come to life. Even despite all the challenges, she loved her pregnancy, loved giving birth to Isabella and nurturing her every day of her life. 

“Dari, what does your dad do?” Elain asked.

Darius thought for a moment and then said, “Dada make pictures.”

‘He makes pictures?” she repeated, a little uncertain about what he meant. “Like an artist?”

“I dunno,” Darius admitted with a sigh.

“No,” they heard Azriel’s voice. “I am a photographer.”

Elain looked up, lifting her cheek from Darius’s head and saw Azriel standing in the doorway, his arms folded on his chest. But it was his gaze that jolted her. His eyes were hungry. Ravenous. Like he was looking at his next meal. Elain froze under that gaze: the way his hazel eyes devoured her. Devoured her with his son in her lap.

“Well, I stepped away for ten minutes and he certainly found a way to make himself very comfortable.”

Darius didn’t even turn his head, firmly attached to every curve of Elain’s body.

“He wanted to give me a hug,” Elain explained.

“I bet he did,” Azriel chuckled. “I’d like to give you a hug too…”

He winked at her and Elain blushed as usual, because she did that a lot with him. Seemed to her that the kind of hugs Azriel wanted from her involved a lot less clothing and a lot more…hugging. Though she couldn’t say that she hadn't imagined how those huge scarred hands would feel on her naked skin–about a dozen times now.

“You wanna give Lain hug, dada?”

“I would. Run and watch the movie with the girls, big guy. It just started.”

“But I wanna be with Lain,” Darius protested, pouting. Then he finally tore his head away from her chest and looked up at her, “Lain, you wanna be with me?”

She stroked his soft fluffy cheek and kissed his little hand,

“I do, Dari. I like you very much, sweet boy.”

“Yeah? I like too, Lain. You and Isa. I like a lot.”

Then he finally climbed off her lap and rushed back to the den.

Azriel watched him, and then his eyes transferred back to Elain. He rubbed his chin and drew his thumb over his lower lip.

“Forgive him. He has no experience with women at all.”

“I understand. And it’s no problem. I already adore him,” she admitted. “And I want to give him hugs and kisses. He is too cute.”

“He is cute,” Azriel agreed. “My heart. Life of my life.”

Azriel moved smoothly, walking to the electric kettle and turning it on. Then he took out a couple of tea cups and set them on the counter.

“I have a few questions,” he said, busying himself with tea. His voice was firm, with a touch of demand in it. “And I’d like for you to answer them truthfully.”

“O-kay,” Elain allowed, squeezing her laced fingers together. 

Azriel poured hot water over the loose tea leaves in a pretty English teapot and brought it to the counter. He sat down and stretched his long, muscular legs before him, relaxing into the back of the chair.

“Relax,” he told her.

“I haven’t been relaxed since you stepped into my house,” she blurted out.

“Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?” He looked serious, and a bit tense now. 

She shook her head, “no. Not uncomfortable.”

“What then?”

“Confused.”

He didn’t respond and then poured them both tea, once it steeped long enough.

“You know how to make tea,” she commented, sort of puzzled by that. How would a man like this know how to make a proper cup of tea?

“Lived in London for almost four years,” he explained. “Learned there.”

Well, that explained it.

“Why are you confused?” he pushed.

“You are confounding,” Elain sipped her tea, trying to find something to do with her hands and being grateful for the cup. 

“In what way?”

“Your manner…the way you seem to dominate the space around you. The way you are with me.”

“How am I with you?” he pressed, drumming his fingers slowly on the white quartz, his eyes never leaving her face.

“I am not sure. But unlike any man before. You are forward and challenging. But also thrilling. And I don’t know how to deal with you. I…I am not,” she sipped again, now burning her mouth, but terrified of admitting her truths to him. 

“You’ve been dealing with me very well up to now,” he argued.

“Yet inside, I am dazed and confused.”

Suddenly, he reached towards her and his enormous, warm, rough palm cupped her cheek. She stiffened in place, almost clutching at the edge of the counter, but she didn’t want to look too dramatic.

“You don’t need to be confused. But I like that you are dazed,” he murmured, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “God you are so fucking beautiful…” he gasped, as if disbeliving that fact. “I’d love to kiss you.”

She was feeling faint. Truly, if she was going to collapse now and faint like some 19th century damsel, she wouldn’t be surprised. 

Who said things like these?!?!

“I…what? No. No, you can’t.”

“Why?” he inquired, his brow furrowed. 

“I,” she felt like she was hyperventilating.

“Is there a man in the picture?” he asked then, his tone dry.

“No. No man.”

He smiled a quick, pleased smile.

“Then that’s good.”

Elain didn’t bother asking him about a woman in his life. It didn't seem like he had one. And his comment about Darius not being used to women only confirmed that. But, that wasn’t enough.

“What I am trying to say,” she whispered, while he still held her face in his palm, and his touch was gentle and warm, as he listened attentively, and in the background Gus the Mouse was singing a song, “is that I’m not experienced. Not at all,” she hurried, wishing to get this out. “I am…I don’t have experience with men. I am not experienced with sex. I don’t know how to do this,” she waved her hand between their bodies. “This fancy banter. This…You! I don’t know how to do you,”

“You can do me very easily,” he chuckled a husky, sexy chuckle. “I’d love for you to do me.”

“No, no!” she slapped his other hand in frustration. “You think I am kidding, but I am not! I am not kinky,”

“I didn’t say I was kinky,” he reminded her with that impossible smirk of his. “Why did you assume I was kinky? And what’s kinky, exactly?”

“That’s the thing!” she exclaimed in frustration. “I don’t know! I have Isa and my business, and that’s it. I don’t know the modern lingo. I don’t know what people are into. I am not into spanking and choking,”

“Seems like you do know what people are into,” he teased.

“I only know a little because I read books,”

“Naughty books, it seems like,”

But at last, he dropped his hand from her face, and she thought that he was annoyed with her, but he only covered her hands with his and squeezed lightly.

“Calm down and breathe.”

Elain realised that she was panting loudly, and she felt extremely hot. She was sweating beneath her dress, and her hands were shaking.

“Elain, please,” he said kindly. “Please…I am sorry if I’ve upset you. It’s not my intention at all. But you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,”

“I’ve only had sex once,” she shot out in one breath.

He had no visible reaction for a few seconds. Then, confusion. Then, he asked,

“You mean…wait…what do you mean? You,”

“Basically a virgin,” she admitted bitterly, hanging her head. 

They were both silent for a few moments, before she continued,

“I was a senior in university–twenty-one years old. Almost twenty-two. Never had a real boyfriend. Never even been kissed other than by Bobby Sands when we were nine. And don’t tell me that I am ‘pretty and how could that be’,” she warned him.

“But you are pretty and how could that be?” he said immediately and she smiled weakly at him. He was smiling back.

“Anyway, I went to a party and met this guy Graysen Nolan–I mean, I knew who he was–he was a football superstar. He was the quarterback for the Buffaloes and he was at the party and he was paying me attention. Like, a lot of attention. And he was laughing with me and joking, and telling stories and slipping me Margaritas,”

“Did he rape you?” Azriel’s tone was deadly, and Elain saw that moment in his expression that he was capable of some dark deeds.

“No,” she shook her head no. “I was willing. I mean, I don’t know–he wasn’t violent. He wasn’t mean. But I was drunk. I mean, I guess I consented. I am not sure…”

“So he took advantage of you at the very least.”

“Yes. And he also took my virginity. Which I don’t even remember happening, or feeling it. I don’t even know if he took it entirely, to be honest.  And he didn’t use a condom. And because I was a hopeless virgin, I wasn’t on any kind of birth control. And I guess I was too stupid to go to Walgreens the next day and get Plan B. Then three weeks later, I realised that my period was late. And late. And I was terrified, because things like these don’t happen, right? They don’t happen to good girls who are virgins. It couldn’t happen to me. I went and I got a pregnancy test and it was positive.”

“And you kept her,” Azriel said simply.

“I considered it. I really did. I considered getting an abortion and just chucking it off to a bad, drunk decision in college. But then I also always wanted to be a mother and as I thought about it, I was more and more petrified that somehow, I was given this option and if I didn’t take it, I might ever have it again. Looking back, it seems very juvenile…almost religious. And I am not religious at all. 

“I think deep down, I just wanted to have her. I don’t think I could ever actually go through with an abortion. 

“And as difficult as it’s been at times, I never regretted my decision. Never. I never thought what my life would have been without her…it just wasn’t an option any longer. And in some ways, some doors closed for me, but others opened. I became a caterer, and now I have a side business that does flowers as well, and I am doing…pretty good. Financially, I am more successful than I thought I would be. 

“I started with making cakes and cupcakes and children’s parties and birthdays and anniversaries and then I began expanding further, and I have a hugely successful Instagram account, with recipes and videos. And that led to paid sponsorships and advertisements. So I don’t know how, but somewhere along the way, I became successful. 

“But when I say that I am inexperienced, I mean it. I’ve only had sex once. And I got pregnant. And I’ve never been with a man since.”

He was back leaning in his chair, watching her, lightly licking his lower lip.

“So,” he said at last, “I have a question for you.”

Elain wiped her brow with her hand, feeling raw and exposed.

This was definitely the worst Princess Tea Party in history. Definitely.

“Yeah?” she breathed.

“Do you find me attractive?”

The question was not what she was expecting. Shocker. The least shocking thing about this was that he shocked her. 

“I…what? Why are you asking me this?” she demanded.

“It’s a simple question,” he said calmly. “Am I attractive to you?”

YES. 10000% yes.

“Everyone would find you attractive,” she said instead.

“That wasn’t the question,” he reminded her. 

He poured himself more wine from the open bottle and sipped it slowly.

“Because I find you very attractive. Beautiful, in fact. And I’d like to kiss you, at the very least,”

“No,” she gasped. “You can’t kiss me!”

He bobbed his head side to side, and then decided, 

“Okay. Well, if you won’t let me kiss you, then can you climb on my lap so I can finger you until you come. Because I really, really want to watch you come. 

“I think you’d come beautifully for me. And maybe then I can kiss you.”

The thundering shock that roiled the entirety of Elain’s body was unlike anything she'd experienced before. Because that could not be what she just heard. He could not have said these words. 

She murmured, absolutely floored, “you did not just say this to me.”

“Oh no, I definitely did,” he insisted, without taking his crazy eyes off of her.

That’s what it was. He must have been insane. There was no other explanation.

“I did say it,” he repeated with that maddening calmness of his. “Because from the moment I saw you, I wanted to watch you come for me. Usually I am not this forward,”

“I find that hard to believe!” she hissed hysterically, but he ignored her,

“But I feel like you are a little sad, probably tired, and doing your best. And you haven’t been loved, or admired for a long time. And you deserve it. So, climb on my lap, while they watch the cartoon, and I will make you come. 

“I am good at it,” he assured her needlessly.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she was trying to form a thought and failing miserably. “I am sure you are!”

“I am,” he confirmed. “If you prefer, I will gladly eat your pussy, which I am sure is as sweet as a strawberry…though for that, maybe we should go to the bathroom?”

Elain was shaking her head mutely.

She was lost. And her ability to speak was gone. As was her ability to think.

Who dared say such things to someone they just met?

“Well, Mr…I am sorry, I don’t know your last name,” she said, her voice trembling with tension and embarrassment. 

“Night,” he offered sweetly.

“Of course. Mr. Night. This has been a very entertaining day. I’ve enjoyed meeting you, I think. But no, I will not sit on your lap and allow you to do…all that,” she waved her hand, refusing to actually repeat his words.

“I apologise if I embarrassed you,” he said seriously. “It was not my intention.”

She pursed her lips and didn't say anything.

“Truly, Elain, I guess I am sorry.”

She huffed, “You guess?”

“I mean, I am not sorry at all, but I suppose it’s the right thing to say under the circumstances. I am supposed to be contrite,”

Elain threw her hands up in the air helplessly. 

“Why are you so weird?!” she cried out. “Do you just say the first thing that comes into your head and you have zero self-control?”

“I have plenty of self-control,” he argued. “I am not presently bending you over the counter and filling you with my dick. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much you want to.”

“I don’t want that!” she argued, but her voice came out kind of breathy.

“Okay. But you are lying. And maybe scared. But you definitely have given it some serious thought. I don't know much, but I do know when a woman wants me.”

He got up from the chair and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Here it is–I want you. Like, a lot. The way I haven’t wanted anyone probably ever. And if I am reading you right, and I think that I am, you want me too. But, now that I understand a little more about your background, I imagine that you’d prefer a relationship, as opposed to just a sweaty, hot, passionate fuck.”

Elain just blinked at him, while he continued,

“But I am not going to pressure you or go all crazy stalker on you.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t thank me yet. Darius and I go for a walk in Wash Park, around the pond, every night at around 5:15pm. I get him nice and tired out for dinner and then hopefully, it will be quiet time for the night. 

“Anyway, like I said, I am not going to pressure you into anything. But if you want to see me again–see us–then hopefully you and Isa will come and join us for a walk. And then we’ll go back to my place and I’ll cook dinner. And then, you can stay over. Or not.

“Like I said, I am not one to waste time.”

The movie was almost over, and Elain got up, straightening her dress. 

Azriel stayed behind in the kitchen, watching her from his spot. 

“Hey guys!” Elain greeted them. “Did you have so much fun?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Well, I have a little parting gift for all of you,” she took something out from a little bag and announced, “friendship bracelets! You seven are all friends now, so choose a bracelet that you want to give your new friend.”

Little Darius got really confused by the instructions, taking a bracelet for himself, which he did not want to give up, and then someone else wanted it, so there was a decent amount of fighting that descended into tears.

Elain caught Azriel’s amused grin, as he watched the commotion, while cleaning up in the kitchen. He wasn’t helping her calm the masses, but he was washing the dishes, which was just as good. 

At last, Isa gave Darius his bracelet and he was placated. Elain took his delightfully fat arm and wrapped the bracelet over the fold around his wrist. He was watching intently as she lined the clasps and closed the bracelet on his hand. 

“Dada!” came the familiar call, and Darius took off, waving his arm around. “Dada! Look at! You love it? Isa give it to me.”

“This is a great friendship bracelet.” Azriel approved. “Who did you give yours to?”

“Tay!” 

“Did she like it?”

“Yeah,” Darius nodded, twisting his hand and admiring his bracelet. “Now I have many friends.”

Moms started coming over right about then, to pick up their daughters. They all, without fail, gave Azriel curious, somewhat frightened, but very intrigued looks. 

Meanwhile, Darius began cleaning up after the party, gathering all the spoons and forks, and bringing them to the kitchen without being prompted. Isabella followed suit, getting the cups, two at a time, while Darius returned to the den, and stacked the saucers and the plates in neat piles, tongue hanging out from concentration, while he stopped once in a while to admire his bracelet.

“Your son is unreal,” Elain whispered as she passed Azriel. 

He chuckled.

“What is he even? A damn miracle kid,” she continued, though she avoided any other topics of conversation, especially those of a more intimate nature, and only stuck to admiring the adorable toddler.

Azriel was washing the dishes methodically, his inked forearms wet and glistening, and somehow, extra attractive right now. 

“He does chores,” he said, while Darius ambled with three plates in his hands. “Somewhat badly, but he does them.”

“I think he does them perfectly!” Elain announced firmly. 

Once the dishes were washed, dried and put away, Azriel wiped his hands and called, “Dar, time to go, buddy.”

“We can’t stay, da?” Darius asked sadly.

“I think we need to let Elain rest. She’s been working really hard and made this gorgeous party for you guys.”

“Yes! Thank you, Lain!” Darius yelled.

“You are welcome, sweet boy,” Elain stroked his head. “Go get your cap.”

“No friendship bracelet for me?” Azriel’s low, sexual voice was suddenly right behind her, and Elain jumped, realising that he was standing behind her. His face dipped lower and his nose made a long, gentle swipe along her cheek. 

Heart pounding, she felt her nipples harden and Azriel’s proximity made her pant-y. She was stifling the urgent need to moan.

“I have one for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear softly. Then he reached and took her wrist in his huge hand, before slipping a plain silver band from his wrist, and closing it over hers. He wore a bunch of bracelets–mostly silver, some leather, some linked and knotted, others just bands, and this one was from his collection.

“Very nice,” he admired his bracelet on her hand and then stepped around, facing her. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, his eyes hooded and warm.

He slowly lifted his hands and cupped her face between them.

“I was honest when I said that I would not push you,” he murmured huskily. “But until you tell me ‘no’ and until I hear it from your own lips that you are not interested, I will remain as into you as I am right now. Infatuated. Flabbergasted. You brought me to my knees without even trying. And until you tell me otherwise, I would want to fuck you and make you mine. I promise you that your tight little pussy will be mine. And this fucking glorious ass. And your pink mouth, which looks like a half-open tulip. I want every hole. Every crevice. Every damn fucking bit of you, down to your soul. And I will have it. Because we’ve been written in the stars, baby.”

He looked down at her, and just when Elain thought that he was going to kiss her, he softly pressed his lips to her forehead and then let go of her.

Darius arrived with his flat cap on his head and then he took Azriel’s hand.

“Bye Lain! Bye Isa. You be good.”

Elain, who could barely breathe since Azriel’s wildly inappropriate and heated words, only managed to nod, as she watched the father and son open the door and walk out.

To be continued

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elainarcheronweek2023 #elainarcheronweek #Princess Tea Party #Elriel fanfiction #Elain Archeron fanfiction #ACOTAR fanfic #Modern AU

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Eating Out Elain Archeron HC

Pairing: Elain Archeron x HighFae!Reader

Warnings: femxfem, oral (female receiving), elain getting absolutely drunk from orgasm after orgasm, may be ooc!elain, this is my first time writing for her, first time elain getting her p ate 😂😂

Definitely will be her first sexual experience after the Cauldron changed her into that of a high fae(and also her first experience with a female)

feel like Elain would be a bit of a prude since she’s only ever been with Graysen (who didn’t bother with her pleasure). She’d think faces did not belong anywhere near her crotch or she’d die of embarrassment

"But it's. . . it's so. . ." Her plump, pink lips fumble for words. "Gross."

Proving her absolutely fucking wrong

She's actually pretty vocal, her soft whimpers and little cries of overwhelming pleasure are puffed out in quiet breaths. She's practically incoherent, babbling nonsensically.

The smear of arousal against her glistening pussy lips smelled strongly of honey that you made a bit of a glutton out of yourself. Your face is an absolute mess of saliva and Elain.

And let us not bypass her perfect pussy that she shamefully had hidden away this entire time. A tulip. That's what it resembled. Her outer pussy lips were pink with the light brown pubic hair on the crown of it.

The squeal she let out when your mouth first made contact with her pussy was loud enough that surely someone could hear

Her thighs all but suffocate you as she wraps her legs around your head.

You wish you could paint like Feyre just so you could capture this moment in time. Elain's face was a bright beam of red, her lips parted to reveal the softness of her tongue and her teeth, her toes curling inward, eyes rolling back into her skull so that all you saw were the whites. The bloom of her blush even spread across her freckled, sun kissed, chest.

The cry she gave out as her mind explodes has you moaning against her pussy, the vibrations of it shoot through her and heighten her pleasure

And from that first time, Elain becomes (for like of a better term) pussy whipped. She can't get enough of your tongue writing pure poetry across her slick pussy. Sometimes she'll zone out while gardening or helping Nuala and Cerridwen when she starts to catch her mind drifting off to the thought of you lasciviously eating her pussy

She's still shy about it but will give you little hints when she's in the mood for you to go down on her. She's coy about requesting it from you. That would probably take longer for Elain to do but you were happy about this success.

#reader fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses series #acotar fandom #elain archeron #elain archeron x reader #elain archeron acotar #elain archeron fanifc #elain archeron fanfic #elain archeron fanfiction

[dawneternal]

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Masterlist

• Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

all aboard the crack ship???

do I agree with the ethics of sleeping with your brother's mate? Not personally. Did I trigger my own morality OCD by writing this? Maybe a little. Was it worth it? Who knows.

Constructive criticism welcome but please be kind.

• Warnings: wounds, blood, scars, violence. Eventually smut, 18+. if I missed anything please let me know.

• Ao3 link

One - flames in the dark

Two - shades of beauty

Three - thought for a thought

Four - something of yours

Five - be gentle with me

Six - kingslayer

Seven - a grand entrance

Eight - point taken

Nine - the last goodbye

Ten - unprecedented Elain

Epilogue

Alternate Ending

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #elain kingslayer #a court of silver flames #acosf #eris #eris vanserra #eris fanfic #eris fanfiction #eris acotar #eris x elain #Elain Archeron fanfic #Elain Archeron fanfiction #autumn court #pro eris vanserra #vanserra brothers #acotar crackship #acotar crack fic #hewn city

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel fluff #rhysand #cassian #azriel fic #lucien acotar #rhys acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris imagine #mor acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #elain archeron

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned.

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader.

Summary: After the Cauldron had transformed you and your sisters into High Fae, it takes some adjusting. But as life settles down, your left with searing normalcy and dealing with your sisters being grossly in love.

Warnings: None!

This is going to be part of a ongoing series! Feel free to send over any other ideas!

Requests are open!!

part two part three part four Masterlist

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You were happy for your sisters. Truly. Feyre had found Rhysand and made her life here better than anything you could have imagined back home in the rundown cabin you had grown up in. Nesta, well she was still Nesta. But now she had Cassian. And they were annoyingly in love.

But here you were. Sitting in the gardens with your only other single sister, book perched in your lap as you get distracted watching how Elain floats gracefully through the gardens. She had a few smears of dirt across her cheek, and a light sweat sheen made it look like she was glowing as the sunlight hit her. The sound of footsteps echoed as someone approached the gardens. Looking over you saw Azriel standing there- noting how he purposefully made himself known before entering. He doesn't bother to look in your direction at first, his eyes trained on where Elain was kneeling.

"Az!" Elain chirps, quickly standing and smoothing out her dress. Smiling up at the Shadowsinger. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Azriel had the faintest smile as he looked at Elain. "I wanted to make sure you were doing well." Finally he looks over in your direction. His hazel eyes meeting yours as he seemed to share the same sentiment towards you as well. Elain seemed to remember that you were there as well. Looking over at you, she gives an easy smile.

"I think we're doing well. What about you? y/n?" She asks overly sweet. And you knew your sister well enough to know she was telling you to answer and find a way out so she can be alone with Az.

Smiling as well, though admittedly tighter due to her sisters look. You understood her hesitance with her mate. But did she really not even respect the man enough to just flat out reject him? He clearly wasn't accepting her indifference as rejection. "I'm well." You nod, standing and stretching with a slight yawn. "I think I'm going to take a nap."

Elain winks at you, taking Azriel's arm as she tugs him further into the gardens. Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you head upstairs toward the room Feyre had crafted just for you. And you couldn't lie. It was so nice to have your own room, your own space. A luxury you couldn't have ever imagined the nights you laid on the floor of the old cabin.

You were young when your mother passed. You had barely known what life was like before poverty. Just two years younger than Feyre, it had been enough to ensure that you couldn't read- but like Feyre you knew the Alphabet…at least somewhat. You wondered if you could teach yourself to read now? You look at the book you had in your hands and sighs. Tossing it aside, you just occasionally flipped through the pages to make it look like you were doing anything else but getting lost into your head. Letting yourself fall back onto your bed, looking up at the ceiling. Boredom was going to kill you. Not wanting to wither away just yet. You got up with a heavy sigh and decided to go find Nyx. If there had been nothing good about becoming a High Fae, he would be your shining light. He was the Archeron's pride and joy. You and your sisters argue over being the favorite Aunt. Nesta claims that since she saved his, and Feyre's life, she is automatically the favorite. You and Elain told her that Nyx doesn't know her yet so it's not a fair assumption. Secretly, deep down you know that you're the favorite.

Making your toward Rhys's office- where you knew Feyre tended to be around this time. Gently knocking on the door, "It's open!" Rhys answers and looks toward the door expectantly. Stepping in you give a small smile.

"I have come to steal your son." You joke, walking in and seeing the baby in Feyre's arms. Her and Rhys laugh as Nyx perks up at you reaching his little arms out. You can't help the smile growing on your face as you take him. "Well hello there, Nxyie!" You coo as you brush the hair out of his face. He babbles to you, and you nod along to it. As if it isn't just gibberish.

"Nothing exciting going on y/n?" Rhys asks, standing from his desk as he wraps an arm around Feyre and presses a kiss to her temple. You shake your head.

"You're welcome to join us, we were just about to go out to lunch." Feyre offers, her smile is soft and sweet. She was practically glowing here. Gently you shook your head.

"Nah, when's the last time you guys had some alone time? I've got Nyx go enjoy." You give your sister and her mate a gentle smile. They look at each other- eyes glossing over as they talk to each other. You try and keep the ache in your heart out. Watching your sisters fall in love was the best thing that ever happened to you, to them. You were so insanely happy for them it was sometimes hard to remind yourself that mates take time. And yours would be out there, and you'd find them one day.

Feyre turns to you, "If you're okay with watching him then we'd be happy to take you up on the offer. "

"I can compen-" Rhys begins but you cut him off before he can continue.

"He is my nephew, Rhysand." You hardly used his full name. Giving a playful glare as you turn away with Nyx, who giggles at the movement. "You don't have to pay me to watch him."

Feyre laughs and shrugs, looking up at him. "I told you she wouldn't accept." Rhys hands his hands up defensively.

"Don't say I didn't try." He gives an easy smile to you and Feyre. In a few quick steps he presses a kiss to Nyx's head. "Behave for your Aunt." He tells him gently, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And you, call me if you need anything." You nod and smile as Feyre also quickly kisses Nyx's cheek and tells him that she loves him. Hugging you as they leave.

You look back at the infant in your arms. It was strange to how much this little guy looked like your sister, but there was so much more Rhys in him. He blinks his big blue eyes up at you. "Well Nyx. It's just me and you." You sigh and give an exaggerated shrug to jostle him- earning a giggle.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Laying on the floor, you continue to play with Nyx. His attention currently on a crinkly kids book. And you try to read the book with him- able to make out a few words.

"Pretending to read that one too?"

You jump as you whip around to see Azriel there. HIs face remains stoic, but his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. You wrinkle your nose at the Illyrian in front of you. "Spying on us?"

He raises any eyebrow and crosses the room, sitting next to you and picking up Nyx. Holding him up above him, "Hello Nyx." Nyx babbles in return and Azriel nods along as well. He looks back toward you as he lowers Nyx and passes him back the book. "He says that you were reading to him."

You smile, leaning back on your hands as you look at him. Raising an eyebrow while Azriel continues to look at you- you'd normally shy away under the Shadowsingers gaze. But for some reason today you can't seem to do that right now. "Is that so?"

Azriel simply nods. "But if you ask me, I think you were just fake reading to him."

If there was one person who had picked up on your inability to read. It would have been the Spy master himself. "What makes you think that?"

Not expecting the challenging tone from you, you could swear that Azriel looked shocked for a second. But he leans forward, equally as challenging. "What is your book about?"

Shit. You blink, what would make it so he wouldn't question you? "…romance. Pure. Filthy romance. I got it from Nesta." You lie quickly and pray to the Mother that he believed you.

Azriel nods, seeming satisfied with that answer. "You ran out of the garden quickly." He notes. You could have sworn that as you looked at him leaning back there was a…sadness to his voice. But that would be ridiculous. He was in love with Elain.

"I wanted to give you and Elain time." You shrug, looking back at Nyx who is now smashing two trucks together. You take one of the rubber ducks on the floor, setting it on your nephew's head.

"I went out there to talk to both of you."

You don't dare to look at him. "Is something wrong?"

"…No." He says after some contemplation. Taking another duck and setting it on the babes shoulder. Nyx seemed unbothered by it. Continuing to smash the trucks.

"Then, no harm no foul. Right?" You smile as you look back over at Azriel. And the spy master didn't flinch at your words, but something told you that he didn't agree.

"I suppose." He nods. Getting up and bowing to you. "Goodbye Nyx, Goodbye y/n."

You scoop up Nyx and make him wave, trying to ease the tension. "Say bye-bye Uncle Az!"

And there was a hint of a smile from Azriel before he turned and walked out. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: This was a lot of exposition, but I swear that there is more drama coming up!!

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #elain archeron #elain x lucien

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Do Your Worst

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s lover is having a hard time, but no amount of acting out can push him away

Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)

Notes: Sorry for the silence, I’ve been having terrible writer’s block but I think I did okay with this one!

Image Credit: Pinterest

Today was rubbish. Probably one of her worst days yet. 

It had been exactly two months since Hybern captured her from Azriel’s post and took her to their war camp deep in the Spring Court’s woods. Exactly two months since she’d been tortured for information she’d die before giving up. Exactly two months since she’d made peace with her death. Rhys couldn’t track her immediately, Mor and Feyre’s searches came up empty each time, and even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up a clue. Azriel had driven himself mad, downright insane, trying to find her. Each day he spent every waking hour looking for clues, scouring the forests for her scent, and each day he returned to bed with nothing to show for it. It took Amren and Nesta a month to finally locate her. In that month she laid cut and bruised, chained to a wooden post like an animal, struck, cut, and burnt for every question she refused to answer. They left her in the middle of that camp, exposed to the heat of the day, the cold of the night, the rain, the wind, and the thunder. They made her into a spectacle. 

She only thought of her family, her Azriel, the entire time. My Azriel, she’d think each time they brutalized her. My Azriel, my Azriel, my Azriel. Rhys collapsed when she allowed him into her mind after they brought her home. He would never forgive himself for sending her on that mission, nor would he ever show his brother what she’d shown him, for Azriel very well would have sent Prythian to immediate war. 

And while the cuts, bruises, burns, and broken bones would heal completely, the skin of her back would forever be changed, marred with angry, raised scars from a heavy leather whip. She could barely walk. 

The first time Azriel saw the lashes on her back, he was helping her undress the night she returned home. Each movement caused her to cry out in pain. She tried to bite her lip, clench her fist, grip Azriel’s arm, tried anything to keep from crying, but nothing helped– the pain was too much. It would’ve been a mercy from the Mother to fall apart, limb by limb, bone by bone, instead. 

Azriel had seen all the other scars when Madja was working on her; those alone made him sick and wild with a hideous rage, potent enough to crumble the mountains surrounding the city into nothing more than powder on the ground. The lashes on her back– the thought of some wretched male stripping her and lashing a whip over her soft, warm skin in the mud and rocks– filled him with a fury so intense, so horrid, he could’ve wrapped his bare arms around the sun and pulled it down to earth. Set everything on fire. 

That very night, with names in his ear courtesy of the shadows and Cassian and Rhys positioned at her door, Azriel made each of those names pay. He was back by sunrise, tucked into bed beside her, wing draped over her restless body, and she was none the wiser. 

“You’re killing it,” Madja’s appointed physical therapist, Jarrah, encouraged as he watched her do her exercises. He was tall and muscled with glittering, golden-brown skin, looking ever the Summer Court high fae that he was. 

“It’s killing me,” she ground the words out, mincing each syllable as they passed through her teeth. Pain gripped her legs, lower back, and upper arms like a vise as she fought to complete a rep, the movements squeezing every last bit of energy out of her and collecting on the mat below in puddles of sweat. “I can’t do it, Jarrah.” 

“You can and you will,” he squared his shoulders at her, smile fading as he willed her to find her strength again. In recovery, he’d taught her, there were good days and there bad days– healing was not a linear process. 

Some days she did well in physical therapy and pushed herself– the pain only meant she was getting stronger. Azriel would be absolutely beside himself with pride and their friends echoed as much. 

Other days, her body seemed to give out in protest, the pain too unbearable, and she’d wonder if she’d ever be the same again. Azriel would encourage her– she knew it wasn’t pity– but she couldn’t stand it all the same. She’d collapse onto the floor against her will during physical therapy, shoving Jarrah away with shame when he’d tried to help her up each time. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dead of night, clammy, and nauseous from a nightmare that felt more and more real each time she had one. Azriel held her to his body whenever she’d jostle awake, heaving and shaking, stroking his warm hands up and down her arms. Other nights he held her hair back as she retched her dinner into the toilet, panting and crying silent tears. 

“To expect linearity is to set yourself up for failure,” Jarrah lectured during their very first session when all she wanted to do was get to the hard stuff, to prove that she was alright– that she was still whole. Jarrah did not mind her bad days, but something died within her every time she left training without making any notable progress– every time her body failed her when her mind seemed to be giving its all. 

From the moment they started their session this morning, Jarrah noted her body was fatigued and her mind was somewhere else. Oh dear.

“We can take a break–” 

“No!” She buckled down and held her position, determined to prove to herself that even on her worst days she could succeed. It was the most enthusiastic response Jarrah had gotten all session from her so he allowed it. He watched her body tremble from the strain, the sweat bead at her temples, the fatigue in her eyes as she fought the pain in her spine. 

Her body could not bear it anymore. She felt her traitorous legs give out beneath her and the ground came up faster than she could register, faster than Jarrah could react. A strangled cry crawled from her throat as she collapsed and her body trembled in a pain her mind could barely process. 

“Fuck,” a familiar voice rang out from the gym’s entrance and Azriel ran in. Just great. What was he even doing here? After the first training appointment in which Azriel could barely keep himself from choking out Jarrah and coddling her, he agreed to not interrupt her sessions thereafter. His disregard for their agreement made her feel so small. 

“Fuck,” Jarrah echoed. He was at her side in two steps, arms outstretched to help her up, but she scooted away as fast as her leadened arms would allow, turning her face away in shame. 

“Don’t touch me!” She croaked. 

Jarrah stopped himself by the time Azriel was at her side, crouching beside her and taking up what felt like all of the oxygen in her space. Breathe, she tried to remind herself but with Azriel hovering and Jarrah a foot away, both watching her crumpled pathetically on the mats, she couldn’t. 

“Are you alright?”

“Get her some water!”

“That’s enough for today, let’s get you some food.”

“... My love?”

Azriel’s soft voice pierced through her terrible thoughts. She felt his strong hands reach under her armpits to help her up but she pushed against his biceps, swatting him off in a desperate attempt to move away. But the pain made her so dizzy, it was difficult to create any real distance. 

“Don’t!” she cried out, for it was all she could do, and Azriel dropped his hands immediately. “I can get up on my own.”

Azriel didn’t move. Jarrah placed a comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “We should give her some space.”

Azriel clenched his jaw but it didn’t stop the twitching of his upper lip. He stood abruptly, swiveling on his heels so his face was only mere inches from Jarrah’s, who’d since quickly retracted his hand to himself. To his credit, he kept his shoulders square, but even he wasn’t immune to the pure threat in the Shadowsinger’s glare. 

“My mate is in pain, she can’t even stand up, and you want to leave her like this?” He growled. 

Anger grappled her lungs, stealing whatever air she’d managed to collect. That was the problem. “I can stand up, Azriel. I’m not made of glass.” 

It took her a few minutes, but she did it. She first rotated her hips so she was on her hands and knees. With one foot underneath her, she pushed herself up, trembling, sighing, moaning as her body resisted the upward movement, but she finally stood. 

Azriel clenched his hands at his sides to anchor himself back, to resist from helping her. He knew she was capable of doing anything, that she didn’t really need him. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to pursue her all those years ago was because she was so independent that it intimidated him. Azriel wasn’t sure what he brought to the table, what he could do better that she already did for herself, how he would fit into the life she’d built for herself. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he would still do anything for her. It didn’t take away that primal need to protect her. He tried his best not to suffocate her but sometimes he couldn’t help his instincts when his love for her outweighed everything else.  

She allowed Azriel to link his arm with hers as she waved goodbye to Jarrah, silently apologizing for Azriel’s outburst. 

“Let’s get you something to eat, yeah?” His voice was soft as he led her out of the gym and to the townhouse’s sunlit sitting room. “You did so good today, love.”

“I’m not hungry.” Was all she replied. She couldn’t stomach anything after such a rubbish session. Fear that she would never be the same ever again set in, but nobody would understand. No one could even fathom what it would do to her if she couldn’t keep doing her job, going on these missions, protecting this city. If she was relegated to a desk for the rest of her life, she’d have lost everything she’s ever worked for.

“Sure you are. At least something small to keep the medicine down.” 

Madja had her on a cocktail of herbs and elixirs– something for the pain, something for the scars, probably something for how fucked her mind had become– she couldn’t keep track. Azriel kept track for her. She swallowed the pills and the bitters he gave her and allowed him to rub the salve into her scars before bed. Whatever. This was life now– being shoddily held together by some combination of antibiotics, gauze, and ointments. 

She shook her head in defiance and Azriel sighed, stopping her just before the doorway to the living room where the rest of their friends sat. She was so stubborn– if she didn’t want to do something, no one could get her to do it. It was a quality he admired but also a quality that drove him downright mad at times like this.

“What’s bothering you?” 

“You mean besides healing at a snail’s pace and sitting on my ass all day in this house while everyone else goes to work– fulfills some sort of purpose? I’m doing just great.” The smile did not reach her eyes. 

Azriel tilted his head as if to say No, really. I know there’s something else. He could read her like a damn book– it had always been that way. 

She hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I don’t know if I’ll be the same ever again.”

Azriel’s face softened at the anxiety that weighed on her shoulders so heavily they sagged. 

“Of course you will, love. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s been two months and I can’t even climb the stairs without needing a break. My body hurts by the time I go to bed. I can still feel my back– the scars–” the words caught in her throat and she quickly cut herself off before she choked on them, unable to talk too much about it without feeling her body and mind repulse. 

“Come here,” Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her frame and pulled her into his body so close their hearts beat in sync before each other as if in private conversation. “The physical training, the medicines, the therapist, you’ve got it all going on. No one here is working harder than you right now.”

“But what if it isn’t enough,” she mumbled into his chest, a single hot tear catching on the fabric of his sweater. She turned her face into his chest to wipe the tear away completely and Azriel’s heart broke for her. He wished he could reach into her chest and pull out the pain with his bare hands, fly with it to Ramiel and drop it at the peaks where it could never find its way back to her ever again. “You know better than anyone, you could do everything right and it still wouldn’t matter. I just need to get better. Be myself again.”

“I will love you no matter what happens. Even if you are never the same, I will still love you. This changes nothing.”

She pushed him away abruptly, hastily wiping away tears as if Azriel couldn’t see them. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him, about him loving her. This was her life. If she couldn’t get back to who she was, fill the roles she’d spent her whole life caring about, where would she stand among her family? Where would she stand in this life? In this world? 

“But it changes everything for me,” her eyebrows furrowed incredulously. “I want my body back, my mind back. Thanks for letting me know you’d still love me if I were to be this fucked up forever, but that’s literally the last thing on my mind right now, Azriel. I don’t want to be fucked up forever, I want to get better, and I need you to want that for me too.”

Azriel tried to find the right words, stuttering in his search to say the right thing. He didn’t mean it like that. He only ever wanted the best for her– would kill for her to have what’s best for her. “I-I didn’t mean–”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She huffed, storming past him into the sitting room. Instant guilt flooded her as soon as she left him. Azriel helped however he could. Perhaps it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t put himself in her shoes in this very situation, but he’d gone through something traumatic too, and Azriel definitely knew a thing or two about helplessness. Still, she felt so alone. Azriel tried, but he wouldn’t understand what it was like to be a woman tortured in a camp full of males. What that took from her. She wouldn’t explain it. 

Azriel watched her storm off, feeling as if he was failing her all over again. Every night, he watched the dullness in her eyes grow as he handed her the medicines. When she laid down in their bed with practiced monotony so he could rub the salve into the scars stretched across her back, he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. They were nasty things, raised and swollen with blood and she flinched every time he touched them, as if he were delivering the lashings all over again. She was hurting and he felt so helpless. He vowed to always protect her and take away her pains but he could do neither of those things and the thought of it ate him alive everyday. Only the Mother knew the true lengths he’d go to for her. That man would do anything. 

In the sitting room, Azriel brought her a sandwich that he put together in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen insisted that would make it, but he politely refused. He wanted to be the one to do it. 

“Az, I told you I’m not hungry,” She murmured as he handed her the plate. 

“You need to eat something if you want to keep the medicines down,” He reasoned again. 

“I know what Madja said, I was there,” She snarked, crossing her arms. She was so tired of people telling her what to do. Jarrah telling her what exercises to do, Madja telling her what medicines to take, Rhys telling her that she shouldn’t try to work again so soon, Feyre telling her she should take more walks, Cassian telling her to drink less wine, Azriel forcing her to eat more food. 

“Okay, darling,” He placed the plate on the table when she wouldn’t take it from him. 

“Turkey and swiss, okay!” Cassian peeked at the sandwich, nudging her arm. “And he cut it in half too.”

“Just the way she likes it. In half though, not diagonal– too much crust in one bite if it's cut diagonal,” Azriel smiled from where he sat across the table from them. She could have cried at the sight of him, at the love in his eyes, in his voice. Words were never his strong suit but Azriel more than made up for it in acts of service. This was how he showed his love. This was him reaching his hand out, begging for her to take it, to let him in. To let him help. 

And she didn’t know why she had such a hard time letting him in. She didn’t want to seem incapable of anything, and letting herself fall apart the way Azriel would allow her to terrified her. She’d never fallen apart before. She didn’t know how she could do it without completely tearing herself and every past wound open again. It broke her heart to watch his smile falter when she didn’t reach for the plate. 

“I’m going to bed,” she stood up as quickly as her body would allow and left the room. It was too much. Azriel’s disappointment, everyone’s expectations, watching her, studying her, readying themselves to be there for her if she did explode. She never needed this much attention in the past– to receive so much of it all of a sudden made her feel like she was made of porcelain and everyone was expecting her to shatter at any moment. She could hardly breathe in that room and needed to get out before something within her cracked further. 

The stairs loomed before her, mocking with how many there were. Grabbing the bannister until her knuckles paled, she hoisted herself up one step at a time, maneuvering her body so that her entire weight wouldn’t be on one leg for too long. 

Nesta appeared behind her, climbing the steps she’d taken over the course of minutes in just mere seconds, with a stack of books in one arm and a handful of her gown in the other. Nesta stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around and looking down at her through long eyelashes. 

“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted. 

“Fuck off,” she meant to sneer, but it came out in a breathless huff instead. Pathetic indeed.

 Nesta let her skirts fall from her right arm as she extended it toward her. 

“I don’t need your help.”

“You definitely do.”

“Don’t you have those smutty little novels to get back to?”

“Shut the fuck up and take my arm, or bust your ass on these stairs, I don’t care.” 

Begrudgingly, she took Nesta’s arm. Neither of them spoke, but Nesta patiently guided her up the stairs, supporting her where she needed it. Out of the entire Inner Circle, she got along the most with Nesta. Their conversations usually followed a very similar pattern as this one did, but only because they each saw a little piece of themselves in the other, even if they never mentioned it. 

“Heard you being a bitch downstairs,” Nesta finally spoke when they cleared the last stair and stood at the landing so she could catch her breath. 

She couldn’t find it within herself to take offense. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. I don’t know why I do this,” she confessed. She didn’t need to explain further. Nesta automatically understood. When they locked eyes, that silent comprehension flowed between them again and for the first time since arriving back home from the war camp, she felt relief. The kind of relief that made your heart beat out of your chest and go a little dizzy. The kind of relief that came from being completely understood without having to spend the energy trying to put the thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words. 

“I know. It’s not your fault.” The words fell softly from Nesta’s lips. It was the last thing she said before she led her to the library. They sat in arm chairs across the fireplace and read for hours in each others’ company. No one came looking for her. No one tried to force a plate of food down her throat. No one wanted her to do those stupid mobility stretches. Nobody was asking her if she was okay. It was everything she needed. So why did she still feel restless, like something was missing?

Azriel.

She left the library after she’d calmed down. In the quiet, amongst the books, when she thought that was all she needed, she felt misery instead. She needed Azriel. She wanted to lay in bed with him forever, feel his skin on hers forever, stay in his warmth forever, feel their heartbeats sing side by side forever. Azriel forever. Nothing else would compare. 

When she reached their room, it was empty. Disappointment flooded her chest, but she knew Azriel was giving her space. As she moved closer to the bed, she found a new plate of food waiting beside a note. A remade sandwich, cut down the middle as always. 

Your favorite. Was all the note said. 

Indeed it was. She polished off the sandwich in a matter of minutes, as ravenous as she was. Actually, she was hungry when Azriel first offered one to her in the sitting room, but she was too stubborn to take it then. 

The bath towel beside the note on the bed was warm to the touch. From the soft sound of trickling water in the bathing room, she knew he’d run her a bath. The air above the tub smelled of sandalwood– his scent. As she stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water, the scent encompassed her as if he was in the room with her right then, waiting to join her. 

Surely, an hour or two must have passed. Her eyes pried open, the water and soap around her body in the tub still warm and feathery like a winter duvet. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, only that it was the best sleep she’d gotten these past two months. For the first time since coming home, she slept with no nightmares and no nausea to rouse her from rest. She didn’t even dream. She simply passed out.

When she finally left the bathroom, her body wrapped in the towel he’d warmed for her, she found Azriel sitting on the bed with a book nestled in his large hands. As she stepped through the doorway of the bathing room, he looked up, smiling softly. Pure love shone in his eyes like a beacon, flashing and blinking in the darkness that war camp left her in. 

At the sight of his soft smile, the gentleness of his features, the relaxed sag of his shoulders, she felt something break. 

Sensing a shift in her demeanor, he lowered the book, eyebrows knitting together. 

"What's wrong?"

Those two damned words. She bit the inside of her cheek, walking weakly to Azriel's side of the bed. He placed his book on the nightstand and sat up straighter, anticipating her next move. 

She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and laid her upper body against his torso, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his body tightly, breathing him in like he was the oxygen she lived off of. Anything else, anything that was not Azriel, and she could just die right there. 

He brought his arms around her tightly, heart sinking when he felt her hot tears on his neck. She did not shake. She did not sob. He only felt the wetness on his skin and the erratic heaving of her chest against his as she fought to regulate her breathing.

He did not say anything else. He held her, unmoving except to rub her back or run his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair. His other hand held the back of one of her thighs to keep her in place as she grew increasingly limp in his arms. 

"I've been such a wretch." Her voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I've been such a wretch to you. I'm sorry Az."

"Oh my love," He held her as close as he could, willing her to feel the love he held for her in his chest. His love for her ran everywhere his blood did, from his toes to the top of his head, every day and every second, his astonishment of her coursed his body like an electrical current keeping him alive. Without her,  there was no pulse. 

"How do you put up with me?" He felt her wipe her nose on his shoulder and he couldn't help the smile on his lips.

"Because I love you, and I know your anger has nothing to do with me."

"But you should not have to put up with it."

"I will put up with anything when it comes to you. You don’t ever have to worry about that when it’s you and I,” He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes. “You went through something horrible. You’re going to need time to work through it all, but I will be here for every moment of it. I’m sorry if I’ve been suffocating you, darling. I only do it because I can’t help it. When I see you hurting I wish I could take all of it from you and put it in me.”

“I never want you to hurt,” she told him earnestly. The thought of him going through what she did filled her with rage so sudden and consuming she couldn’t begin to imagine what Azriel felt when they finally found her at the camp. 

“I could never when I have you looking out for me,” He smiled that cheeky, boyish smile that came out so rarely. 

“I’ve just been having so many bad days. I should be happy that I’m back home, that I’m safe now. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, and it comes out at the wrong times in the wrong ways. But I don’t know what I’d do without you, Az.” 

“Even on your worst days, you’re the best of us. So do your worst. I can handle it." 

The disbelief in her eyes melted away when he cradled her head, smiling earnestly– and gods, she wished she could commission Feyre to paint him like this– a man smitten. With all the tonics and creams Madja had forced on her, she had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would truly heal her. They helped the symptoms, but never the cause. She’d accepted that it would take a damn miracle to heal the cause. And here Azriel was, pleading and lovely, looking like her damn miracle. 

She let him undo the towel from around her body and lay her into the soft covers, warm from where he sat while she was in the bath. Turning over, Azriel smoothed the salve over her scars as he did every night. But for the first time in months, she finally replied to his attempts at starting conversation as he worked. For the first time in months, she laughed genuine laughs that felt only slightly foreign– much like old friends– in her throat. For the first time in months, as he tenderly slicked Madja’s balm over her scars, praying to the Mother for her health over each one he touched, she did not flinch. 

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #rhysand #rhys acotar #cassian #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #amren acotar #mor acotar #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar series

[soulessjourney]

Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!

Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N

Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.

I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.

Exile

Paring: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.

Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)

If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.

The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.

When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.

Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.

You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.

Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.

Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.

Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.

Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.

"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.

Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.

"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.

"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.

You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.

You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.

Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?

"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.

Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.

"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.

"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.

A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.

Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.

“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.

Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.

“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.

Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.

As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.

---

It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.

You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.

"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.

A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.

"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.

A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.

"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.

“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.

Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.

---

The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.

When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.

Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.

Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.

“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.

Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.

Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.

You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #elain archeron #morrigan #mating bond #acotar fandom #acotar series #angst #reader insert #sarah j maas #eris vanserra #azriel angst #azriel and elain

[berryzxx]

can i request an Azriel x reader where Elain and Azriel get too close and reader get's jelous so sits on the opposite end of the table and he has to apologise and everything. Thankss

(u dont have to do it )

It's always going to be you

(I've changed abit of it but there's still "apologising and everything") also if u see any mistakes NO YOU DIDN'T. :) xx

Summary: You and Azriel spend less time with each other and soon it seems he spends more time with Elain- apologising and fluff

Azriel x reader

I watched, holding my breath as Elain let out a small laugh at something Azriel said, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. Did she need to do that? No, she probably didn't. But I let it go because she was getting better now. Her smiles were more frequent and if she found my mate funny then fine. I wouldn't be jealous about it.

Another week later and Elain and Azriel were walking the streets of Velaris. I had paused in my tracks to watch them, their heads bent together talking about something important it seemed. It felt like I hadn't gone shopping with Az in so long let alone have a nice conversation that lasted longer than a minute. They seemed comfortable together. Fine. As long as they were both happy there was no reason for me to jump to conclusions.

It was game night and Elain and Azriel had paired up. Yes, they were playing chess against each other but they chose each other and left me on the side lines, merely part of the audience. I wasn't even give a second glance. "Y/n? Aren't you going to play?" Cassian asked from where he was sat on the sofa, one arm around Nesta the other holding a glass of wine.

I shook my head "I'm tired. Maybe next time" I turned to look back at Azriel because like usual I was drawn to him. It seemed he was unaffected by our bond now because he hadn't even looked at me once throughout the entire day. The longer I stared the harder it was to fight back tears. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to leave, Nesta being the only one who listened to my made up excuse. I walked out the house and rubbed my hands together, my feet taking me to the bench I had sat on so many times. Luckily I was smart enough to grab hold of a thick shawl before leaving. The Sidra was as beautiful as always, lights glowing around the area, Fae spilling out of different bars across the street.

I pulled the shawl closer to me and tried to enjoy the sight in front of me rather than my mind going back to things I didn't want to think about.

Where are you?

Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Sweetheart please. Are you allright?

Azriel's voice, panicked and full of fear in my mind. The spiteful thing to do would be to ignore him and build a barrier between the both of us but because I was never able to see or hear Azriel worry for so long I replied with

I'm fine

I went home for the night, enjoy yourself

I blocked him out. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

Of course if someone asked if I still loved him I would have replied with a "yes" in a heartbeat. Maybe we just needed space. Or maybe I was being dramatic. It's not as if I had walked in on them kissing or something.

"Fancy seeing you here, y/n" Someone said. I had to blink away my sleepiness and try and find the source of the voice. It was Keller. A friend who I usually had lunch with when I was in town or needed someone to help me translate a piece of text.

I gave him a warm smile, his blonde almost silver hair shining in the street lamps.

"Is there a seat free?" He gestured next to me at the empty bench but before I could answer a loud thud was heard behind me and without having to turn around I could tell who it was. He must have hidden his scent because otherwise I would have known he was coming this way earlier.

"Apologies, but the seats taken. You should get going now" Azriel's voice was tight and full of anger, one wrong answer from Keller would result in things that were too gruesome too think of.

Still, he hesitated, looking between me and Azriel who was behind me and probably sending daggers at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night" I gave him an awkward smile, trying to reassure him.

"Right. Enjoy your time." And with a nod "Shadowsinger" He walked away soon disappearing behind a corner. I didn't bother turning around and instead waited for Azriel to show himself. His footsteps were light as his form came into view, blocking the scene of the Sidra. He stood there for a good minute or so evaluating every inch of me with his piercing eyes. His shadows moved away from him, coming to brush against me as if they were checking if I was ok as well.

"Are you all right? Your not hurt are you?" His voice was soft, a great contrast to the tone he was using with Keller a second ago.

I sighed "Physically, yes"

He took this as a chance to sit down next to me, making sure there was a small distance between us. As if he wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't sure either. I wanted space but I also wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright.

"I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been taken. I thought I wouldn't see you again" Azriel's voice was quiet and almost broken in a way. I turned to look at him, to see if he was the same Azriel as a few weeks ago.

"What's happened to us?" I asked. I didn't know either but there was one thing I knew and that was something had changed.

As soon as the words escaped me, Azriel froze. His breathing coming to a stop and his eyes focused completely on me and my breathing. For the first time in my life I heard him stumble over his words "what...what do you mean?" He asked, his voice so quiet and full of worry. His shadows paused their constant movement around me and froze as well, their touch now cold.

I wrapped my arms around me, the shawl suddenly not doing much to block the cold out properly "Don't you feel as if we've grown apart? Like...maybe we aren't as close as we used to be?"

I couldn't look at him while saying that. Instead I let my head fall back so I could look at the comforting sight of the stars. Something that was always there. I felt a slight shift to my right where Azriel moved closer to me, his wings coming to wrap around me.

I looked at him, opening my mouth to thank him for the warmth but before I could say anything his shaky voice interrupted me "I love you. I will always love you. I am so sorry you felt as if I wasn't giving you enough time. I know you deserve more than I could ever-"

I put my hand up to stop him "It's not about that. It's about you always being with Elain. Tell me, Azriel. How long has it been since we've been shopping together? How long has it been since you've come home when I'm not asleep because it's the middle of the night? How long will this go on? This back and forth of me waiting for you while you go off with Elain doing who knows what"

I felt his heart beat increase with every word I said and as I let it all out I felt full of guilt. I was being irrational and dramatic. And Azriel didn't deserve it. We had been through so much and I was complaining about him not spending time with me

"sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...got carried away" I looked away from him. He looked heartbroken and I had done that to him.

A silent minute passed before Azriel broke it by picking me up and winnowing us to his room

"what? what are you doing?" I asked, disoriented from the winnowing. I sat on his bed, trying to get used to the soft lighting in his room.

He sat next to me and held my hands in his, warmth seeping through me "I could never cheat on you, sweetheart. I'd rather shred my wings than hurt you. You understand that...don't you? There is nothing between me and Elain and there never will be. I'm sorry you felt that way" He pressed a kiss to my hand, his eyes golden in the light. The way he looked at me made me think, how could I have doubted him?

"I know you aren't cheating. Of course I know that but why does it feel like you spend more time with her than me?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer. Maybe it's because I've become boring now after all these years.

"My love, your the one who told me to help her. You told me spend time with her because she seemed to like my company. I did it for you, sweetheart. Don't you think I'd rather spend my time with my beautiful mate?"

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's always going to be you."

I leaned into his comforting warmth and let my doubts and fears wash away. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Az"

"you had every right to" He mumbled back, his arms now encircling me completely. I felt safe and wanted in his arms, like nothing could ever go wrong.

-> Masterlist <-

(KEEP IN MIND I LOVE ELAIN EVERYONE. my personal opinion is she should end up with lucien)- as usual not proof read

#azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel spymaster #azriel supremacy #fluff #apologising #berryfics #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x y/n #elain #azriel x oc #acotar fic #berryreplies #acomaf #acowar #nesta #cassian #nesta archeron #azriel x reader angst #acotar x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x reader fluff

[shadowdaddies]

Here's my ACOTAR masterlist! I'll keep my posts linked here. 🩶

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Azriel

Cassian

Rhys

Eris

Lucien

Helion

Feyre

Nesta

Elain

Mor

Tarquin

Amren

Poly Fics

the beautiful dividers on my blog are by saradika-graphics

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #acotar smut #acotar fluff #rhysand #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #eris imagine #eris x reader #nesta acotar #nesta x reader #elain acotar #elain x reader #morrigan x reader #mor acotar #azriel acotar #nesta archeron #acotar cassian #cassian #rhys acotar #acotar rhysand

[hellwantfuckme]

disgust, longing, jealousy

summary: everything points to Azriel loving Elain, so why does Eclipse feel that pull towards him?

warnings: angst(?

author's note: idk if this is good, I don't know if it's swallowable, pls keep remembering english isn't my first language:)

A feeling akin to disgust lodged itself in her chest, took root, and gripped, while the brown eyes, which always reflected what Eclipse felt, looked at the perfect image, the polar opposites. And the truth hurt, it weighed on her like a burden on her lungs, they fit together.

Elain's smile, full of shining teeth, the brown gaze that was a reflection of her own, fixed on the man sitting next to her. He was closer to Elain than he had been with Eclipse in months. It was purely Eclipse's fault, but that didn't make it any more manageable. The sound of Elain's laughter was soft, low. As if the two of them were sharing a secret. If Eclipse had been paying attention to the conversation she was supposed to be part of, she wouldn't have heard it. She wouldn't have noticed the way the Shadowsinger looked at Elain, a satisfied gleam in his eyes, a genuine half-smile. But Eclipse couldn't help but notice that his eyes didn't have even a quarter of that gleam that they had when they made her laugh. She dismissed the thought. She had one evidence after another of the obvious, Azriel liked Elain. Only Elain. That's why she kept her distance, that's why she had completely ignored Azriel's presence today, the first time they had seen each other in weeks.

The sound of Elain's giggles reached her again, and she watched as Azriel leaned only subtly to whisper something that only made her smile even bigger.

Eclipse wanted to vomit.

She looked away. As much as her gaze was drawn to them, sharing a seat on the brown couch, she forced herself to focus on the person who was talking, Cassian. She didn't realize it was him telling the anecdote until she saw his lips moving to utter the words, he was also smiling, probably for a different reason. But the slightest furrow of the brow found a home on his face. A suspicious sideways glance, that was all Cassian dedicated to Eclipse. As if he had noticed how her attention had been on Elain and Azriel, with a carefully neutral expression. Eclipse heard a laugh in the background, Mor, quickly identified. The alcohol making her feel more free, her voice trembling imperceptibly.

Eclipse knew that Cassian suspected something, but as the careful person she was, she made sure to push down what she felt. Disgust, longing, jealousy. She pushed and pushed until there was no trace of it visible in her sharp features, until it seemed that she had just been momentarily distracted by the sound of her cousin's laughter and wondered what had caused it. Putting it all together in her head, the perfect excuse, the perfect reactions, helped her maintain, at least, a faint semblance of strength for herself. She still had control over something, at least. Or so she wanted to convince herself as she reached for the coffee table, took the barely touched wine glass, and took a sip. Her gaze dancing between Mor and Cassian, between the exchanged words.

Eclipse didn't know if keeping up the act made her a bad person, if that disgust she felt really only should be directed at herself. How could the sound of her cousin being happy disgust her?

She had distanced herself from Azriel, just as she had from Elain. She had accepted the invitation to live in the newly built house of Feyre and Rhys, only because it would avoid both of them. She hoped, even though in a corner of her mind it was nothing more than a foolish thought, that whatever her problem with both of them was would dissipate with space. That corner of her mind was the same one that told her that no matter how much time, or space, she could put between them, the feeling would persist.

Eclipse needed another sip, and then another. And the air in the room became heavier, the crackling of the logs in the fireplace became louder than the voices, and her skin was overheated. Eclipse exhaled.

She tried not to tense up when the melodic sound of Elain's laughter reached her ears again, a low murmuring following it, as if Azriel continued with the joke.

The pain in her chest thickened, for a moment, Eclipse felt it thicken so much that she wouldn't be able to get out of it. Because it was Elain he was making laugh, because the pull in her chest towards him urged her to approach.

She didn't understand. But what did she understand at this point? Eclipse stood up from the chair, clearing her throat.

"I think I'll go outside for some fresh air," she murmured. Her voice weak, her eyes fixed on nowhere as she made her way out of the room. She didn't look at anyone, didn't let anyone see the reflection of pain in her eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Cassian asked. Eclipse just hummed an affirmation, hurrying to lead her footsteps away.

She felt a gaze follow her, she knew whose gaze it was, because it was the one that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The ghostly touch of a shadow entwined itself around her wrist, and when Eclipse looked, the shadow was already fading, returning to its owner, she supposed.

She also faded from the room, like that shadow. Only she carried feelings.

Muscle memory guided her through the corridors of the House of Wind, quick steps until she reached the nearest balcony. A vast balcony that showed Velaris in the distance.

The stars shone above her, Eclipse walked until she was facing the railing, her hands leaning on the cold stone, offering only a slight comfort. It was cold stone, not frozen, it wouldn't bite her skin, it wouldn't make her forget the oppression in her chest. Eclipse closed her eyes, exhaling the air from her lungs so slowly that she needed oxygen before she finished expelling it all.

«Yes, Eclipse. How discreet of you, you didn't leave the room like a drama queen just because you heard her laugh or anything.» her conscience scolded her sarcastically. She just lifted her chocolate gaze to the star-filled sky, letting the icy air fill her lungs.

Why? Why did everything have to be so complicated? She had met hundreds of men, and why, of all those, did she have to like the man who already had another woman in his heart?

Deep down she knew the answer. If she were selfish, she would say it was because he seemed made for her. In every sense of the word. He was everything she had been looking for, both consciously and unconsciously.

And he liked her cousin.

How ridiculous. It was simply ridiculous. She let out a sigh laden with anxiety, her elbows leaning on the railing and her hands covering her face, and then the long, well-cared-for nails crossed her hair.

Why? Hadn't the being that controlled her life's cruel joke seen her suffer enough? What more did they expect from her? What more could she do! She felt like shouting it to the sky.

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had missed the subtle change in the atmosphere, as the shadows in the right corner seemed to darken, and their movement became irregular. The only warning of Azriel's presence, before the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. The sound approached, until Eclipse could see from the corner of her eye Azriel's tall figure.

He didn't look at her, he stood by her side. Hands in his pockets as he gazed forward, exactly the same thing she had been looking at, the sky. Eclipse knew that if he had wanted to, he would have been silent. He probably would have made noise just to not startle her.

Eclipse exhaled, composed herself, leaving her cold hands on the railing, focusing her gaze elsewhere. If only she could control the way her heart fluttered as his scent, cedar and mist, filled her nostrils and lungs. It made her slightly dizzy. If only it wasn't inappropriate to approach, to breathe in a bit more of his scent. This was the first time they were so close in weeks, Eclipse wondered if he would bring up the subject.

The silence that accompanied Azriel was an invitation, unspoken by him, but it was there. Eclipse didn't feel like giving him any explanation, about anything, mostly because her tongue felt heavy, numb against her palate. And to mumble foolish words, Eclipse would rather not say anything.

The silence enveloped both of them, Eclipse looked down at her fingers while Azriel directed his towards her, a silent question. Eclipse's fingers nervously intertwined, and only after a few seconds, she relented. His gaze was so heavy that she just wanted him to stop looking at her, but as soon as he did, she would long for it. Because she was complicated, and he was a man who did not correspond to her secret feelings.

"I just needed some air," she murmured, without raising her gaze, hoping that was what he was looking for.

"Did Cassian smother you with his embarrassing stories?" he joked, or attempted to, his voice as smooth as silk holding a light, playful undertone. Her breathing became heavy.

Ah, so Cassian had been talking about that. Eclipse swallowed, with a very conscious change of opinion, she looked up, meeting his gaze. With his brow so subtly furrowed that it was imperceptible, with his eyes holding a worried gleam. For a moment, the world stopped. For just a moment he was the only one, while his gaze held hers, probing to see what he could find. At some point, they had been close enough for Azriel to realize how easily her feelings reflected in her eyes. He had always had an easy time reading her, as if she were an open book, and that seeded a thorn of fear.

She looked away after just a couple of seconds, feeling like he was probing every corner of her. Not that she wanted to let him see her vulnerability. She feared that, somehow, he could know. All those embarrassing feelings she harbored about him and Elain together.

"I suffocate myself, I don't need Cassian to say anything," Eclipse told him, a gentle shrug pretending to release some tension in her back.

Azriel didn’t miss the gesture, and he scrutinized her, as if wondering what had caused that tension. If perhaps it had something to do with him.

Eclipse licked her lips, not feeling brave enough to raise her gaze again. To meet his, not while her heart continued to beat frantically. She wondered if he could hear it.

And as if his shadows had heard her doubts, she felt something pressing against the fabric of her thin dress, just above her heart. As though they were trying to calm it, to say "you have nothing to worry about". And she wanted to tell them yes, she worried because she couldn’t like Azriel. That made her a horrible cousin, and also, stupid. Azriel, with a neutral, cold, and disciplined expression, hadn't given her even the slightest signal that he felt the same.

The shadows, as if they understood, left her chest, smoothly moving towards her intertwined hands on the railing. They offered a gentle caress, a gentle comfort.

Eclipse accepted that it was a good way to help her, tilting her head only slightly, with curiosity. "I'm sorry," Azriel breathed, his brow deeply furrowed. As if he had been making a great effort to subdue the shadows again, they finally relented.

"What are you apologizing for?" by the way Azriel looked at her, she assumed her tone must have reflected a little sadness at losing the wonderful shadows. "It's nothing," she assured him, with all the certainty she could muster. "They're...curious."

Azriel looked at her for a few more moments, drinking in every little gesture, every little reaction in Eclipse's face. As if he wanted to decipher whether she truly thought so.

Eclipse felt uncomfortable under Azriel's gaze, she simply sighed.

"I should go back inside."

"Why? Why should you?" Azriel's statement almost came out as an exclamation, and she hadn't expected it. She blinked, searching for a response. The silence settled between them once again, and Eclipse lowered her gaze. He exhaled through his nose.

"I'm sorry, Eclipse. I'm just trying to understand you."

His usual neutral features softened, his gaze becoming milder. Eclipse realized today the green predominated in those hazel eyes. Azriel hesitantly took a step towards her, and when she didn't move away, nor backed up in any way, he took another step. They were so close now, Eclipse's heart was pounding in her ears like a drum, and his scent was intoxicating. She considered stepping back, but a part of her urged her to stay, a small part hidden in her chest that seemed to connect her to Azriel by a thread, kept her in place.

She had to gently stretch her neck to look up at him due to his height, and he held her gaze.

"I don't know what you're trying to understand," Eclipse said, her voice weak and low. Her shoulders lifted a little as she spoke the words, even though she really knew what he meant. But acknowledging it would be like admitting everything she had been feeling for months, the whole labyrinth in her mind, one in which Azriel seemed to be lost, desperately trying to find a way out.

Although it was only the subtle desperation in his eyes that hinted at such a thing.

Eclipse looked away.

"You're avoiding me," Azriel stated, his voice holding a sad tone. Guilty, one that inevitably pressed a dagger against her. Eclipse feared to raise her gaze, to face all those emotions she had caused. But it was best for both of them. Better to keep a distance than to be uncomfortable in each other's presence.

"Is it because of something I've done?"

Eclipse was stunned, every muscle in her body tensed. Her brow furrowed. She was a coward, she knew it. She knew. No. How could it possibly be because of something he had done?

Azriel just pressed the tip of his finger under her chin, lifting it. Forced her brown eyes to meet his again. The way Azriel was looking at her almost took her breath away.

"Eclipse," he almost begged. "Tell me what happened, so that I can fix it."

Her eyebrows curved, Eclipse opened her mouth, but no sound came out so she simply closed it again. Eclipse took a deep breath, trying not to drown in his gaze. Trying not to drown in the feeling.

"It's not because of you, Azriel. It's not about you. I... There's no way I can explain it correctly."

"I'm sorry for distancing myself without telling you, I’m sorry for making you think it's your fault," Eclipse said, with every ounce of honesty in her body. "It's just that I can't..."

"You can't what?"

"I can't do this, Azriel. I just can't," the pressure in her chest increased, he didn’t know what she was talking about. His brows furrowed.

"It's already hard enough to ignore that pull that constantly drags me towards you. Don't make this any harder," she pleaded, and she knew she was saying too much. Her eyes stung.

"Eclipse, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about not being able to stay away from you, and you like Elain."

The truth hit her like a bucket of cold water. And Eclipse hoped, prayed, for a moment, that he would tell her that he felt the same pull too. That he also...

"Oh," Azriel took a step back, it was the largest gap they had left between themselves. It was hard for him to process. One second, two.

Horror crossed Eclipse's features momentarily. The rejection was clear. So clear. Eclipse felt a lump in her throat, one that she swallowed just to say the following words.

"You both deserve to be happy, and it seems like you're heading that way."

Eclipse said, her voice firmer than she could manage was barely a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

And he looked at her, as if still in disbelief. As if he was still processing it. Eclipse couldn't bear any more rejection, not when being there was a one-ton weight on her chest and her eyes stung.

She was just a fool, one who had fallen in love with the wrong male.

#acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x original character #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel x reader angst #cassian #cassian acotar #morrigan acotar #elain archeron #angst with a sad ending

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Evasively Yours

EVASIVELY YOURS | Azriel x Female!Illyrian!Reader (Part 2 of NEVER YOURS)

SUMMARY: The fallout after Azriel found out you were his mate, and that you kept it from him.

WARNINGS: Angst angst angst. I think I have found my true calling as an angst writer. Swearing. Rhys is the big brother we deserve. Azriel is a bit of an asshole and Mor is a gem.

WORDS: 2.6K

You wished you could stay at the mountain camps forever. The males were training the females as required, with you watching over their teaching techniques and helping the girls out when they needed it. You didn’t mind helping the females – some of them even seemed to be relieved in receiving your assistance. The females were all younger, with the oldest being twenty, and the youngest thirteen. You understood why the older females weren’t training – the backwards ways of the Illyrian people had been ingrained within them for too long.

You extended your stay from two days to three, to four, and on the fifth day, you could tell that you were not going to be welcome much longer. So you packed up, threatened Devlon a little bit, promised to be back to see how the females were faring, and left.

Up in the air, the wind pushed against your wings, almost as if it were telling you not to return to Velaris. Because in the city of starlight awaited the shadowsinger who seemed to want nothing to do with you. Which hurt. So much so, it hurt. There were many ways you could attempt to describe the shredding of your soul, but none of those descriptions would do the pain you felt justice. It was unbearable to think about… so you didn’t.

You arrived in Velaris just before sunset and landed out the front of the River House, leaves and plants rustling at the force of your landing and the final sweep of your wings. Those plants, those flowers and bushes – Elain had planted those. Part of you wanted to rip them out from the roots and burn them, watch as the flames consumed that part of her – but the other part, the more logical side told you not to. This was not Elain’s fault. It was yours.

You entered the River House with a slight droop to your wings as Azriel clouded your mind. You tried to push him away but – how many times had you walked in here for a family dinner, betting on who would start a fight that night? How many times had you walked into this house together, him bumping your shoulder playfully as he chuckled at a joke you told? How many times had you both shushed each other, trying not to laugh too loudly as Nyx slept soundly upstairs? By the Mother, everything seemed to remind you of him now that he wasn’t yours.

Not that he’d ever been yours. That was just wishful thinking on your part.

You turned through the hallways, so consumed by your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone was in front of you until you bumped into them.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you apologised, steading them.

You instantly let go as if you’d been burned when you realised it was Elain who stood before you. A bubbling anger rose inside of you, threatening to overcome your logical thinking, but you pushed it down. None of this was Elain’s fault. The only person to blame was you.

“You’re back,” Elain stated with a small smile. “How was your mission?”

Ugh. If only Elain was rude, and didn’t care about you. It would make your life so much simpler if she was easy to hate. But you didn’t hate her. She had always been kind to you, always caring and thoughtful. She was gentle by nature.

You shrugged. “It went… well. I, uh… I have to update Rhys about it.”

“Of course,” Elain acknowledged, a smile still plastered on her pretty face.

You gave her a slightly strained smile and continued on through the house, all the way to Rhys’s office. You knocked this time, and Rhys responded, telling you to come in. You entered and walked up to his desk, the High Lord raising his head to survey you.

“Did it really take five days for you to figure out how to get Devlon to train the females properly?” Rhys questioned as he stood up from his desk.

“He has agreed to train the female properly,” you began, “and I stayed back to make sure he did as he said he would.”

Rhys studied you for a moment before leaning against his desk, arms crossed and eyeing you closely. You stood tall, not allowing him to see the sea of anguish within you, the ocean that churned with your heartache. You couldn’t let anyone ever see this part of you, the part that had once been full of hope and light, but was now shrouded in misery and darkness. And not the darkness you were used to. No, the darkness you were used to was calm and soothing, protective and familiar. This darkness was never ending, tormenting, and devastating.

“You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know,” Rhys murmured. “I’m here for you – not as your High Lord, but as your friend. As your brother.”

Your heart swelled at his words and before you could stop it, the tears came tumbling down. Rhys was there instantly, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder, sobbing and allowing five days’ worth of torture and grief to tumble out in the form of your cries. You held Rhys tight to you, as if he was a lifeline, knowing that if you let go right now you’d be lost in your sea of sorrow forever.

Rhys stroked your hair softly and you tried to get deep breaths into your lungs in an attempt to calm down. You’d cried in front of Rhys before, but you never liked it. Of course, people rarely liked to cry, but it made you feel weak, like all the males who told you that your emotions would get the best of you were right. Because when you were crying, those emotions really did take over. You didn’t feel anything except sorrow and pain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhys inquired.

You looked up at him, at your High Lord, and nearly shook your head. But… he couldn’t look inside your head, lest he see the depths of your suffering. So you took a deep breath, and hiccupped, “Azriel is my mate.” Rhys cocked his head, his only indication of surprise, and you continued, “He – I… he kissed Elain, because I hadn’t told him. I don’t think he knew, and… and he followed me to Windhaven, and then I accidentally told him and now… now he hates me.”

Rhys’s lips twisted. “Why do you think he hates you?”

“You should have heard the way he spoke to me,” you whispered weakly. “He – he’s never spoken to me like that. And he just… left.”

Rhys hummed lowly in thought, and even rubbed his chin. You wiped the tears from your cheeks and sniffed, pulling away from Rhys’s warm embrace. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You wanted solitude, and peace. Peace from your mind, and the thoughts that raged through it like a wildfire, only to be drowned out by the waves of misery that chased you.

“I’m going to go now,” you uttered, rubbing your arms.

Rhys was silent for a moment, before he admitted, “We all guessed, you know.” You looked up at him, and he clarified, “That the two of you were mates.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t really matter anymore. See you, Rhys.”

You left him in his office, and he did not follow. Maybe he knew you were at your breaking point, and that if you had to say one more word about it you might quite literally explode. You exited the River House, shutting the door behind you quietly and took off, your wings lifting you into the air with a single swoop. You glided across the city of starlight and all the way to the House of Wind, where you prayed to the Mother that Azriel would not be. You landed on the balcony, already feeling exhaustion cloud you and your thoughts. Maybe you could sleep peacefully for years and years and never have to face this problem.

Your footsteps echoed on the marble floors of the mountain palace as you made your way to your room, trying to ignore the thoughts that hounded you. You reached your hallway, intending to have a very long bath before getting into bed, when you stopped in your tracks. Azriel stood at the other end of the hall, also seemingly halted.

Now that you could see him, the only thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You just wanted to figure things out, to fix the fracturing of your heart and soul.

“Az–”

But he turned away and into his own room, closing the door with a loud slam, with enough force that you flinched. So maybe he couldn’t be reasoned with. Maybe that was it, maybe him closing the door meant he was closing the door on any possibility that you could work through it.

Because if Azriel couldn’t work through it, then no one could.

So you entered your own room, closing your door with much less force, and stood in the middle of your room. It used to be familiar and comforting, but now… it just reminded you of Azriel. Over there, by the window, the two of you would sit and read when you had a free moment. On the bed, the two of you would lay together after a particularly bad nightmare, comforting each other simply with your presence. 

You left the room and entered your adjoining bathroom, twisting the faucet handle, allowing hot, steaming water to fill the bathtub. You slid out of your leathers and stepped into the tub, hissing slightly at the heat, before lowering yourself down, and resting against the lip and tipping your head back. When the water reached the top, you turned it off and soaked, feeling the water settle around you as you stilled. You grabbed your soap, smelling of lavender and vanilla, and scrubbed yourself down, trying to wash away the grime of the Illyrian camps, as well as the pain of the rejection of the bond.

Because that’s what it was. You could deny it no longer – Azriel wanted nothing to do with you, it was clear as day. He had rejected the bond, and you felt it in your chest, felt the string that bound your two souls weakening. The pain was still there, the anguish and aching, but the bond felt… less. It was as if a veil had come down, shrouding the bond and concealing it from view. You knew it was still there, you could feel it faintly, but… it was as if something was cutting away at it, as if the bond was wilting away. Maybe when it finally did, you’d no longer feel the torment that threatened to overwhelm you.

Something caught your eye as you tried to relax. A shadow, small and harmless, sat in the corner of the room. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the candles were causing the strange silhouette. But you did know better.

“And what do you want?” you hissed.

The shadow recoiled and disappeared, leaving you alone.

You stayed in the bath until the water was cold and urged you to get out. You dried yourself off, the cotton towel soft against your skin, and you opened your drawer in search of sleepwear. You pulled on a pair of comfy pants, and opened the top drawer, freezing as you saw an oversized shirt tucked away, the ebony shade of the item almost hiding it from view. You hesitantly reached out for the fabric, and against your better judgement, picked it up, allowing the cloth to slide between your fingers. You inhaled the scent – night-chilled wind and cedar, with a hint of your own scent – and your hands fisted around it.

You should get rid of it. You doubted Azriel would want it, now that it gave off your smell of lavender and vanilla, so maybe you could burn it. Maybe it would be therapeutic, in a way.

A knock at your door dragged you from your thoughts, and you let out a, “just a minute!” before stuffing the shirt back in your drawer and grabbing another, shrugging in on and not bothering to do up the buttons in the slats, instead letting the clothing hang from your frame as you opened the door.

Mor stood at the door, eyes searching yours in concern. You moved aside to let her in and you shut the door behind her. Her stare never left you, and after a moment she sighed and walked over, motioning for you to turn around. You did as she ordered, allowing her deft fingers to do up the slats of your nightclothes.

“Thanks,” you mumbled once she had finished.

She only hummed in response, care and compassion clear in her warm brown eyes as she studied you. She opened up her arms and you sighed, falling into them. Mor held you tightly, her arms protecting you from the world and all its sorrow. You rested your head against her shoulder as she held you close, and you allowed a single tear to escape. 

“Now, now,” Mor murmured, rubbing your arms. “Starfall is in a few days. Do you have something to wear?”

You smiled at the blonde in thanks as she changed the subject, most likely sensing that you did not want to talk about it. Not now, and maybe not ever. Maybe if you pushed it all down far enough, it would disappear.

“No,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you have something for me.”

“You know me so well,” Mor grinned.

You smiled at your friend and she smiled back, but you could still see concern in her eyes. You could tell her that Azriel rejected the bond, but she’d probably already guessed. Besides, you didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to get lost in talk of dresses and parties and shoes and other useless things, if only to distract yourself from the drowning of your soul.

You felt bad for Lucien. You’d never really thought about how Elain’s rejection of the mating bond had felt for him. You didn’t realise it would be like this, like your soul was screaming and wailing until it could no longer, only to start back up again as soon as it could. You didn’t know it would feel like a stabbing pain in your chest, like someone had jammed a knife up your ribs and into your heart, and was slowly twisting with every minute that passed.

And of course, both of your mates ended up together. Of course the two beings who rejected the bond were together. Because that was what usually happened, right? When a person rejected the bond, it was because they wanted someone else. Had Elain decided, all those years ago when Azriel had first visited the Archeron Estate, that she wanted him? Was that another reason why she rejected Lucien?

It would do you no good to ponder it. So you sat with Mor and gossiped and chatted away until the sun rose, talking of nothing important.

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@sv0430 @bsenpai @mich0731 @nobody00sthings @vickykazuya @abrunettefangirlnerd @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @elizabethrosecresswell @my-otrand @fuckthatfeeling @im-bili @littlebookbengal @feyretopia @satellitesunshine @marina468 @fartimagines @fussel9913 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @fan-of-many-bands @azriel-luvr @xreaderbooksreads @twsssmlmaa @ilov3sharks @mllemarianne @gamarancianne @holywolfsstuff @shadowsinger-654 @lovra974 @cullenswife @megudragon @fieldofdaisiies @psychobookoholic​

i’m sorry if i forgot anyone, i tried to get them all down <3 Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part three!!

#azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger #acotar x reader #rhysand #morrigan #elain archeron #lucien acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #angst #never yours #never yours part 2

[dawneternal]

What Can't Be Undone

✴ a one shot inspired by the theory that Elain reminds Rhys of his sister

✴ word count: 1.1k

✴ warnings: grief, loss, nightmares

✴ Hespera Masterlist

Rhysand woke to a room cloaked in starry midnight. His eyes scanned the room for threats, heart beating so quickly it ached in his chest. He was too warm, skin sticky with sweat.

Thunder rumbled, rattling the glass of the windows. It took him a moment to understand that it hadn't come from himself, but the summer storm approaching Velaris. He held his breath, glancing toward Nyx's bassinet, but the wards had held. The sound hadn't gotten through and his son was still asleep, his little face peaceful and silver with moonlight.

His gaze shifted toward the bed. The space beside him was empty and the anxiety rattled even harder against his ribs. He knew Feyre was only at the House of Wind with Nesta. But he needed her now.

Before he could stop himself, Rhys was out of bed and tugging on clothes. His nightmare and the real world were still merged, horror crawling down his spine. In this strange version of the world, a pair of glowing purple eyes overlapped with a pair of shining hazel ones. The sharp sting of loss filled every inch of him, coursing through his veins like his night-kissed power.

He was running down the hall, barely registering the thoughts of how stupid this would look and how foolish he would feel in the morning. He didn't care. He couldn't care. Not with the panic and the grief warring for space in his mind. And worse, something deep in his gut was clawing for a shred of hope. He fought for it, chest heaving. Because accepting the truth would hurt more than he could bear.

If Feyre were here, or Cassian, or Az, they would help him slide back into reality. But they weren't here and he stuck in this world of rumbling darkness. This rendition of the truth, created by his nightmare.

Trembling fingers grasped the doorknob to Elain's room and swung the door open wide. Lightning illuminated her form as she shot upright, fear written across her features. Thunder rolled again and Rhys jumped, scurrying toward her. Elain's shoulders sagged as she realized it was just him, though her brows furrowed at the wild gleam in his eyes, the sheen of sweat on his torso as he struggled for a breath.

"What's wrong? Is it Nyx?" She pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Another flash of lightning ignited the amber of her eyes.

When he saw it, the honey brown that was supposed to be violet, Rhys crumbled. He dropped to his knees by Elain's bed, the harsh thud of his landing coinciding with another wave of thunder. When the sound faded, Rhys's sobs filled the room. He bent forward slowly to rest his forehead on Elain's knees.

She was still for a moment, processing the High Lord coming undone at her feet. Then she silently reached toward her sister, hoping the message made it to her, before pushing Rhysand back with gentle hands so she could kneel in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him weep into her shoulder. An image drifted into her mind and she didn't know if it had come from her own gifts or if Rhys had shared it with her. Wherever it came from, it sent a wave of aching grief so strong it pulled tears from her own eyes. 

The heart-shaped face of a winged girl, blushing and laughing. Her golden skin and thick black eyebrows matched Rhysand's. Her eyes the same shade of violet, flecked with stars. Unruly black curls bounced over her shoulders. She was so young. Younger than Feyre had been when she'd gone over the wall with Tamlin. Elain could see her youth and promise, possibility wreathing her like a halo. As brilliant and glowing as her brother's power.

"Hespera," Rhysand croaked, grasping fistfuls of Elain's nightgown. Her jasmine scent filled his nose and pulled another choked cry out of him. It was not Hespera's scent. Not the smell of summer nights and moonflower he'd likely never experience again. 

Elain's heart broke in two as she understood. He had come looking for her. He would not find her, would never find her again.

Rhys had told her once that she reminded him of his sister. It had filled her chest with warmth, made her eyes gleam with the honor, though a part of her had wondered if he was just being nice. 

Now, she knew it was true. As he had rushed in his half-awake state to her room, to the closest thing in this living world he could find to Hespera. Mind hazy from his dream, he had forgotten she was gone. She had framed felt it before, the jumbled mess of emotions that came from dreaming of one you've lost.

"I'm sorry," Elain whispered, threading her fingers through his own inky hair and cradling his head. The floorboards dug into her knees and snagged against her nightgown but she did not move, only reached toward Feyre again. "I'm so sorry." 

Elain couldn't guess how long they stayed like that, Rhysand enveloped in grief as the storm raged outside. She listened carefully for Nyx but he seemed to be sleeping through it all and she thanked the Mother for it. 

Then she heard the snap of an incoming winnow and hurried footsteps on the stairs. Feyre ran past Elain's open door, doubling back when she registered what she'd seen. She stopped in the doorway, eyes drifting over her mate in Elain's arms, the panic in her eyes turning into sorrow. 

"Feyre's here," Elain whispered as Feyre sat on the floor with them. Rhysand released Elain, looking at Feyre with such devastation in his red-rimmed eyes. Feyre held his face in her hands, brushing away the tears, murmuring comfort. 

Elain wondered how her sister could stand even a fraction of the grief he must be sending through the bond. Her thoughts flashed toward her own mate, wondering if he had ever experienced such an episode and held it in so as not to send it to her unwittingly. It was another wave of pain in her already twisted heart.

She stood and walked toward the door a little numbly. Tea. Tea might help. 

"Thank you," Feyre whispered over her shoulder at Elain, tears falling freely down her cheeks. 

Elain nodded, not bothering to wipe away her own. For the millionth time, she cursed the cauldron for the power it had thrust upon her. This time, though, she did not wish to be human again. She wished for more. Something greater than her visions, greater than either of her sister's stolen powers. Something that could reverse the cruel death of Rhysand's sister. Or something that could help her dole the most fitting justice. She would send that vengeance to the afterlife, if she must.

Just as Nesta hadn't seen the silver glow of power in her own eyes, Elain could not see the golden light of her own. 

#acotar fic #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand fic #rhysand fanfic #rhysand fanfiction #elain acotar #elain archeron fanfic #elain archeron #elain archeron fanfiction #rhys acotar #rhysand sister #rhysands sister #rhysand!sister #rhys!sister #hespera

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Girl Who Cheated Death

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - There was no one in any universe who would dare to approach you without fear, that is until you meet a certain Shadowsinger. Once stone cold and vicious in your own right, you soon come to realise that perhaps all it takes is a pretty male with hazel eyes to set you free.

Warnings - kinda dark reader, stone cold, lots of sass, swearing, drinking, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of trauma, some subtle sexual tension, everyone being afraid of the reader because she's giving death vibes x

Word Count - 8.9k

Physical descriptions are present in this fic.

Based on this ask! Thank you @cleverzonkwombatsludge for the request 🫶🏻

"Can I offer some criticism?"

"If it's constructive..."

"You're an idiot," the unwinding braid at your side loosened more with each twist of your fingers, and to your right, through the reflection of the recently polished vanity mirror stood Amren, your closest friend that you had gained when you had first moved to the Night Court one hundred years ago.

It had been no accident that you and Amren had met, in fact, she had been the one to seek you out after a rather intriguing show you had directed at Rita's. Amren watched man after man almost break their necks to look at you, the most beautiful resident of the Night Court, and in all of Prythian. Hair that reminded Amren of a black widow swayed behind you in perfectly loose curls, it was sinfully dark and shone in the faelight, shimmering so brilliantly that Amren had thought that threads of silken web were weaved between each glossy black strand.

Amren also remembered the dress you had worn, it was short and tight, the fabric hugged every curve of your body and kissed the thighs that were connected to those incredible taut calves. If looks could kill then the Night Court would certainly fall to its knees.

It wasn't what you looked like that caught Amren's attention, however. It was the way that every single person in that room shrunk away from your stare, a stone iced glare that was void of any life, all that lay in them was ire and boredom, which quite perfectly summed up what you felt about life in general.

The firedrake sought you out, coming by the gallery you had opened in the city which held an array of carefully collected artworks and mysteriously rare antiques, just to get a glimpse of you, to see the one who had been the first to pique her eye in centuries. Amren had not been disappointed by you. There was something about the way you carried yourself that attracted her to your aura, the perfect posture and slightly hooded eyelids that encased walnut orbs that glimmered gold in the sun. That wasn't all, no, it was also the way you spoke, so sultry and dark, but there was a certain elegance your words. A siren luring souls to the darkest depths of the ocean floor.

Rhys had once suggested that you'd never truly age considering you never smiled. That had earned him a rare small quirk of your lip, and he considered it to be his greatest achievement of his life to date.

It had made sense that the Night Court had been the place where you had chosen to settle, it had moulded very well with you, to the point where Day had become an infantile dream that was floating away in your subconscious. Forgotten.

Despite being a collector of sorts, Amren had soon found out just how far your talented talons stretched, you were incredibly well versed in old dialects, ancient symbols and traditions, a talent that Rhys had soon asked Amren to take advantage of since he was too afraid of you to ask you for aid himself.

Seemed as though the terrifying High Lord of the Night Court was actually scared of something.

"How exactly am I an idiot?" Amren enquired with darkened orbs that kept on glancing downward to the scars that littered the bare spine from the licks of Illyrian whips. They were slightly raised and pallid in comparison to the rest of your healthy glowing hue.

Untethering the last of your braid, you ran your nails over your scalp and pulled slightly, shivering at the relief that surged through you as your hair fell unbound down your spine. All the taut tension in your body quickly evaporated. Silently, you turned on your seat to face your friend, "You're asking me to revamp my evil lair to make it more welcoming for your odd little family," you said incredulously and unblinking, "You're an idiot."

Amren wasn't exactly asking you to make your own home more appeasing to the Inner Circle, she simply meant the private office that Rhys had bestowed to you for whenever he needed your help with something, and it had become a place that you frequented often. It was located in the library of the House of Wind so that your nimble fingers had access to all of the books and ancient texts they needed.

The only settling thing about that office was the view of the golden valley of Velaris, of the snow-capped mountains that loomed to the north. Everything else filled any resident with dread. Tall well-loved candles were scattered about the space, cloths stained with millennia old text hung from the ceilings, tomes lay splayed open on the desk and centre table, each depicting some form of terror. To you, your work was fascinating, studying the origins of evil and all of its forms, to others it was petrifying.

It wasn't odd to find the firedrake confined in your apartment, whether you be with her or not, glass of red in hand and reading some sort of research text. Amren often didn't even glace up at you when you entered your own home, all she noticed was your shadow gliding across the room, drowning out the golden candlelight.

"Rhys would spend more time with you if you did. He's actually really insightful, he could help you with your study."

"Why would I want to spend time with him?"

A poor attempt from Amren to try and push you into a monotone civilian life yet again.

"Fine," Amren rolled her coiling silver eyes and tutted, "Are you ready? Rhys doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Irritation was rife in her voice, you clasped a dainty blood diamond around your neck and allowed your shoulders to drop, "I don't particularly care for your High Lord's time." Rhys was not your High Lord and he knew it, he knew that you couldn't be ruled over and would never answer to anyone but yourself. A queen of her own kingdom. But one he very much wanted to keep on his side.

"Y/N," Amren bit, and you too tugged back the smirk that was quaking in the corners of your mouth.

Meeting her fiery gaze in the mirror, you rolled your head to the side in one swooped graceful motion, "I'm teasing, Amren." Rising from the bench before the vanity, you felt the silken hem of your dress brush against your feet. It was a simple garment, black buttoned up fabric, a deep v-neckline that showed the beginnings of your cleavage, short and soft floating sleeves that cuffed above your elbows.

Smirking with approval, Amren moved to the front door of your ornately beautiful apartment, a personal haven of yours that was vastly different to the office at the House of Wind. Brunette carpets thick enough to sleep upon covered the space, the walls were a shade of milked coffee, warm and inviting, and the ceilings were a soft cream and coved with intricate carvings. A large fire bundled into the far wall at the centre of a wall of windows, before it was a onyx seating area of plush deep seated sofas and armchairs.

It was charming. One of the best views of Velaris was from your living room window.

Leaving your home with the click of the lock, you followed after Amren, falling into place beside her as you walked up the winding paths to the House of Wind. The feeling of people's eyes trailing you had become something you'd become rather accustomed to, they were astounded by your beauty, amazed by how someone could look so breath-taking yet so horrifying.

The House of Wind was as it always was, incredibly luxurious in its own right and shivering at your entrance. It wasn't like the house didn't like you, it just struggled to adjust to your energy, it was starkly different to the usual joy it mostly held.

The echoing voices halted when you rounded the corner, your scent of jasmine and sandalwood soaring through the air, infecting their oxygen. Violet eyes appeared before you within a couple of moments, always wary, always laced with the tiniest bit of fear, "Thank you for meeting with us."

"Well," your eyes sliced across the room, absorbing every face and feature and feeling somewhat intrigued by a face you had never seen before. Tall and tan, shadows swirling at his shoulders, large wings that he had mindfully tucked behind his back, and shiny black hair that fell over his forehead. Rhys stood before you waiting for you to speak, your eyes found his and you hummed, tapping your finger against your clothed thigh, "Anything for the firedrake."

A chortled scoff flew from Cassian and Rhys stepped aside slightly to expose you to the general who soon choked on the air, "Something funny, Cass?" Rhys asked with a smirk, he motioned for you to find a seat and make yourself comfortable.

A deep rooted velvet armchair called to you and you moved to it, paying little attention to the hazel eyes fixated upon you. "No, not at all," Cassian sent you a tight-lipped smile which made Nesta grin, enjoying his discomfort nearly as much as you.

Flames danced in your eyes, the fire burning brightly in the fireplace that welcomed your gaze as though it was a mirror. Turning your head, you folded your hands over your thighs, feeling the exposed skin that lay there from the seamless slit in the fabric.

"How about you skip whatever small talk you were going to offer and get to the point, Rhysand?"

Widened pupils possessed Nesta's gaze, she leaned back into her seat and smirked, a wickedly feline feature, and spoke, "I like you."

No words left your lips, you held her gaze and felt your darkness bubble at her determination to withstand your stare, but she soon stood down; though, she continued to watch you, noting your posture and the way you held yourself. Nesta was in awe.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Straight to the point as always, y/n."

"Am I supposed to be anything but?" Rhys sighed, a headache already forming at his temples from your dry sassing. Perhaps he needed some of that powder that Elain had gifted to Azriel last solstice.

The High Lord pinched the bridge of his nose and slid his hand to rest on Feyre's knee, a sweet gesture, "We need your help with some particular text that none of us can translate. If anyone is going to be able to decipher it then it would be you."

"What text?"

Boredom coiled in your gut, "It's the story of Koschei, we believe that there may be a key hidden within the text that could help us to defeat him." The coil loosened and your eyebrow twitched, and a dark spot to your left caught that millisecond-long expression, sliding back to its master and humming in his ear.

Koschei was a death-god, a personification of evil. To have your hands on such a text would more than aid your research. It would make you infamous in the underworld of Prythian.

"Is it in my office?" Rhys straightened and nodded stiffly; rising to your feet, you brushed down the pleats of your skirt, "I'll take a look."

Before you could move from the room, a gentle clearing of a throat sounded from behind you, beckoning and hesitant. Slowly, you turned around, noticing how Rhys was now standing, "I would like Azriel to help you with this. I believe that your collective talents will be able to decipher the message faster."

Of course. The illustrious Shadowsinger that you had never had the displeasure of meeting. Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court.

"Studies have shown that I didn't ask for your opinion, High Lord," if anyone else had used the mocking tone toward his title they would have been misted on the spot. But not you, never you. Rhys was too afraid that Hell would rise from your ashes and devour the continent if he even tried it.

A cool kiss slithered around your ankle, and when you peered down you found a shadow curling there, caressing your skin and shivering in delight. Your eyes followed the tendril back to its owner who was clearly mentally scrambling to pull his shadow back to the others. Hazel collided with molten gold and you found yourself yearning for the shadow to return.

"I have to insist," his voice wavered and it didn't go unnoticed by you.

Amren sucked in a breath, shrinking further into her spot wedged between Mor and Elain, knowing that she told had told Rhys multiple times to never order you to do anything.

"What do you fear, Rhysand?"

"I think that you'll find that the word fear is not in my vocabulary," he doubled down and you couldn't blame him, he was an alpha protecting his territory.

Ticking your head to the side, your eyes dragged up his body, and you smirked, a real one that made his blood chill, "Perhaps. But it's in your eyes," not giving him a chance to respond, you turned to Azriel, finding him looking up at you with an almost bewitched possession in his eyes, "Stay out of my way."

Not another word was spoken as you stalked from the room, the only sound being the footsteps of Azriel who had speedily followed after you. Neither of you spoke on the descent down to the library, even that vast space of aged excellence watched you enter; you almost floated across the room, a grace in your steps that Azriel had never seen before, and it had him needing to know more.

How Azriel had never met you astounded him, he would certainly remember a face like yours. It was one that held the power to haunt his dreams.

As promised, the texts had been left on your desk, and you moved to them instantly, tracing your fingers down the bound leather spine and examining the golden embossment, picking apart the symbols in your mind. Rounding the large oaken desk, you pulled the text with you, opening the cover and not even flinching when it thudded against the desktop.

Thick waves fell over your shoulder and you mindlessly tucked them back from where they had originated, not caring about the effect it had on the Shadowsinger who noted how your fingers grazed against your collarbone on its return to the ancient pages before your insightful eye.

"I've never been in here before," a weak attempt to strike up conversation with you. Azriel had heard much about you from Cassian and Rhys, of how awful terrifying you were, how you intimidated every single person that crossed your path and seemingly enjoyed the terror of it.

Azriel understood it, there was something about you that was unnerving, that he could understand why people were uncomfortable in your presence, but he only found himself in wonderment of it.

Without looking up, you turned the page gently and muttered, "Why would you? It's my office."

Displeasure was prominent on your tongue, the taste of it swelled in the muscle but you didn't allow it to be vile, you pulled the bile back and silently choked on it.

Azriel drank in the room, the begging to be lit candles and the large arched windows, the aged tapestries of history that were clearly too valuable to display in your gallery, "The creation of the cauldron," the words pulled you from the text and your gaze narrowed in on the Shadowsinger rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his hands folded neatly at his back.

"How do you know that?"

The Shadowsinger circled to face you and took a tentative step to the edge of the desk, "I've seen a couple of the same markings in a cave. This is the original?"

"Yes," there were many deplorable things you had taken part in to secure your collection as the most impressive in the entire universe, some things you weren't proud of, others, you were very much so.

"How did you get it?" Azriel admired the piece, a depiction of Prythian's creation that no one would ever guess was as important as it was, all because they couldn't read the first language of the fae.

Sitting back in your seat, you placed your magniscope on the surface, an ornate tool used by curators and researchers alike to read between the lines of existence, and watched him, "There are some things in this world that would make even your blood burn, Shadowsinger."

The way you said his name had a shudder flickering down his spine, your tone was sultry and low, like you knew of his darkness and had decided that it was a star in comparison to whatever lived within you.

A golden glow shrouded the room from the setting sun kissing the mountain peak, it washed over you, its light glittering your skin with shimmer, turning your eyes into burnished gold. The blood diamond around your neck cascaded speckles of its hue across the ceiling, and your chest rise an fell with even, calm breaths.

Forgetting the reason why he stood before you, Azriel allowed himself a moment to examine you, the beautifully loose hair that swam down that perfectly curved spine, the eyes and cheekbones, the full lips and the indents of your collarbone. You were by far the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

The stolen moment wasn't one that escaped your eye, a gentle heat pooled at your cheeks and you had no option but to look away, clearing your throat and pouring your attention back into the text in front of you.

Coiling the magniscope in your fingers, you hovered it over the written symbols on the page, moving it in line with every line and swirl you could see. It was a heavy object, and you hadn't been surprised when Amren had mistook the glass orb as a bookend.

"What do you know of Koschei?" Azriel found a place in the seat opposite you, his shadows danced from his shoulders and began to inch toward you, and he made no move or command to stop them.

"There are many legends," you began, craning your neck to peer at the top of the adjacent page, "Attacking his physical body won't harm him, he has split his soul into parts and placed them in other living creatures or sentient objects. Destroy the objects and you have a better chance of ending him."

Azriel angled himself forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "How do you know that?"

Again, without looking up, you spoke, "When you spend a lot of time in the Underworld of this continent you pick up a few things. You also learn how to decipher the truth from the lies."

Another gentle turn of the page.

The taupe scribing possessed the faintest words written in a pale gold ink, so miniscule that any other magniscope wouldn't be able to see it. Though yours wasn't just any ordinary magniscope, it was forged with the stardust of a fallen star, a star that used to burn the brightest in the northern skies.

"You know of the Underworld?"

For a moment, your gaze flickered upward, golden pools peering through your long thick lashes, "Very well."

It wasn't surprising that you had dabbled in the darkest reality of the continent, your knowledge was not cheap, and it wasn't knowledge that you could gain from books alone. Azriel wondered how many souls you had stripped from the earth on your quest for knowledge, perhaps it would cause his count to pale in comparison.

"I could only imagine what someone would do for this level of knowledge," his voice lingered, questioning, requiring to know every corner of the mind locked within the female in front of him.

"Are you trying to compare body counts, Spymaster? If so, I assume I would be disappointed with your lacklustre attempts."

Then you were back on the text, scribbling words down in the notepad to your left without even glancing to it, focused to the point where no letter strayed from the lines. But you still felt his eyes on you, waiting, scouring your face and trying to figure out why exactly he had never crossed paths with you before considering your occupation.

"Don't you have some doe-eyed damsel to go and rescue?"

Even with the fleeting few minutes spent with the Inner Circle, you saw how Elain Archeron looked at him, all love-sick and hopeful. Elain was a perfectly mundane being, content with all things bright and pretty. It was sickening.

Biting back the urge to roll his eyes at the thought, Azriel shuffled into his seat, seemingly getting more comfortable, "No."

"Shame," you mused, impressing Azriel with how you scribed, analysed and spoke all at the same time. A very powerful mind was dwelling within you, and it had his attention.

Azriel was finding your dry words quite amusing, though he was spending his time sat before you in silence, sketching every inch of your face and body to his memory.

A soft tug pulled at your brows, and if Azriel wasn't fixated upon you then he surely would have missed it. He let a minute pass, a minute where the pace of your analysation quickened alongside the rate of your writing. Again, your hair fell over your shoulder, clearly bothering you but you couldn't move it, not when you were so entranced, and it took all of his will to not do it for you.

Questioning you on your findings, your eyes held a certain twinkle to them as you explained your theory. That Koschei had in fact fractured his soul and implanted the pieces of it within other living creatures and objects, and that to hunt those objects down was the only way to be able to banish him from the world.

"Run and tell your master," you told him after you were done explaining how to find the first host of Koschei's soul, "I'm sure he will be thrilled with your input."

Which was very little, Azriel hadn't done anything other than invade your space and make himself far too comfortable, but he didn't argue, he simply stood from his seat and bowed, taking your hand in his marred digits and raising it to his lips, brushing them against your knuckles and thanking you before leaving you to your silence.

The ghost of his touch lingered on you skin, as did the licks at your calves from the shadows he hadn't cared to reign in upon his exit.

It was then that a small yet foreign warmth pooled in your chest, you rubbed the spot gingerly and sighed, returning to reality and shaking your head back to sense. Finding peace in the confined corners of your mind.

The next instance where you found yourself in Azriel's presence had been one warm afternoon in the library.

Velaris had been scorched by the sun, the summer breezes swept across the city, and you had decided to wear a simple grey dress that afternoon, it was lightweight enough to flow in the gentle caress of the wind but still managed to keep to your usual elegant yet sharp style.

Since that insisted couple of hours in your office a couple of weeks ago, you were ashamed to admit just how much your thoughts drifted to the Shadowsinger you had seen lurking in the corners of your consciousness. The darkness was lingering in the farthest reaches, as if it didn't wish to be discovered by you but couldn't steer itself away.

The ladder beneath your feet creaked as you reached across the shelf, tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you strained slightly, your fingers barely brushing against the spine of the book you needed. A familiar cool presence washed over you, trailing up your skirt and arms and extending from your fingers to remove the book from the shelf and place it in your awaiting grasp.

Peering back to the ground, you saw Azriel stood at the foot of the ladder with his hands resting at his sides; balling the skirt up in your fingers, you used the railing the lower yourself back to the earth and paused in front of Azriel who had a brow quirked in curiosity, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," his voice matched your own but he found himself faltering when you went to walk by him. His voice called out to you, "I just wanted to let you know that we found the first host."

You paused your steps and turned, "And?"

"It's destroyed," and clearly the gravity of it weighed on him, he had to have known that Koschei wasn't exactly going to make the objects easy to destroy, but it still didn't mean that it wasn't traumatising.

Understanding what he meant, at the life he had just taken to protect to continent, you took a step toward him, an olive branch of sorts, "Are you alright?"

Itching with confusion, Azriel nodded slowly, "I didn't think you cared."

You shrugged, nonchalant, and scuffed the heel of your sandal against the floor with your gentle kick, "I don't."

Azriel hummed, a serene grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "I think that you do," Azriel took a step forward and noticed how your back straightened and shoulders rolled back.

The book became plastered to your chest, "Whatever you think is of little concern to me."

Two weeks had passed, two weeks of not only searching for the first host of Koschei thanks to your wildly impressive knowledge, but two weeks of Azriel doing all he could to gain your attention. It had been difficult to see you at Rita's, swaying to the music without a care in the world beside Amren, and not be able to touch the skin that seemed as smooth as honey.

His shadows had been following you, reporting back to him of how you spent your days cooped up in your apartment reading or in your office analysing another ancient text. They reported no men, nothing untoward or damning, they simply whispering to him how pretty you were. They had been bewitched by you, utterly obsessed with everything that you were, and he couldn't blame them.

Turning on the balls of your feet again, you entered your office, leaving the door open in silent permission that Azriel basked in as he followed you inside, "I'm trying to talk to you, y/n."

A soft hum vibrated against your lips. Placing the book once glued to your chest on the centre table of the room, you faced Azriel once more. The office was cold, as was every chamber built below the main infrastructure of the house, and Azriel wondered how you could be so at home within it.

It was entrancing how a room so dark and full of evil texts and passages could make you look so ethereal. The glossed black hair he had often dreamt of running his fingers through was tied back in a loose thick braid, whisps of hair fell from the vines of it and settled over your eyes. Ornate jewellery twinkled in the pale sunlight, swirls of gold encased your fingers and wrists, and a coiled necklace that resembled a scaled serpent glided around the base of your neck.

"What would you like me to say? I did tell you how to find the first host so that you could destroy it. I don't require updates, Azriel," the movement of your tongue as you said his name for the first time had his resolve withering.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to warm ourselves by the glow of your I told you so."

Then, as though the sun was blessing the earth after eons of slumber, your lips widened into a grin, one big enough to expose your perfectly white teeth and Azriel felt the dark storm clouds in his soul splinter. A golden threat soared through him, reaching out to you and entwining itself with the thread bristling at your centre.

Sculpted fingers drifted over that spot in your chest that had become increasingly hard to ignore and you inhaled sharply. Azriel's pupils had dilated, they were wide and frenzied, and his hand was outstretched to you.

The smile on your face dropped.

"You're my mate," Azriel nodded at the words you had managed to utter, the same ones that had become lodged in his throat.

Heat prickled at his skin, nerves seeped into his bones. You were so unreadable, and Azriel was scrambling his thoughts to clear so that he may be able to figure out how you felt about it. About being fated to be his.

Azriel had learnt from Amren how unaffectionate you were, how much you hated anyone touching you. It was because of the Illyrian camps you had visited in your younger years where they had thought you a witch, and had punished you for it in a barbaric way; the evidence still lingered on your skin in long angry streaks, and Amren had admitted that night is what spurred on your need to understand the roots of evil.

It was understandable, to spend a lifetime studying the one thing that had ever truly hurt you. For what reason, Azriel didn't know, but he liked to think that it was to cause evil to cower in your presence.

Silence shrouded the room like a disease, infecting and poisoning everything in its path, and Azriel way becoming increasingly worried about how your smile had dropped. Was he truly that repulsive to you? He could only ever dream to be mated with someone like you, someone who welcomed death like an old friend and would entertain it in an eons long waltz, someone who was poised and elegant but so brilliantly lethal that it made even him shudder.

Taking an unsettling step toward you, Azriel loosened a breath when he saw that you hadn't retreated, his eyes were trained on you as he took another step, and then another, until his shadow danced with you own, "I'm your mate."

Rhys and Cassian would be mortified of the news, Azriel was sure that Rhys found you terrifying in the same way that Cassian found Bryaxis. No of that mattered though. Not to him. Not when he now belonged to a female as striking and dangerous as the blood in his veins.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at the proximity, the tendrils connected to his essence peered over his shoulders seemingly apprehensively thrilled that it was you stood before them, "Yes, you are."

Azriel's gaze drifted down to your lips and left dragged back upward to your eyes, "Can I touch you?"

A part of you froze at the desperate question. You hadn't let anyone touch you in years, you couldn't remember the last time you laid with a male or female, you couldn't remember what a simple even felt like. Amren had never even tried to get too close to you let alone anyone else.

In the first vulnerable emotion you had ever let anyone see, you sheepishly nodded, eyes boring into his own and he didn't break his stare as his fingers twitched toward you, ghosting along your skin and melting at the heat they found there. Mindlessly, you shifted when his palm lingered a whisker away from the slope of your neck and his eyes became stitched with concern but softened when you had won the fight against your fear to stand still once more.

Azriel's hand lowered, resting against your skin that was softer than his imagination could ever fathom. His thumb drifted down the column of your throat and you swallowed, hard.

"You don't have to accept this or me," he told you, his voice tantalisingly cooing to you in a hush above a whisper, "But gods, y/n. I really hope that you do."

Azriel saw through you then, through that façade you wore like a medal. And he found what saw to be quite heart-breaking. Stood before him was a woman, one that possessed a brilliant mind and equally captivating beauty, but beneath it all was the girl who was brutalised so badly that she vowed to never allow another person close again.

"You're my mate," you spoke with a certain conviction that hadn't graced your words the last time, Azriel watched your lashes flutter, and he felt his soul singing when those eyes found him again, "I'm not letting you go."

Gracefully, your fingers curled around his wrist, your index finger sleeping just over the faint beat of his pulse, just where his marred flesh faded to memory, "You accept it?"

"I- yes, I do."

Jasmine and sandalwood drowned his lungs, and he would have died happy just to be able to say that he knew what your shampoo smelt like. Papaya and coconuts. He gingerly ran his fingers through your hair, noting how much you loved the feeling of it as you shivered in his arms. Azriel pressed a dainty but tender kiss to your brow, and it had you realising that maybe you were allowed to give yourself this one thing that the younger version of you had always dreamt of.

Azriel hadn't tried to push you further, he knew that the moment of allowing someone to touch you, to hold you, was far more momentous than finding your mate.

Instead he asked you a simple question, it was more of an offering than anything. To spend time together away from the prying eyes of his family, so that you may become comfortable with one another before allowing anyone else into it. You had agreed. Eagerly.

So the next few weeks drifted by, afternoon walks along the Sidra, morning breakfast drop-offs at your office, after hours visits to the gallery where you would tell him of your adventures and how on some occasions you barely survived. Azriel was in complete awe of you, he sat beside you on your love seat completely captivated by you, his fingers tracing small circles into your thighs and his shadows curling through your hair. And that smile, gods, that smile could make even the most poised male lose all sense. It was bright and gleaming, and your skin glowed with the happiness of it.

Then you had decided to break the news to the Inner Circle, and as you stood before those doors oozing with grandeur, you felt nerves pinch at your skin, "Are you ready?" Azriel's fingers were tangled with yours and he bowed his head to place his lips on your bare shoulder.

"Yes." Azriel gave your hand a gentle tug, willing you to move from your spot located just behind him.

The aura of the house had shifted, now, it was inquisitive, glancing to the mirrors and then back to your hands to see if what it was seeing was real. Laughter echoed at the end of the hall, your scent had usually silenced them by now, but not this time. Now that your scent was mixed with Azriel’s it seemed much less threatening. Pity.

Turning the corner, you became startled by the smash of a glass, shards of it glided along the floor and fell at your feet. Looking up, you found Mor frozen in place, wide eyes and bewildered. The rest of the room craned to attention, collectively moving their eyes from Mor, to you, and then to Azriel, and then to your entwined fingers.

It took a minute, but you could have sworn you heard the bell ding in Cassian’s empty brain, “Oh shit,” he rose to his feet, wings flaring slightly as a wide grin gripped his mouth.

Rhys appeared before you both, gaze lowered in surprise, clearly trying to picture a timeline in his mind. The High Lord looked to his Spymaster, “Are you-“

“Mates?” Azriel finished incredulously, knowing that your moulded scents had already infected the room, and turned his head to you, orbs gleaming and adoration speckled on his cheeks, “Yes.”

Elain Archeron had sank into her seat, doing her best to not pay attention to you in particular whilst her stomach churned with the scent seeping into her bones. Subconsciously, you moved closer to Azriel, a slightly territorial action that made him smirk.

It had been a brief conversation that you had suffered through, the one where Azriel had made it very clear that the situation with Elain was brutally one-sided. Azriel had only sought to be nice to her, to help her to adjust to her new body and life because she was Feyre's sister and Feyre was his High Lady, and she had taken his kindness for something much more than what it truly was.

Leading you to the velvet armchair that you would usually slither into, Azriel sat and motioned for you, turning you in his hands so that his touch never left your thighs, and pulled you to his lap. A bashful smile formed on your face and you could feel the eyes of the room on you, equally as confused as shocked.

"Since when?" Nesta had asked after sipping from the goblet of red wine between her fingers, the liquid staining her plump pale lips, and she used her thumb to wipe a singular droplet before it ran down her chin. Her eyes held an emotion you couldn't quite make out, Azriel had admitted that Nesta was just as unreadable as you at times, but the way his digits dug into your flesh told you that what the eldest sister was feeling was an assortment of jealousy. Not toward you, toward him.

"The bond snapped just over a month ago," Nesta hummed and burrowed herself into the cushions, pouting slightly, like she was an infant who had her favourite toy taken from her grasp. "We wanted to explore it before we properly accepted it or told anyone."

That made Elain's doe-like stare move from the floor to your mate who was sat with you on his thighs rubbing small circles into your shoulders, "So you haven't accepted it?"

Your jaw clenched at the question, the question that was perfumed with the last splatters of hope, "If you're asking if we've fucked yet, Elain, then no, we haven't. Does that answer your question?"

Azriel's fingers moved to play with the ends of your hair, knowing that the sensation of slight tugging over your scalp relaxed you infinitely, "I only ask because I know how physical Azriel can be. Surely you've heard the stories?" Elain feigned innocence, Feyre sighed from her seat and glanced to you apologetically, silently begging you to not tear her sister apart.

In fact, you had heard the stories. Trying to ignore the gossip of the city was difficult considering how used you were to eavesdropping into certain conversations in the underworld. So, unfortunately, you had heard about Azriel's many lovers, and you'd be silly to not feel insecure of it, but you wouldn't let her see that. Ever.

Craning your neck to the side, you smiled, your iced gaze slicing into her and making Elain shrink under the weight of it, "With all due respect, which is none," you leaned to the side, accepting the goblet of wine that the house had presented to you in premature thanks for the forthcoming words you were about to utter, "Your existence gives me a headache, so please go and find somewhere else to be."

Rhys' eyes widened but he suppressed the smirk forming on his face, hiding his lips behind his fist and closing his eyes. Not even Feyre or Nesta spoke up over it, they clearly knew better than to challenge you. Cassian however didn't really care if Elain saw his joy at your words, he had been growing more tired each passing day of her pining affection toward his brother, and now he understood why Azriel had withdrawn further from the female over the last few weeks.

It was because of the unique female before their very eyes.

The middle sister went to open her mouth, to retort something that wouldn't even irk you, but Amren shushed her, halted the words in her throat and willed her to die with them, "Don't even try it," Amren served you more than her own court, finding a kindred spirit within you, and she would shame herself if she let Elain speak to you as if you were nothing.

Elain would never understand someone like you. She wasn't worthy of it anyway.

No one had ever tried to understand Amren, not really, they thought her too complicated to be worth it. As long as they brought her pretty jewels and respected her then there was little else to worry of in their eyes. But you, you had understood her instantly and had found a particular solace with her, like you were peering through a mirror and she was your reflection.

Sipping the potent liquid in your goblet, you bowed your head to her, quietly thanking your friend for halting the small spat before it escalated and ruined the evening entirely. Tonight was not about Elain and her fragile feelings, it was about showing the Inner Circle who now owned your heart.

So, the middle sister vacated the room feigning a migraine, and the aura instantly lifted. A soft smile formed on your lips when your eyes landed on your mate, your entire face relaxed; entwining your fingers with his, you blushed when he pressed his lips to your knuckles and dragged your index finger down his cheek.

The Inner Circle watched on, knowing that they had never seen Azriel so taken by anything. They feasted on the sight of his shadows purring through your hair, on your colliding smiles, and how your gentle words to one another were contained in an ornate bubble around your bodies.

As the evening continued, you found yourself quite enjoying their company, you sat bundled into Azriel's embrace, finding comfort in the arms that were wrapped around you whilst Cassian spewed war stories, bragging at his prowess.

"Not to brag," you began with a smirk, "But at least eight men have described me as 'terrifying', and two of them are in this room. Choke on that ego, Cassian."

Nesta's grin turned feline and excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach. What she wouldn't give to spar with you, to have your legs wound around her and that tense gaze splitting her in half. From the whisperings of Prythian, it was very clear that you had done some rather diabolical things in order to obtain certain artifacts that had been locked away in your most prized and personal collection. So prized that its location was unknown. She could only imagine what trinkets you possessed, and the things you had witnessed.

"What about Azriel?!"

The Shadowsinger shrugged, his hand resting on your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, "I've only ever been entranced by my mate, Cassian," Azriel drawled, sipping the amber liquid swirling in his rocks glass like molten bronze, "It's you and Rhys who are afraid of her."

"If it's any consolation, I don't blame you."

Cassian frowned, turning to Nesta and asking, "Are you scared of her?"

"No," she answered a little too quickly, so quickly that you had quirked your brow at the sound, "I find y/n to be quite exciting."

"Exciting?" Cassian moved to Feyre and asked the same question, his manhood decaying when she too said that you didn't scare her, "Mor?"

The blonde who could not rival your beauty had always watched you from afar, and had always enjoyed how you made males squirm. Mor rose her glass to the stars and stated, "Bring every man you meet to their motherfucking knees, y/n."

"Amen to that," Amren tipped her glass in response, downing the rest of the thick red sap and finally feeling at home in the presence of her family thanks to you, and she eternally thanked the male sat beside you for being able to breathe some light into the storm cloud that was your mind.

"Mother above," Rhys grumbled, the women in his life uniting and itching to wreck havoc. The action of Rhys swiping his hand down his face, dragging the skin slightly toward in frustration, made a deep chuckle float from your lips, so serene that Nesta likened the sound to a siren call and found herself drawn to it. "Did I just make you laugh?" Rolling your eyes, you nodded at the High Lord who turned toward his mate, "This is the best day of my life," then back to you, "Does this mean that we're friends?"

Rhys waited expectantly, childlike orbs pleading to you with their innocence. You had no friends bar Amren and you were content with that. It meant that you only had one thing to lose. But as Azriel laid his hand on the small of your back, gaining your attention and giving you an expression of promise, the resolve of your solitude cracked, "Why not?"

The door to the River House flew open, a sudden shrill chill soaring through the air from the wild winds battering against the city, no doubt spurred on by your fury.

Many months had passed, and in that time you had truly blossomed, sure you still wore the mask of the devil on your features in public, but when you were with the Inner Circle, a group of people you now proudly belonged to, that mask drifted away like ash in the autumn breeze; and when Azriel was beside you, it felt as though warmth and happiness was all that you ever knew.

Much to Elain's upset, you and Azriel had officially accepted the bond and had locked yourselves away for four weeks to make the most out of every single moment together, and Rhys had been understanding enough of the bond between you both to not drag your mate away on another mission. The bond between you and Azriel was something that Rhys had never seen before, not even between him and Feyre.

"She tastes like every dark thought I've ever had."

The ceremony itself had been astonishing.

The women of the Inner Circle had spent the better part of two days dressing your apartment for the occasion and Feyre had made it quite clear that the upcoming ceremony was going to make theirs look ridiculous in comparison. Rhys was split between jealousy and awe when he saw it.

No one had ever stepped into the apartment beside Amren and Azriel, he had decided to move into the apartment after your return from the four-week sabbatical at the cabin, it was as though you were gifting them with the last part of you, allowing them to see what they could never fathom.

Faelights were strewn across the ceiling, curling around the arched windows that displayed the golden valley of the city in a way Rhys had never been able to appreciate before; tucked between the vines of the lights was fresh foliage, an array of green hue ferns caressing fully blossomed white roses and pale blue peonies. Sprigs of cedar and rosemary had been wove between the foliage and flowers alongside splinters of sandalwood, filling the room with the physical aspects of your scents.

Only the Inner Circle had been invited, and as you were dressing in your room with Amren, you could hear Nesta whining of her foolish jealousy of having to watch Azriel marry you. Amren had simply raised a brow and smirked at you through the mirror as she finished securing your veil to the back of your head.

There was no one you would want to share the moment with other than her.

Amren had blindfolded you, leading you through the home so that the gift wouldn't be ruined just so that you could get ready together, for the most important and deserving night of your life.

The dress that you had meticulously chosen was the most incredible garment Amren had ever seen, so much so that the first time you had tried it on in front of her, she had nearly cried at the beauty of it; and there you now stood, twisting in the mirror and running your hands down the hem of your veil and then your hips. The dress was made entirely of white lace that you had imported from the Day Court, an off-the-shoulder neckline and sleeves that kissed your wrists, it was elegant and graceful, and made the freckles of your trauma glow like shooting stars.

A gentle knock had sounded at the door and Rhys stepped in, taking one look at you and finding his breath catching in his throat. "You look amazing," he breathed, approaching you with his hands deep within his pockets.

The High Lord had been honoured when you had sheepishly asked him to walk you down the aisle; Rhys had found himself consumed with the need to protect you, after seeing your guard disappear, he saw who you truly were, a woman who just wanted to be loved and protected, and ready to allow other people to do it for her after spending so long doing it herself.

"Are you ready?" Inhaling deeply, you nodded and turned to him, noting the outstretched hand before you and feeling your usual anxiety bubbling in your gut. Rhys, realising that he shouldn't have done something so bold, went to retreat but halted when you took a small step toward him, reaching your fingers out to his palm and sliding them into his grasp.

Azriel was right, your skin was a smooth as honey.

A gentle smile of triumph later, you spoke, "I'm ready."

It was that moment that Rhys was begging you to remember as you barrelled through his house, no doubt heading straight for him in the confinements of his office.

He could feel your anger slam through the walls, your footsteps sounding up the staircase and stopping at the top of the hall, a pause to remember just how much you liked him before stalking down the hall and bursting into his office. Rhys cringed, knowing what was coming as you strode to his desk and slapped your palms flat against the wood.

"If you ever," you pointed your perfectly manicured finger in his face, "Send my mate back to me in that state again. I. Will. Destroy. You."

The snarl of your words sent a shiver coursing down his spine, and in that moment you were the y/n he had met one-hundred years ago. Cold. Distant. Almost demonic.

In his defence, he hadn't sent Azriel on an overly dangerous mission, it wasn't his fault that his Spymaster was ambushed in The Middle. Azriel's spilled blood was entirely his own fault in Rhys' eyes, "I didn't mean for him to get hurt, y/n."

The rushed footsteps of another sounded in the hall, and when Rhys looked past your deeply heaving form, he was relieved beyond compare when he saw a bruised Azriel approaching, "Angel, it wasn't his fault. I was distracted," his voice grew louder as he paced closer to the pair of you, appearing at your side and turning your head in his fingers to face him, "I was thinking about you and I didn't hear them coming."

Watching your shoulders drop, Rhys sighed and wiped away an invisible bead of sweat from his brow, sitting back down and continuing his viewing just as you tilted your head to the side and popped out your bottom lip.

"You were?" Azriel's eyes softened and he dipped his gaze to meet yours, "That's the most romantic thing you've ever done. You were attacked because you were thinking about me, you actually bled because you were thinking about me?"

Rhys could only watch on perplexed at your words, you threw yourself into Azriel's arms, muttering small apologies for brushing against the bruises littering his abdomen, "She's crazy."

The Shadowsinger could only huff, too entrapped by you to really reprimand him, "Yeah," his eyes opened lazily, brimming with exhaustion, "But she's my crazy."

Azriel's shadows curled over your shoulders and shuddered, crying to be as close to you as possible, like they were trying to entwine with your soul so that you one day may carry them with you wherever you walked. In whatever world.

A bond like yours was made to topple temples and shatter worlds, it was made to transcend time and space; and as you wrapped an arm around your mate and led him from the office, not without sending one more warning glare to the male you had come to love as a brother, Rhys knew that no matter where either of you went, there would be no place that you could travel to where the other would not follow.

Author’s Note

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[ennawrite]

my obsession is not so much with ACOTAR itself but with the potential of what ACOTAR could be.

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[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Sunkissed

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The inner circle goes on holiday and Azzie is just allllll over his girl <3

Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you so much for all the love on my last story!

Image Credit: Pinterest

“It’s my pleasure,” Helion smirked, addressing the crowd with his words yet focusing his eyes on her. His brown skin reflected golden in the sun, the white cloth of his draped garment seeming to glow with it.

“Ever the generous host you are, Helion,” She played along for fun, the nature– and limits– of their flirty yet friendly relationship barely a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare displease you,” Helion purred. “You shouldn’t want for anything here. Just say the words, darling, and I’ll personally take care of it.”

Azriel was not the jealous type. He knew the effect he had on her, even all this time, and knew even better the effect she still had on him. It was like no time had passed since they’d been newly mated. His skin flushed as he recalled that initial period, how love-drunk he’d been, truly sated for the first time in his life by her burning affection, having his fill of her taste, and touch, and beautiful mind yet never getting enough of it at the same time.

He was a fool when it came to her, his brothers knew it, she knew it, and Azriel himself would not deny it either.

Yet his skin tightened over his bones and his shirt collar constricted the base of his thick neck ever so slightly as he walked behind her, watching Helion’s eyes trace her form, catching at her collarbones. The thought of him, another male, trying to provide for her, meet her every need, giving her anything… Azriel’s blood boiled. That was his place. He watched as his mate laughed dismissively, unobservant of Helion’s intense gaze.

She was beautiful, charming, and witty. No one could deny it. Rhys did not make her his foreign advisor for no reason. Azriel was quite used to people staring and trying to win her affections, but usually it never bothered him. Because at the end of the day, it was his ears that heard her thoughts and secrets, his eyes that watched her take on the world with grace and strength, and it was his bed they shared every night. He felt secure in their bond and she only had eyes for him, despite the entire world trying to court her at any given moment.

Mor and Feyre shared an amused, knowing glance at each other, studying the three as Rhys took over the conversation.

Helion led the group to his private lake just behind his palace. He was gracious in allowing the Inner Circle to have their summer holiday at his place in the Day Court, granting them access to his entire estate and anything on it for as long as they wished. “There are no such things as debts or favors when it comes to friends,” he said when he offered the location to Rhys in the first place.

The lake was downright gorgeous. Velaris was beautiful, but the Sidra could not compare to the Day Court’s waters even on its best day, a truth Azriel had kept to himself and Cassian had no problem voicing to Rhys. Its turquoise waters stretched for miles and miles, the sandy floor, algae, and tiny native fish visible through the watery looking glass. The palace sat behind them, watching protectively over its best-kept secret, and a vast expanse of green mountains rose on either side, their jagged edges softened by the lush native trees and vegetation. They curved around the lake the same way the gold of a crown hugs its jewel, enclosing it tightly in its earthy palm. Flowers trailed from the balcony down to the beach, the mud and sand padding the rock where the water met the earth. Blankets and a large wicker picnic basket lay ready on the beach.

Mor grabbed her and Feyre in her either of hands and dragged them down to the beach in a giddy, childish run. Azriel’s guiding, protective hand that had been poised at the small of her back suddenly felt cold at the fingertips as she was whisked away, her warm skin no longer close enough to soothe his skin like a balm.

He watched as she shed her clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the blankets. She laughed as Mor threw her dress over the picnic basket and picked out the gold pins in her hair, one by one, letting them land where they wanted to.

Azriel’s cheeks burned and his heart hammered with desire as he watched her shimmy out of her clothing, exposing her soft skin to the touch of the sun. The two-piece swimming slip adorned her curves so perfectly, like the garment was in love with its wearer. He’d picked it out for her. Her hair caught the breeze like something out of a novel and he swore he could smell her soap on the breeze even from all the way over where he was. Everytime he looked at her he felt like he was taking her in for the first time all over again. Part of him almost wanted to turn away with how difficult he suddenly found it to breathe, but he reminded himself with giddy disbelief, she’s mine.

“Easy,” Cassian muttered with a smirk, scenting him.

Azriel cleared his throat and Rhys sent him a boyish smile while continuing his conversation with Helion. Nesta and Amren joined the girls getting ready to get into the water while Elain and Varian settled on the blankets, books in each of their laps.

Mor was the first in the water, squealing at the sensation of it, cold at first, but warming to a luxurious temperature almost immediately. She laced her fingers with Feyre’s and they immediately followed Mor, throwing their heads back and laughing.

She savored the feel of the water against her skin, letting herself melt into its grasp and flow, letting it spread her hair behind her back and thread its liquid fingers through her strands. She submerged herself, gliding through the water until she was further out than anyone else. She’d waited for this holiday even before she knew they were going. She adored swimming, but there weren’t too many spots to do so in Velaris. In the water like this, enveloped in the lapping, balmy embrace of its ripples, she was at peace. Squealing, she beckoned the rest of the girls towards her, waving to Azriel from where he stood smiling like an idiot at her on the beach. He was shirtless now, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Azriel thought the sun complemented her skin, but in her eyes, it downright worshiped his. A glow even brighter than Helion’s overly-dramatic gold crown beamed from every inch of his body, tan and beautiful, broad and strong. She needed him in the water now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a splash of water to her face. She gasped and laughed at the unexpected sensation, Mor and Feyre giggling like schoolgirls at their mischief.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel settled back into the blankets, supporting themselves with elbows that dug divots in the sand.

“Did you ever imagine this life for us?” Cassian asked his brothers as each of them watched their mates in the water.

They rarely got a holiday, and it was even more rare that they allowed themselves to take one if they had the time. Of course, it was Rhys that encouraged this outing in the first place. When Azriel and Amren refused, he required it, as their High Lord, to take the holiday with everyone else.

That wasn’t what convinced Azriel, though. It was his mate's excited chatter about the prospect of the holiday at Helion’s lake with all of their friends, getting to spend time with each other outside of Velaris, visiting another court without the prospect of war hovering over them, being able to swim for the first time in so long. She could hardly wait to feel the water on her skin, to feel the sun on her face, and to spend time with Azriel, experience a new place together. He couldn’t say no as he sat back on their bed and watched her try on her new swimming slips for him, as she packed their bags so early in advance because she could hardly wait.

No, Azriel would not take this vacation because of Rhys’ orders as High Lord of the Night Court, but because it made his soulmate so unbelievably happy. That was all the reason he needed.

Azriel shook his head. “I never would have expected it to be this good. Every day feels like I’m waking up in a dream when she’s next to me.”

His brothers could not even ridicule him for his uncharacteristic sappiness. None of them expected to have mates, let alone be so loved by them, when they were just three boys in a war camp deep in the Illyrian mountains. They did not dare to imagine anything about their future for fear of never seeing it. An rough-and-ready lordling and two bastards. What odds.

Life wasn’t always perfect– there would always be Hybern and their human sympathizers, and probably a hundred other things, to worry about. But with their loves in their lives and talks of starting families, they supposed it was as close to perfect as the Cauldron would allow.

The women spent some time in the water, swimming, splashing, lounging, and talking with their mates watching them as they talked amongst themselves. When they decided to get out to eat, Feyre challenged them all to a race.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Feyre raised her brows at Azriel’s mate, her closest friend out of them all, with mischief in her eyes. “Just because you’ve bested me in two other races doesn’t mean you’ll have this one too.”

“I think it does,” she smirked devilishly.

Feyre broke into a swim for the shore to the dismay of the other women. Amidst shouts of protest at Feyre’s unfair start, everyone else began their dash to the shore.

She sliced through the water like a knife through butter, already ahead of Mor, Nesta, and Amren, the latter of which refused to participate. Surpassing Feyre like a born nymph, she barely had to try as her body fell into the familiar motion of cutting through the soft waves of the lake until she felt the water shallow beneath her belly and she was able to stand.

The water swished at her ankles as her feet touched land once again, running up the beach. At the sight of Azriel waiting a little ways down with her towel in his hand, she all but forgot about the race. She ran toward him, blushing at his gaze. He immediately rolled the towel open and wrapped it around her as she ran into him, securing the towel with strong arms that wrapped around her body and swayed her gently with the momentum of her sprint. His strong presence was enough to halt her and she savored the feeling of his body at her back, his warmth seeping through he towel and caressing her water-frozen skin.

She was breathing deeply now, chest rising and falling under his arm. Azriel reveled in the thrum of her heart under his hold, willing it to ease.

Azriel nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and she giggled, ticklish and giddy at his proximity.

“Did you see the race, Az? I wooon,” she sang, reaching an arm out of the towel to hold his face behind her. She leaned back against his chest, craning her neck up to meet his eyes, eyes that were absolutely drunk on watching her high. She was naturally competitive, much like he was during his snowball fights with his brothers. Watching her in her element filled him with pride to an extent she would never fully know.

“I did, I’m so proud of you, honey,” he smiled, sliding one of his arms up until it was slung across her chest, connecting his lips with hers. She tasted like the water, sweet and fresh. Azriel couldn’t help himself as he grabbed her waist. It was like drinking from a fountain with an eternal thirst he couldn’t quench. More, more, more. He didn’t care who was around.

She pulled away, flustered. “You sure don’t mind putting on a show,” she turned around fully in his arms so that she was facing him now. The towel had fallen slightly, now hung loosely around the crooks of her elbows. Her wet hair fell in waves around her face and to him, she looked like a goddess of the water. He was barely religious, the furthest thing from it really, but he’d devote himself to her for nothing in return.

After the food had been brought out, the Inner Circle enjoyed the lunchtime feast of bread, wine, fruit, and meats. After everyone had eaten their fill, namely Cassian who was half passed out on his back, they lounged on the beach. Nesta nestled into Cassian’s broad side with her book, speaking to Elain quietly. Amren and Varian had rattled off somewhere right after they were done eating– insatiable those two were. Mor was laying on her back, facing the sun, catching a tan.

“I’m so happy we did this,” Feyre said softly, addressing the group. “It feels like lately our joy has come from short-lived bursts of happiness or quiet. I can’t tell you all what it means to me that we can have this time without preparing for the worst.”

Rhys rubbed a soothing thumb over her shoulder. Everyone raised their glasses to that.

Azriel leaned back into the sand, one arm folded under his head and the other extended as his mate rested her head on the inside of his bicep. Tired from swimming and full from their meal, she curled into his side, draping a leg across his.

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” She murmured into the side of his chest, peppering kisses there on his warm, tan skin. Azriel brought his arm around her, pulling her closer and resting a hand over her hip, enjoying the heat of her sun-kissed skin beneath it.

He rested his mouth at the top of his forehead as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was like her sleeping drug. Whenever they sat back together to watch a movie, read their books, or on nights in with their friends for some wine and card games, she could hardly stay awake beside him.

His heart swelled. She felt so comfortable around him that her guards collapsed to dust in his presence. She gave herself fully to him, to his care, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold her any tighter at that moment.

Helion came out to check on his guests. “Like a litter of babes, the lot of you,” He chuckled as he took in his friends, exhausted and full, lazing about his private beach. His eyes floated over to her, to her dozing form beside her mate, beautiful and soft. Peaceful. Azriel was aware of his gaze– he always was aware of anyone perceiving his mate. He only opened his book and continued skimming his fingers on her hips above the waistband of her swimsuit. She was blissfully unaware, half awake, half dreaming, lulled into a world of dreams and darkness by the steadiness of Azriel’s breath and light touch.

After the group of friends were well rested, everyone made their way into the water again. Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel raced out to the middle of the lake, Azriel the obvious winner and it wasn’t even close. Cassian batted a wave of water over Az with his wing in tantrum and Rhys only laughed until his stomach throbbed. They played chicken, Nesta on Cassian’s shoulders and she on Azriel’s. Mor wanted to pretend-play mermaids and they dragged the males in on their fun. They begrudgingly played along, yet were silently more than happy to oblige them. Nesta placed a crown of algae on Cassian’s head and he fully committed to his part as King of the Plankton. They floated on their backs, swam in circles, and splashed waves at each other.

Climbing the jagged, rocky cliffs on either side of the lake, they jumped off of their ledges into the water below, in flips and turns, nosedives and backflips. The setting sun cooled the water, a pink and purple sky above their heads melting into an inky blue that lined the horizon.

A perfect day.

Everyone grew tired again. From the beach music began to play. Light and upbeat, but beautiful and soft– distinctly Day Court.

Azriel gently grabbed her hand, leading her behind one of the cliffs they had jumped off of. It was the largest cliff jutting out of the lake and provided complete privacy when they were on the other side of it.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone all day,” Azriel said, removing a hand from under the surface of the water and moving a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. He took in her tanned skin and sun-blushed shoulders and cheeks.

“All you had to do was ask,” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Azriel’s self control snapped like a rubber band and he pushed his body through the water against her, pinning her to the rock behind them. His hand cradled the back of her head against the jagged cuts of the cliff. He needed more, but he paced himself, letting himself savor the feel of her skin under the water. Azriel ran his hand up and down the side of her stomach, his fingertips trailing the skin as he moved. Her skin pebbled in the wake of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine. Even in his frenzy he took his time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slanted his lips over hers, water sloshing between their bodies in whatever space was left.

She sighed into his mouth and it drove him crazy. Pressing her chest to his, she needed to be as close as could, within his very being if it was possible.

“If I could just crawl into your skin and live inside your heart I would,” She told him one drunken night when she’d gotten so trashed with Nesta and Mor that he needed to fly her back home rather than walk like they always did after a night out. Azriel never forgot those words, and everytime they kissed or hugged he was reminded of them with an intensity that made his chest squeeze.

“Az,” She whispered into his mouth. His hands lowered from her waist to her hips, thumbs skimming the waistband of her bottoms again.

She couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how much time passed, he drove her absolutely mad. They’d only stopped for air once they absolutely could not breathe anymore, and even then, Azriel didn’t pull too far away, needing to feel her breath on him.

“What has gotten into you today?” She laughed lightly, though definitely not complaining. It was not like him to be so risky, to be so passionate when they weren’t completely alone.

“I just love you,” was all he said.

Night fell over the Day Court slowly but surely. The day had gone on forever. By the time it was dark enough, some of Helion’s housekeepers started a bonfire and replenished the beach with more food and wine.

She laid down on the blankets again with Azriel beside her, propped up on his elbow and leaning on his side so he was looking directly down at her. Their legs were intertwined and they laughed and spoke softly, a bit away from the rest of the group.

Azriel’s free hand rested on the plane of her soft belly, listening more than he spoke. Of course he was a man of few words, but around her, he enjoyed letting her speak. It was one of his favorite things, learning more and more about the way her brilliant mind worked with the things she said.

With her thoughts, ideas, and opinions, he thought she was incredibly intelligent– the smartest person he knew. He learned so much from her eloquent tongue, adoration filling him from head to toe when she went on her tangents.

The first time she even went on one of her rants in front of him, even before the bond had snapped into place, she was flustered and apologized to Azriel. At the time, she didn’t know Azriel liked her back and dread filled her veins at the idea that she possibly scared him away for good. But he simply shook his head and encouraged her, asking questions and helping her carry the conversation when he felt it start to falter with her hesitation.

They rejoined their friends at some point– he couldn’t remember when, or how long they’d been lost in each other. When she said she wanted to go sit with everyone else for a bit, he agreed. He’d always follow her wherever she led, no questions asked. Back up the beach, up to their room, to the ends of the earth, even.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #rhysand #rhys acotar #cassian #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #amren acotar #mor acotar #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar series

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello everything is fine? I would like to make a request to Rhysand

Something where maybe Rhys, the reader, and the rest of the group were on a game night, and the reader and Rhys are obviously always paired up, and they almost always win, but then the rest of the group, maybe in another round , put the reader with someone else? and Rhys stays with Feyre, then the reader is dying of jealousy (the reader and Rhys are partners) and Rhys wins over the reader? But then when someone humiliates the reader, Rhys gets super angry and takes revenge on her?

Game night disaster

Rhysand x Reader

Warnings; angst, swearing.

Masterlist

Night had settled around Velaris and the house of wind couldn’t be more alive, it is Friday night and that translates into game night for your family. You were currently sitting on the ground in front of the couch and between your mate’s -Rhys’ legs. Amusement flashed in your eyes as you watched Nesta almost beating Cassian because he couldn’t explain the word written on his card making them lose a point. You and Rhys were on fire like usual leaving everyone more than 10 points behind.

“It’s unfair, you two always win. Game nights are becoming awfully boring.” Mor whined pointing at you and Rhys, and everyone nodded in agreement. “They probably have created a code that’s how they keep winning” Cassian exclaimed.

“Yeah right, you just can’t accept the fact that we are better than you” Rhys replied to him, his eyes flashing with mischief. He always liked to get under Cassian’s skin.

“I think we should change partners” Nesta spoke. You glanced around noticing how everyone seemed to agree so you just shrugged. You didn’t like the idea of competing against Rhysand, neither of you could stand losing and you knew that if one of you won and the other lost you would probably spend the rest of the night bickering. You didn’t have a choice though because if you disagreed it would look like you were indeed cheating.

Mor placed pieces of paper in a small bowl with all your names written on them and shook it. Then picking piece after piece she announced;

“Okay so Nesta with Azriel, Amren with Elain, Cassian with y/n, me with Lucien and Rhys with Feyre”

You didn’t even have the time to curse about being paired with Cassian who completely sucked at the game as you heard who Rhys was paired with. Not her. You thought. You didn’t have anything against Feyre, and deep down you knew that they are just friends, but you couldn’t stop thinking how she saved him from Amarantha while you were stuck in Velaris not able to leave the city to help him. He knew what would happen at the party and he warded the house so you couldn’t leave with him. You scratching the air between the doorframe and screaming at him to let you out, and him with a sad smile muttering “I love you” again and again until the darkness swallowed him, only when he was locked under the mountain you were able to exit the house. That was the last memory you had of him before everything that happened. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t try to exit Velaris to find him, but every time you were pushed back by the wards he placed before leaving. And one day… he returned because a human girl saved him, saved everyone. They share the same trauma. They even have a bargaining bond. Losing him to Feyre will always be your biggest fear.

“Y/n! Come here” Cassian’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You noticed that everyone had changed seats, and they were waiting for you to move next to Cassian, you glanced at Feyre who was sitting next to Rhysand on the couch -way too close for your liking. Rhys stretched to give you a kiss as you stood up, but you completely ignored him and crossed the room taking a seat next to Cassian. Rhys’ eyes stayed on you, a hurt expression on his face, you felt his talons caressing the shield around your mind and you added a second layer of adamant wall making him flinch. You could feel the anger slithering around your mating bond, and you shoved your jealousy down before blocking him from there too. Realization hit him and he only rolled his eyes.

Fine. You thought and turned your focus on the game.

Mor and Lucien guessed 4 cards, Amren and Elain 5.

It was your mate’s turn.

Rhys guessed 7 of the cards Feyre was explaining and she jumped on him hugging him tightly and squealing.

Cassian placed his hand on yours pulling your gaze from them, he offered you a comforting smile and gave you the cards, Nesta and Azriel were next and after them it was you and Cassian.

When Feyre removed herself from your mate’s lap, he didn’t dare to look at you, he just stared at his hands.

Nesta was able to guess 4 cards and then it was your turn.

“Okay..” you breathed and read the first card.

“Feyre threw this at Rhys” you started.

“Shoe” Cassian exclaimed, and everyone burst into laughter.

“You can find this in the winter court” “Uhm… Kallias” “It’s white”

“Oh I know…snow”

“yes yes… okay uhm flirty..” “Helion”

“YES, where are the Archeron sisters from” “Mortal lands” “Yesss, Lucien’s sexy brother” -Lucien choked on his wine. Rhysand scoffed. “Ew Eris” Cassian gagged.

“Uhm you and Nesta are…”

“MATES” “Oof okay uhm all Illyrians have them” “Wings?” “No you wear those” “Weapons?” “NO what else are you wearing” “TIME” Nesta shouted “You got six so that makes Rhys and Feyre tonight’s winners” “Leathers” you muttered and slapped Cassian on the back of his head.

Lucien clapped and said “Turns out Rhysand is the smart one, I always suspected it no offense y/n but you never seemed bright to me”

Silence.

You froze. Violet eyes snapped on you, you felt your face heating and your eyes watering.

A low growl filled the silence, power created by the darkest night filled the room making everyone shiver. “Say that again” Rhys’ voice was lethal, filled with rage and painful promises.

Lucien gulped, his eye wide as he stared at Rhys.

“If I remember correctly, you only guessed four cards so if six cards mean that y/n isn’t bright what does four make you?” Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on Lucien who was squirming on his seat. Everyone was staring wide-eyed, and no one dared to say anything. Rhys was absolutely terrifying especially when he got so mad.

“Answer me little fox” If him glaring was terrifying then the feline smile he now had on his face was out of this world. Poor Lucien was shaking.

“Rhys enough” you stood up and approached your mate. He got up and pushed you behind him.

“If you even look at her the wrong way, I will fucking scoop your only eye out and I will feed it to you. Now get the fuck out of my court”. And with that he pulled you out, his wings emerged from the darkness, and he pulled you in his arms shooting up.

The flight was silent, you didn’t know what to say so you decided to let him cool off, everything could wait until you were home.

Once you were in your home you hurried off to your shared bedroom, you needed a moment to pull your thoughts in order. You changed in one of your nightgowns and sat on the bed. You couldn’t believe what had happened in the last hours, how could a game night end up like this. With a deep breath you went back downstairs finding Rhys in the living room sitting on the armchair by the fireplace, a glass filled with whiskey in his hand. He was still fuming. You approached him and climbed on his lap nesting your face in his neck. His hand moved to the back of your head, and he started stroking your hair.

“I’m sorry” he muttered. “Why?” “I should’ve removed Feyre from my lap” he explained and kissed your head. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t get jealous of her… I know you love me” you whispered and nuzzled his neck harder. You wanted as much contact as you could get.

“No it’s not okay, if I saw you on another male’s lap I would fucking kill him...I will talk to Feyre.” he pulled you further onto him.

“Thank you… for everything” your voice was barely above a whisper as sleep was taking over.

“Anything for you sweetheart” he whispered leaving a soft kiss on your head.

You woke up the next morning in your bed, Rhys was spooning you, a strong arm around your waist, legs tangled, and a wing draped over you.

I hope you like it. Requests are open.

#acotar #acotar series #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acosf #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster #feyre archeron #elain archeron #the morrigan #mor acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #amren