#Feyre x Rhysand

[offthepages]

And so the stars aligned. Pt 3

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader.

Summary: After a few weeks of Azriel teaching you to read, your sisters confront you about how much time you’re spending with him.

Warnings: Some slight suggestive stuff? Nothing explicit.

Ageless and MDNI

a/n: I know that I should probably- not upload so often. However, this has been knawing at my brain all day and I really just needed to post it so I can write the next part.

Part One, Part two

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You and Azriel walked up toward the exit of the Library after yet another reading lesson. Your arms linked, as you let your hand rest on his forearm. He always offered you a hand, an arm, something to keep you close to him. Not that you minded being closer to him. The Illyrian was tall, warm, and very easy to hold onto. His scarred hands never purposely reached for yours, but sometimes you’d brush hands as you exchanged books or he delicately took the pencil from you to help you spell. You’d have to think pure thoughts for the next few hours. Keeping your mind off of what you wanted to feel them doing.

For about two weeks you’d meet here for a few hours each day and practice your writing, spelling, reading, and anything else Azriel deemed important for you to know. Clotho had stopped him apparently from bringing in a punching bag to train you. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard tears gathered and your stomach hurt after, when you walked down to the fifth floor only to see him pouting about it. "You big Illyrian baby." You coo'd after your laughs died down. And you rubbed his shoulders a little. He hadn't looked you in the eyes that day. But the lessons were working, you could now confidently read through the stack of books he brought to every meeting.

“I think we can upgrade to chapter books soon.” He speaks up, pulling your attention away from your thoughts. His warm, honey gaze finds yours as he lets a soft smile break through that normally stoic face of his.

“You think so?” You hum, with a slight tinge of hope. Maybe you could actually read the book you toted around thanks to him.

Azriel nods, closing his eyes as he does so. “Mmh. You’ve got the foundation down. Now we expand it.” His voice is smooth and calm. He spoke with ease, and somewhere deep within you it made you feel safe, calm. You’d wondered if that’s why you learned so quickly, because the words you didn’t know- they sounded like rich, warm melty chocolate in his voice. And you’d repeat it in your head all night long as you laid there in bed recounting your day. You didn't want to admit to yourself how late you stayed up thinking about him.

Your reply to Az gets cut short however as you hear your oldest sister's voice cut through the library. “Ah! If it isn’t our one and only, y/n.” Her voice drips in condescension, and normally you could handle Nesta. She didn’t scare you, not like the others at least. You knew her and knew that tone, you knew that tone of voice all too well. She was like a lion ready to pounce. Relentless teasing awaited you as you gazed at your sister. And she knew it too, watching you with a feline smirk as her hands rested on her hips in a power pose.

“Nesta.” You nod at her, removing your arm from where it had safely rested in the crook of Azriel’s arm. Immediately feeling colder, less protected. Vulnerable in front of your sister now. You felt the cool swirling sensation of Azriel’s shadows rising to attention, aware and ready to pull you back if needed. Nesta raised an eyebrow at the two of you, a slight smirk she tried to will into nothing. “How can I help you?” It was then you noticed your other two sisters, and now your brow furrowed. Elain stood smiling dumbly, like a love sick little puppy at Azriel. Her eyes raking over him. Something in her gaze made the hair on your arms stand, and you wanted her to stop looking at him like a piece of meat. Feyre stood watching you with a quirked eyebrow and a little grin. Her blue grey eyes shinning in amusement, like she too couldn’t wait to tease you. But it wasn’t everyday your sisters came together. Had something happened? Was everything okay?

Nesta looks Azriel up and down, not in the same way Elain had been. No she was sizing him up, in a fight you’re not sure the shadowsinger would win. Squinting at him before using her chin to motion him out. “We can assist her home. Thank you.” Nesta’s tone leaves no room for argument. Azriel for the briefest moment locks eyes with you. Asking you silently if you’d be okay with that, so you give a subtle nod. His shadows swirl around him again, something that was less common when it was just you too. They always pooled around your feet like a dog. You wondered if you could pet them. Unable to help the smile that spreads, you give a small wave to see him off. Watching him hesitate as he looked at you and your sisters, but his eyes glossed over and he chuckled lowly under his breath. And gods what you wouldn’t do to hear that sound again. Feyre must have said something to him with her daemanti powers.

So with that, Azriel left your side. Albeit a little unwillingly as he pressed a kiss to your temple before glaring at Nesta as she coo'd at you. He disappeared into the shadows. Leaving you now with your sisters who were all staring at you expectantly. Suddenly you felt like you were nothing but a child in front of them. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar and chocolate smeared on your face. Subconsciously you wiped your lips. "…hello." You greeted.

Nesta continued to smirk as she watched you. Knowing what her gaze did to her youngest sister. She uses her head to motion them out, not waiting for anyone to argue with her. And the rest of the Archerons followed suit, finally, Feyre speaks up, as if she didn’t just bombard you and demand you go with her. "So, will you join us for lunch?"

"I don't think I had a choice." You jest, elbowing her playfully. Feyre looks over at you with slightly wide eyes, as if feigning hurt, before her smile breaks through. Her laughter becoming instantly contagious. “Whose idea was this?" You look over at Nesta and Elain.

"Why must there be a reason for sisters to hang out?" Elain shrugs, looking at you with an amused smile and shooting you a wink. Squinting at your sister she can’t help but just smile more. Nesta just winks at you as she leads you to Rita's, it didn't surprise you that it was Nesta's favorite restaurant. With the vibrant music that always played, sometimes accompanied with bad karaoke singers; those were your favorite nights. Rita’s was a busy place- easy for conversations to get lost amongst others. Oh, and of course, the food was delicious. You truly didn't mind going out to lunch with your sisters, it was nice to have an actual familial bond with them.

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Conversation came easy as you all discussed everything and anything. Catching up with each other like old friends, part of it made you long for this in your girlhood. It would have made those years of poverty just a little brighter. Feyre told everyone how Rhys was trying to teach Nyx to fly, except for the fact that Nyx's wings were still too floppy to work. You admired the way that she lit up talking about her family. Seeing her happy meant that maybe you’d be that happy one day too. Nesta tells everyone about Gywn and Emerie's recent book recommendations. And her words made you long for friends that could talk back, unlike the flowers in the gardens. Elain discusses her garden plans- and even asks what they think about her opening a flower shop. You wondered if she’d let you work there, it be so nice to get out of the house. To have a purpose.

And then- like the vultures that your sisters were, their eyes landed on you. Blinking owlishly at them, you noted Feyres smirk. Nesta had a raised eyebrow as she rested her head on her intertwined fingers. Elain had her hands folded neatly in front of her. This just became an interrogation. "…what?" You ask, looking around to see if there is a reason why they're looking at you like this. Your heart beating a mile a minute, and you tried to subtly wipe your now sweaty palms on your dress. “Did I do something?”

"Let's get to the real tea." Feyre grins, setting her drink down and putting a hand on yours. She knew physical touch was one way to help you calm down. She’d offended used it to help comfort you as a child. "What is going on with you and Azriel."

You blink again and suddenly- you can't help the laughter that erupts from you. They had truly thought something was going on with you and Azriel! As if it wasn't obvious that Azriel was hopelessly in love with Elain! You wave away the ridiculously thoughts coming out of your sisters mouths. “You guys are ridiculous" You laugh, sighing heavily as you continue to grin. "Nothing is going on between us."

"He meets with you every Friday for hours," Elain says sharply. Her tone catching you and your other sisters off guard. And for a second, your hurt. Hurt that she could ever use that tone with you, not believe the words you were saying. "Something is going on."

Your eyes lock onto Elain's and there's anger in hers. She's upset about it, upset that you made a friend. She had friends! She had Cerridwen, and Nuala! The was two more than you had. Ever. Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you watch how she tries to intimidate you into answering her. Was this how you looked that first night in the Library? Is that why Azriel laughed at you? Elain looked as harmless as a kitten. "Nothing like your thinking." You reply cooly, trying not to start a fight with your sister. That was the last thing you wanted to do, and Cauldron. It would ruin the friendship you and Azriel had just started to form. That hot headed, stubborn Archeron temper didn’t need to come out now. Not when there was another hardheaded and stubborn Archeron in front of you.

"So then it shouldn't be a big deal to tell us." Elain snaps back. Nesta and Feyre exchange a look at the two of you. You can feel your blood boiling at her tone. But you knew you had to stay cool, calm and level headed. So as gingerly as you can, you reply.

"It's none of your business." And you would have thought you just insulted Elain by the way her face twisted with rage. She puts her hands on the table and stands with a swift, graceful movement. The chair loudly scooting out from behind her, dragging attention to the table. But Elain didn’t seem to care. Staring at you with fire in her eyes, like logs on a campfire.

"As your sister, it is. And as someone who is in lov-"

Knowing exactly what was about to come out of her mouth, you feel the ugly green monster boiling up inside you. You couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. She had a mate. Someone who wasn't Azriel. What happened when Azriel found his mate? What then? Would she demand that he stay away? It was ridiculous. An absolute ridiculous thing to say and expect of someone else. In a less graceful, more forceful way. Your chair shoots out the same way, and you thank the mother Feyre grabbing it before it could fall. You match Elain's actions as you glower at her. Surprised by how low your voice had gotten, "You have a mate. That you claim you don't love because you simply refuse to get to know him. Lucien is a kind man, he gets you a Winter Solstice present every year and tries to make it as thoughtful as he can while knowing so little about you. He is allowing-"

"Allowing?" Elain laughs shortly, "I should be grateful for him allowing me to reject him?" Her eyes bare into yours as if she is trying to find any little thread to unravel you with.

"Have you even told him you rejected him!?" You shout back at her. You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, people were usually quiet, and gentle with Elain. And here you were screaming at her in a bar…

Elain's face drops but it doesn't stop you from going in again, despite knowing you had made your point. This was about more than just her rejection of Lucien. It was about the lack of care and compassion your sister showed a man who tried to help her. "He is allowing you space- which you asked for, mind you! He could be all over you; there are horror stories of mates, Elain! But instead of trying to get to know him you instead clung onto someone else. And what? You're in love with someone else's mate? Lucien is a good, kind man. And it’s also not his fault that you were mated from the moment you stepped out of the cauldron. But he tried to be there for you. Badgered us about getting you food and sunlight. Even now! He writes you letters, but do you ever answer? Do you give him the time of day? I’m not saying you owe him your affection, but I am saying he deserves a mate who is willing to try.”

The table is silent for a moment. Letting your words hang in the air before Elain holds her head higher. "Mates do not have to be accepted."

"Elain." Nesta snaps, "Y/n has a point. You are in love with someone else's mate. You see how happy Cassian had made me, helped pick up my broken pieces! Showed me love while I healed. How happy Rhys makes Feyre! Giving her a life she could have never dreamt of. You can't so easily dismiss Lucien without at least trying."

"Oh, and you were one to so easily accept your mate?" Elain lashed out. Her eyes turning slightly misty. You quickly exchange a glance with Feyre who looks just as concerned as you. And the hurt on Nesta's face was there for just a split second before she steeled herself and opened her mouth-

"He's been teaching me how to read." You answer the first question quickly, looking down at your glass. Your reflection reminded you of your younger years again. Your sisters arguing at the table as you ate a meal you prepared. Trying to keep from your cheeks redding as your sisters turned to you. You could just imagine their expressions, shocked, disappointed and maybe a little upset you hadn’t asked one of them. Not being able to read was the last thing you wanted to admit, but you'd rather embarrass yourself than have them at each other's throats. There had been so much fighting in this world recently. There didn't need to be more. The fighting didn’t need to be between sisters. You dared to look up at them, Feyre was smiling gently as she reached out and took your hand. Giving a gentle squeeze. She understood you the most, both of you didn’t have the education that the other two did. Nesta looked at her water, frowning and contemplative. It was almost as if she looked guilty. Elain found a spot on the table interesting. The silence was too heavy, so you continued, "He realized the book I always carried around…he realized I wasn't reading it. And so he tricked me, got me down into the library, and made me try to read…ever since then he's been teaching me…"

"You know, Rhys also taught me how to read." Feyre supplies to help ease the tension. “By making me write about how handsome and charming he was.” Nesta and you snort, rolling your eyes affectionately at your brother in law. Feyre takes your hand better, giving another squeeze. “And now I can read and write just fine. And I would bet good money that Azriel is a better teacher than him." She winks. You gave her a thankful smile.

"He says we can move onto chapter books soon…" A small smile spreads across your face as you recount what had happened just a few hours earlier. "Maybe I can join your book club then, Nes." You look at your oldest sister in hopes of pulling her out of her thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel guilty about it, your father should have picked up the slack. Not her. Nesta looks up at you, smiling back at you with a softness rarely seen.

"If you can handle it." She shrugs with a half committed grin. After another beat of silence she sighs, reaching across the table to take your other hand. "I'm sorry. Like Feyre, I had no idea where your lessons started and how much you knew…"

Shaking your head, you squeeze her hand. "It wasn't your job. You were a child just like me. If anyone should have stepped up it was Dad. And besides, reading wasn't going to help us get out of poverty. We did what we could. And now, we have a life of comfort…" You give another thankful smile to Feyre. "Thanks for mating the most powerful High Lord in Prythian." You tease, your sisters laugh unexpectedly at the comment. It was a strange thing to thank Feyre for. There was so many things you could have thanked her for- and yet you chose her mate. But Feyre didn’t seem to mind, she welcomed it with open arms. Bowing her head as if to say ‘you’re welcome.’

Then, when the laughter died down, you look over at Elain, "And if you want me to stop the lessons with Azriel then I will. I'm sure we can get me a tutor now that I know the basics."

Elain raises her head to look at you and then sighs. Shaking her head, "No. You're right. I haven't been fair in demanding attention from Azriel, giving him my heart so easily when…when I haven't given my own mate the chance. Truthfully, I'm just scared. To lose someone like I lost Greyson. I thought… I thought for sure Greyson would love me no matter what. I thought our love was stronger than just some pointy ears. And,” She pauses as she purses her lips. Nesta gently rubs her back, Feyre takes her hand as you take the other. Gathering around her in support. “And i’m scared that something with happen to Lucien as well. I see how much you love your mates and I just- I just couldn’t bear to loose anyone like that again.” Elain lets out a shaky breath at her confession, squeezing you and Feyre’s hands. “Azriel would be a good partner. I know to expect him to leave at times…" She leans back into the chair and lets out a whistful sigh, "Plus he's hot."

That gets the table to erupt into laughter again, "As if Lucien isn't?" You ask playfully.

"Oh please, Illyrian men are the way to go." Nesta winks, "They don't talk about the wing spans for no reason."

"Gross!" You giggle as the conversation starts up again, becoming easier between you and your sisters. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you arrived back at the River house, laughter still surrounded you and your sisters. The four of you make your way into the living room to continue your fun night, but find it already occupied with the Inner Circle. Spread across the rooms with various wine bottles, and a few snacks scattered about.. "Hello, Feyre Darling." Rhys greets and gets up, taking her in his arms, "We couldn't let you have all the fun. Now could we?" He smirks, looking over at you and your sisters. “Did you girls have a goodnight?”

“Not as good as the one here.” You muse, crossing the room to grab some of the charcuterie board they had left. “Rita’s doesn’t have fancy meat.”

“At least not when you’re not there.” Cassian ribs, elbowing Rhys as he passes by. Rhys’s quip back gets lost in the laughter the ensues from your joke. And as Cassian always does, presses a kiss to Feyre's cheek. He ruffles your hair, causing you to make a small noise of disapproval before quickly smoothing out your hair. He kisses Elain's hand before he pulls Nesta into his arms. Kissing her swiftly, causing you to avert your eyes.

You hear some shuffling and look up to find Azriel coming closer, something you noted he only did when he wasn’t trying to sneak up on people. His footsteps so light that he want to accidentally spook anyone. You smile at him as you notice for once he wasn't in his leathers. But that didn't mean that he wasn't still insanely attractive. It was unfair how effortless it seemed to be for him. A pair of black jeans that were a bit looser than his normal pants but still hugged his thighs, a long-sleeved blue knit shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to show off his forearms. Showing off more scars, His siphon-topped hands shoved into his pockets. Even his casual dress made you feel under and over-dressed at the same time. Your sisters and you usually wore dresses- Nesta and Feyre opted for Illyrian leathers while training. But you had done none of it, so here you stood in front of him in a plain purple sundress. Smoothing out the fabric you looked up at him with a gentle smile. "Did you have a good night?"

Azriel nods, a faint smile from him almost had you trying to catch your breath. His attention focused so innately on you, that nothing else seemed to matter. "Better now that you're here. Rhys and Cass wouldn't stop complaining about how much they missed their mates." He sighs heavily, not revealing the smirk that graces his features to anyone but you. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet giggle, shaking your head at him. His beautiful hazel eyes glimmering with amusement.

"We did not!" Cassian interrupts, pulling you and Azriel from your moment. Nesta still pressed into his arms as she held onto him. "Don't let him fool you, y/n." He pouts, “We weren’t the only ones complaining!”

You raise your eyebrow and look at Elain. She shares the amusement. "Cassian, with all due respect. You are annoying about Nesta even when she's in the next room over." Elain teases and you cover your mouth to stop the bark of laughter. But it’s too late, the room is filled with it.

"Do you hear them, Nessie?" Cassian pouts and barries his face into her neck. "They're being mean to me." Nesta laughs and pats his back. Looking at the rest of you with playful exhaustion.

"You big baby, you can take it." She offers no sympathy to her mate, who only whines in her arms. Causing Nesta to roll her eyes and look over at you and Elain again. "Drama king." She mouths.

And something about the normalcy in your sister's affection, loving her mate so openly. Being held with no reservations, bantering and kissing, and….being loved. Both of them…it causes that ache in your heart again. The crippling loneliness. Even Elain had found a spot next to Mor and Amren, letting them pour her a drink. You can't bear to watch it, it hurts too much. To feel so outside, like a stranger peering through a window. You step away from Azriel, unaware of his his eyes quickly follow you, ensure you aren’t going too far. He’s about to offer an arm when you yawn and stretch. "I think it's time to head up to bed." You give a tight-mouth smile to everyone else and bid them goodnight. Ignoring the boo’s from a tipsy Mor.

Azriel follows you up though. He’d seen the sudden change in your demeanor, almost like you closed yourself off from the family. He didn’t know what was said to you tonight, but he’d assure you til dawn if anything he deemed wrong.

You hadn't noticed him until he cleared his throat, just outside your bedroom door. Causing you to startle as you looked back. "Azriel!" You hiss as you put a hand over your heart with a little laugh. Azriel looked like a kicked puppy, his beautiful hazel eyes wide, eyebrows raised in surprise. You hadn't ever expected to see that look on his face, biting your lip to stop a laugh.

"I'm sorry!" He rushes, "I thought you knew!”

You let out the laugh that you were holding back and shake your head. "Oh, Azriel." You giggle and shake your head as you pat his bicep, the sheer size of it made your hand look downright childish. So small in comparison to all that muscle. "It's alright, don't worry. Did you need something?"

He cleared his throat, in the dim faelighting you could have sworn that you saw a blush creeping up on his cheeks. You pushed away the thoughts of how adorable he was. "I, wanted to make sure that you were okay." He whispers as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, refusing to meet your gaze. Watching how it darts around like he is growing more and more anxious by the second. You had never seen the Spy Master like this- so flustered and awkward. It made you wonder what he and the rest of the Inner Circle talked about while you were gone today. Cassian mentioned someone else complaining… was it him? Was he complaining about your lessons?

You blink at his words, finally registering them, before tilting your head. "…yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your sisters all but kidnapped you." He says simply. His eyes finds yours again as he raises an eyebrow at you. Slightly worried that you might have forgotten. His eyes also shine with amusement as he recalls the way they'd shown up. Only for himself to be bombarded when he returned to the River House as well. No doubt Feyre, Rhys, Nesta and Cassian’s doing. Nosy fuckers. "Nesta was…" Azriel shivers as he recalls her glance. Shaking his head you laugh again at his reaction, patting his arm again. He couldn’t help but also notice the size difference between you two and it drives him up a wall.

"They just wanted to know my intentions with you Azzy." You wink, and on the Shadowsingers face was definitely a blush. "Don't worry I assured them it was nothing but evil, evil plots of learning how to read to start a coup." You continue to tease him.

Azriel glares lightly at you, but any harshness in his eyes soften the minute you giggle so hard you snort and lean into him. Resting your forehead on his chest- the closer you’d ever been to him. The way you did so in such a simple, effortless way…touching him and laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world. His heart races out of his chest as he looks down at you, shocked as he doesn’t quite know what to do, his shadows curling around your ankles and his hands on your hips to keep you from falling back as you laugh- still dazed by the pure beauty of…you and it snaps. The mating bond. You were his mate.

His.

From now until the end of time. You were his, and he was yours. And it suddenly felt like everything in this world made sense. Holding you in his arms would feel like home, never again would it feel like he didn’t have a place in this world again. Because his place was next you. Starting from this day on. Now and forever. It feels as if his entire life had been an endless storm, constantly searching for salvation only to find it in your smile. The darkness that enveloped him washed away by your laugh. The self deprecating thoughts eased by a touch of your hand…there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. The snapping of the bond felt as if though part of him had truly become complete. There was no greater honor than being yours. So holy dedicated to you.

If he were a lesser man, he would have surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. Needing to feel the touch of your skin against his. Giving in to his primal instincts. Tugging you closer as you both accept the bond and two- became one. Over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t move anymore.

But Azriel looks at you as you smile up at him. So innocent in the way only someone who had no idea what dirty thoughts were coming through his mind. Completely unaware of what you had just done to him. How you now had him wrapped around your finger forever and always. And then, like a freight train crashing he realized.

It hadn't snapped for you…

"Goodnight Az." You whisper as you lean up, one hand delicately on his chest, the other squeezing his forearm to help keep you steady, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." With that, you stepped into your room closing the door. Leaving Azriel in the hallway alone, again. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: This one was really fun to write! Also, if you guys wanna know the dress I was picturing for the reader, its this one here. If yall have anything you wanna see, or wanna be added to the taglist let me know! tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21

#azriel x reader #acotar series #acotar fanart #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #nesta acotar #pro nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #pro elain #elain archeron #elain x lucien #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #cassian acotar

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Four

Summary - The consequences of your defection to the Autumn Court become clear as you realise how deeply rooted the betrayal of your family lies within you.

Warnings - angst, self-doubt, trauma, depression, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three

Nesta's toes curled uncomfortably.

Rhys was pacing before her and Lucien who was sunken into the seat beside her, Azriel and Cassian stood as still as stone to the side of Rhys' desk as he walked the length of the room behind it. Anger burned in his eyes, the violet orbs that Feyre loved so much now blazing with infantile fury at what he had lost.

The power pulsating around the High Lord was nothing compared to yours, but it was still uncomfortable to swim in; it was migraine-inducing, it made her eyes feel heavy and limbs weak, and she knew the power within him was teetering on the edge of unleashing.

Rhys, as calm as he was portraying, lay his palms flat against the table surface, staring Nesta and Lucien down, but neither of them relented, neither of them would dare falter in front of him, "Tell me where my sister is," his lips curled into a smile, a sadistic thing of psychotic beauty, his eyes were demanding, and Nesta stole a glance to Lucien whose fingers were ripping at the leather arms of the chair.

You had disappeared from Helion's birthday gathering, your scent floating away in the breeze, and you hadn't told a soul of where you were going. Rhys had assumed you were ashamed of yourself and had returned to Velaris, that he would be able to deal with you later. But when Eris' note had landed in Lucien's lap that evening, he had never felt such simmering relief.

There was history between Rhys and Lucien, they weren't exactly the best of friends, but they weren't enemies, Lucien dealt with him for Elain and Rhys delt with him for Feyre, but if he had it his way Lucien would cease to exist.

"Y/N," Lucien bit, to remind them that you were y/n, your own person, and not just known to be his sister and executioner, "Has denounced her place in the Night Court, she is residing elsewhere."

Azriel scoffed, his finger trailing along the sharp edge of Truthteller, "She can't denounce her place so easily."

"Well she has," Nesta smirked, her stare barrelling into Azriel whose pupils flared in response, "I suppose this is what happens when you raise a female to be nothing more than your dirty little secret."

Rhys bristled, "I would watch how you speak if I were you, Nesta."

Rolling her neck, Nesta drawled, "I think you forget how little I care for your opinions, Rhysand," Lucien hummed low in agreement, legs lax and open against the confinements of his seat, "It seems as though y/n finally realised what you've done all these years."

"And what's that?" Rhys challenged.

Nesta could have smacked that smirk from his lips, but she restrained herself from doing so. Unfortunate.

"Lie," Rhys' eyes darkened, "All you've done is lie to her. You had never hidden her to protect her from what happened to your mother and sister, you used it as an excuse so that no one would find out just how powerful she is. You hid her so that she would never realise her full potential, you never trained her abilities and yet her power still drowns you, and instead of caring for her and helping her, you locked her away in this city and silently forbade her to ever leave."

Lady Death rose to her feet and approached the desk, paying little mind to the daggers shooting from Cassian's eyes. Fuck the male who would let their master manhandle their precious mate. Nesta mirrored the High Lord, palms flat across the table and leaning in so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, "You have raised y/n to be your executioner, you have spread this vile word of her ferocity and violence so that no one would ever wish to be around her. You created the image of a bloodthirsty monster that lays dormant in the Night Court until her master calls upon her, and y/n has realised just how much you have betrayed her. All she knows is what you reared her to be, not what she actually is or can be."

Lucien shuffled in his seat, opening his mouth and voicing, "You stole away her chance to choose her own path by manipulating her into believing that her place in the world was to be nothing but the Feared Princess of Velaris," he leaned forward in his seat, smirking at the way Cassian took a step forward, "The mere mention of her name strikes fear into the souls of every traveller, they sing songs around fires of her, she is the monster in the nightmares and the one dying men wish they never meet on the other side, and she has been allowed to be depicted like that because you wished it."

It was masterful really, how Rhys had manipulated everyone to believe that you were an awful abomination of a thing when in reality all you wanted to do was see the world and curl up with a good book. You hadn't experienced anything good or soul-awakening, Amarantha had stripped your essence from you the moment she carved your wings from your body, and that had been the moment that Rhys had wrapped his talons around your mind and bent you to his will.

"Tell me where she is."

Nesta cocked her head to the side as she scrutinised his face with horror laced in her orbs, after all they had said all he cared about was knowing where you were, he had no interest in acknowledging or accepting anything he had done. She looked to Cassian, "Do you not understand how disgusting this is? She grew up with you, you said she was like a sister to you that you loved her as much as him," Nesta pointed at Rhys who pulled back from the desk, "How could you stand by and allow this?"

"Y/N's power poses a threat to us all, I did what was necessary to ensure our safety."

"If that's truly what you think then you are no mate of mine," she spat and his eyes rounded as his forehead creased, his façade was cracking. Nesta turned her attention to Azriel, "You. You're supposed to be her best friend, she loves you more than anything, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you, Az."

Azriel shrugged, "My duty is to the Night Court."

"You're a pig," she took in the sight of Rhys who had taken a step or so backward and had found a place to lean against the fireplace, her anger bubbled and there was little she could do to stop the truth from stabbing him in his soul, "Y/N is in the Autumn Court. The one place you physically can't go, where none of you can and I'm so glad she got out of this shitshow of a city because she would have died if she had been locked away for another moment longer being treated like nothing and no one."

"Watch it."

Nesta chuckled lowly, "Or what, Rhys? You'll kick me out of the Night Court? It's a good thing that I'm already leaving."

What have I done?

The thought was on repeat in your mind, an overlapping record jolting with the same phrase.

A pit had opened inside of you, a gnarly black hole full of anger and hatred that had dampened the moment Eris had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a flurry of light, and you could distinctly see the world as you knew it warp before your eyes.

The dress you had worn was draped over a standing mirror, the skirt of it brushing against the glass in the breeze swelling through the room Eris had led you to that night. Flowing water from a babbling brook sounded from beyond the window, harmonising with sweet birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves. Sunlight speckled through the room and streaked across the thick brown carpet that made you feel like you were walking on clouds.

For a moment, you stopped thinking of how your life had momentously changed in the space of one decision. It was a peace you welcomed before the reality of it came crashing down on you.

Rhys would be furious once he found out that you had denounced your home court and title, so furious that he may not allow you back which wasn't exactly a bad thing. But nothing would made that vein in his forehead pop more than when he realised where you had gone. To Autumn. With Eris.

Your heart raced at the thought of it, your hands went clammy and damp, and you couldn't stop thinking about what exactly would happen to Nesta and Lucien because of your reckless decision.

You are the author of your own story.

A soft knock rattled on the door, pulling your mind back into the present. Lifting yourself from the larger-than-life bed, you padded over to the door, knowing that Eris would never just let himself into the safe space he had gifted to you.

Eris stood on the other side, the sunlight brushing over his face and turning his eyes into molten shimmer bronze, he looked handsome, dressed in tight taupe pants that were tucked into his riding boots, a cream shirt loosely poked into the waistband.

His gaze travelled down your figure that was half-hidden behind the door, specifically at the shirt he had leant you that barely fell to your mid-thigh which left the rest of your leg exposed to him. Your hair was messy from the night full of tossing and turning, but he thought you looked radiant, that it made you look rather adorable actually.

"Good morning," he told you softly once he was done examining you, there was a box in his arms along with a few folded pieces of fabric, "I went out this morning and got these for you," he offered, "You don't have any clothes here so I thought these would do for now until I could take you into town."

Taking the box and tower of clothes from his arms, you smiled, "Thank you," you suddenly felt naked in front of him, the breeze drifting inward and up your legs reminding you of that fact.

If he knew of your realisation he didn't let on, "Our fashion isn't like that of your former court, but I'm sure you'll look incredible in it regardless," his eyes sparkled and your racing heart began to relent, "I'll be in the gardens when you're ready, Fawn."

Eris left you after that, he left you with the lingering speckles of his scent, the same scent that you had drifted to sleep bathed in thanks to the large shirt he had given you. The arms of the shirt drooped on you and you knew that it was due to his large arms perfectly fitting in the fabric.

The clothes were lovely, a mixture of dresses in a variety of styles and hues that you knew would mould against your skin perfectly, tailored shirts and tight leather pants, feminine waistcoats of forest green and red wine with golden embellishments, and undergarments that you knew Eris wouldn’t dare pick himself. Even the thought made heat rise to your cheeks.

Deciding to embrace your defection, one that Eris had been careful not to voice directly, you dressed yourself in a pair of high waisted black pants and a fitted artic blue blouse. It was so unlike anything you had ever worn, but it was beautiful in its own way. Turning to the box, you lifted the lid and gasped at the oyster coloured riding boots that must have cost a small fortune considering the intricate stitching. They weren’t just regular riding boots, no, when you slid them up your calves and found yourself adjusting them to your thighs, you knew they were a statement piece if you’d ever seen one.

Pulling your hair back into a low and messy bun, you found your reflection and grinned.

Eris was right, you did look incredible, like Velaris had been dispelled from you long ago and was nothing but a horrible dream.

Fir Manor was a special place, you could see why Eris chose to live there over the Forest House. It was light and bright and full of warmth from the whispering sun, ornate furniture was littered everywhere, the library was the personification of comfort and grace, exposed wooden beams loomed overhead and the windows were large and clear enough that you could see to the edge of the estate and the woodland beyond.

Your sun-starved skin cried in relief as you stepped outside, drinking in every vitamin offered to it, a low whistle caught your ear and you found Eris stood before a pair of large but stunning stallions, his hounds chasing one another and running between their legs which didn’t phase them at all.

“You look,” he trailed off as he approached, a jacket now completing his outfit and fingers raking through his red hair.

“Like Autumn threw up on me?”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh and looked to the beasts, “I thought you’d like to explore the woodland today, get you out of the manor for a few hours?”

It was an offer than you wanted to say yes to, but at the same time couldn’t, ashamed of your oncoming admittance, “I would love to. It’s just,” you faltered, your eyes moved from Eris to the towering midnight black stallion that had craned its neck to look to you inquisitively.

Eris caught on, “You don’t know how,” a solemn finish to the sentence you were trying to voice, his heart clenched slightly at the defeat in your eyes, yet another thing that had been taken from you, “Well I can teach you,” he spoke, “Today you can ride with me, learn the basics, and you’ll be on your own stallion in no time.”

The High Lord of Autumn stood beside you, elbow to elbow, and even through the fabric of your clothes, you could feel his fire prickling across your skin and work its way into the woven fibres of your soul. He stood there seemingly unknowing of it, and when he looked down on you, waiting for your answer, all you could do was nod.

The stallion, Axos, shuddered under your touch as your fingers drifted over his side and around the curve of his saddle. Hands curled around your hips and you almost fell backward at the touch, Eris was behind you, his chest moving against your back and you glanced backward at him, "Don't get too excited," he smirked, and you wished you could have seen the muscles in his arms rippling as he lifted you up, instructing you to swing your leg over before he settled in behind you with ease.

The reigns became wrapped between his fingers, his breath was hot against your neck and Axos was moving onward after a curt click from Eris' mouth, his hounds trotting happily alongside you, "You have to roll your hips with each step he takes," his voice was gruff in your ear, low enough to send shivers flowing down your spine, "Like this," he unwound one of his hands from the reigns and placed it on your hip, gently moving it back and forth to the steps of Axos beneath as the stallion carried you both into the woodland, through the arched hanging branches and grasslands.

Awareness washed over you at how close Eris truly was, you were nestled at the centre of his open legs, his thighs encased your own, his entire chest shrouded you, and a shadow fell over you from the sheer size of him. He was pressed up to your back to the point you could feel his heart beating through his shirt, a thing you had become extremely aware of but didn't dare shudder away from in fear of him pulling away from you.

The landscape was picturesque, mounds of fresh earth, dainty flowers and fallen branches, leaves of orange, brown, and red, and water flowing through the small brooks, trying to find their way to the river. Even the sun felt surreal, it streaked through any respite of bark that it could, its golden glow spreading and infecting the land. Soft scampering of tiny paws ran through the trees, squirrels jumped from branch to branch, following you and paying no attention to the swarm of hounds keeping an eye on them.

It astounded you how a place so beautiful even existed.

It scared you how place so beautiful could turn into the most vicious of battlegrounds.

"Are you afraid, of Rhys coming here?"

Eris tensed behind you, his hand still lingering on your side, "We don't have to talk about this, y/n."

"I know," you told him, smiling softly as you watched a small bunny poke its head above its burrow, "I just know him, and I don't want to put you or your court in danger."

"I'm not afraid of him, and he will never step foot in my court. I won't allow it," he was stoic, and you knew he was telling the truth, Eris had faced worse than Rhys, he had endured worse.

"I can go, I don't have to be here, Eris."

Axos stopped moving, your brows itched together in a frown and you turned to capture Eris' gaze which was riddled with confusion, "I would never dream to keep you from doing whatever it is you wish to you, even if you wish to leave, I would not stop you. But I would like you to stay, and I think you would like to stay too."

Eris' amber pools softened and he smiled sadly at you, knowing that you didn't wish to leave but wanted to protect him and his home from whatever it was that Rhys could inflict upon it, "You will always have a place here, y/n. No one can take that from you, whatever you wish for is yours."

"Who knew that the fox could be so sweet?"

Eris tilted his head back and laughed, a pure thing of serenity, he moved his hand to your thigh and squeezed it gently before grabbing at the reigns once more, "Keep going, Fawn. You're getting warmer."

The hours ticked by, idly chatter filled the air, he told you the names of his hounds, you had unmounted Axos and delved further into the woodland, touching every tree that you could as if you wouldn't see them again all whilst Eris trailed you with a distant grin on his lips. Sunlight began to wane into its mid-afternoon position, the warmth replaced with bristle breezes and the birdsong drowned out by the emerging chirps of crickets.

Golden hour.

A moment you had heard of, when the sun reached its most comfortable resting place before it beckoned the moon to start its ascent, where the world was coated in the golden autumn glow that consumed the land. You had heard the stories of its beauty, but nothing could prepare you for it as you watched the light shift to a different angle and a shimmer cling to everything that moved. The waters glistening, sparkling and reflecting against the bodies of the trees, and that sparkle bounced all over the clearing where you stood.

"It's beautiful," your voice was a whisper but your eyes floated about the clearing, your body turned where you stood and you drank it in.

"It is," Eris confirmed from where he stood, dry branches creaked under his feet as he approached, "It's something that I take for granted, when you see it every day you forget how special it is."

"I wish that you could see it again for the first time."

A weight shifted at your feet and you peered down to see one of Eris' hounds, Willow, perched atop your toes, looking up at you with a lopsided grin as she panted. Reaching down, you scratched the spot beneath her shin and between her ears, your heart swelling as her tail swatted at the floor and her eyes screwed closed as she accepted your touch, "She likes you."

Willow was an elegant beast, long brown lashes, deep brown eyes, shining fur of tan and black, and shaggy ears that fell down the sides of her face, "I like her too."

Eris' eyes glowed, with what you couldn't quite tell, "We should head back to the manor, you must be starving."

When you thought of it you were hungry, you didn't remember the last time you ate, perhaps the morning of your departure but you couldn't be sure of it. The ride back to the manor felt too short, you were relishing in his company far too much, so much so that you wished that the day wouldn't end.

Fir Manor approached in the forefront of your vision and you sighed, ready to be in more relaxing clothes, but also ready to eat something. You could only imagine how incredible the food would be if even the landscape alone brought you happiness. Eris dismounted first and held his hands up to you, not even straining as they gripped your waist and placed you back on the ground delicately.

Eris' finger reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear, one that must have fell loose from the effortless bun you had thrown your hair into that morning. That same finger lingered, ghosting over the curve of your jaw and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. His eyes were on you, waving themselves over your face.

You could have stayed there for much longer, in his arms with his fingers dusting over your skin. It seemed that others were too impatient to allow the moment to continue as the door to the manor swung open and you turned your head to see Nesta and Lucien stood on the porch with Elain in the doorway.

"Nes?" Eris' grip on your waist tightened slightly but relented as you moved away, pacing up the pathway and flinging yourself into her open arms which wrapped around you tightly, "What are you doing here?"

"Our place is with you," she muttered and you pulled away, looking between her, Lucien and Elain as Eris fell to your side.

"What about Cassian?"

Nesta shuddered, she took a moment to glance at Eris and the apprehension he wore as he inched closer to you, "I can't be mated to someone who could allow something like this to happen."

"I'm so sorry, Nes," guilt pooled within you and she could see that as clear as daybreak, she took a step closer to you, taking your head in her hands and stroking your cheeks with her thumbs.

"Don't be," she shushed, "I chose you. I will always choose you."

Lucien placed a hand on your shoulder and offered more detail, "Rhys is furious, but he knows that he can't get to you here," he glanced to his brother and his lips tilted downward, "He's asked for you, for a meeting at the boarder."

The High Lord growled under his breath and took a protective step to you, it was clear that Rhys was going to attempt to barter for your return, that he was going to use his manipulation tactics to steal you back, "Fine," your blood ran cold and Nesta's fingers gripped at your wrists as Eris rounded your figure to stand beside her, "You're not going anywhere, alright? It's in our best interests to see what he has to say. I'll never let him take you," Eris turned his head to peer over his shoulder at his younger brother and Elain who had drifted from the doorway to entwine her fingers with his, his eyes faltered in want before he spoke, "You'll accompany me."

Lucien nodded stiffly and once, "For her, I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Thank you," Eris' words were sincere and he found Nesta's gaze, "You can all stay here for however long you'd like," then he found yours and he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles, "Forever if it suits."

The sun hung low in the sky, the moon was pushing itself through the clouds and your heart raced with anticipation for the moment Eris and Lucien would both leave for the boarder, "Please be careful."

Eris nodded, rubbing your clothes arms in his hands to allow his warmth to run through you, "We will. Go and get changed, I'll see to it that food is on the table for you three by the time you're back."

"Us three?"

"The boarder is hours away," Lucien spoke for his brother who couldn't bare to tell you that they would have to leave imminently in order to meet with Rhys, "If we don't leave soon then we risk missing the window altogether."

"You're safe here, y/n. They can't get in."

In that moment, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him, just to bask in his scent and warmth for another moment longer, but you couldn't. Instead, you nodded and allowed Nesta and Elain to lead you inside, and you continued to look over your shoulder up until the moment when Lucien closed the door with a tight lipped smile cast in your direction.

It would not be the last time you'd see him. If it was, then you'd decimate the entire of Prythian with your fury.

Author's Note

Here we are!

Hope you love it x

Someone told me that 'Who's Afraid of Little Old Me' by Taylor Swift is so The Fox and The Fawn reader coded and I cannot stop thinking about it

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian #azriel x you #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #feyre x rhysand #rhys acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

[high-queen-feyre]

Feyre being a mom fills me with so much joy, like yeah babe, tell em how it's done.

Both Feyre and Rhysand will break the cycles, Feyre being an attentive mother that she didn't have and Rhys being the affectionate father that he didn't have.

I'm ok... I'm not tearing up... I'm good.

#acotar #feyre archeron #pro feyre #pro feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #feyre acotar #high lady feyre #high lady of the night court #feysand #feyre and rhysand #feysandnyx #rhys x feyre #nyx archeron #rhysand acotar #feyre x rhysand #rhysand

[dee-writes-smut]

SUMMER

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

#fanfic #x reader #acomaf #acotar #acourtofthornsandroses #acowar #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #fluff #mating bond #healing journey #healing #rhys acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #feyre acotar #feyre cursebreaker #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #pro nesta #a court of silver flames #cassian #acosf

[moonlightazriel]

I love you in every universe...

The Feysand Archetype: The my wife is the most precious thing in my life husband and his treasure wife.

#acotar #moonlightazriel #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #pro feyre #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x feyre #feysand #pro feysand #pro rhysand

[helenaschmalz]

Feyre meeting the wolf in chapter 1 ✨

#digital art #fanart #fourth wing #ouabh #acotar #illustration #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #feysand #feyre x rhysand #high lady feyre #feyre darling #sarah j maas #evangeline fox #rhysand #romantasy

[incorrectacotarblog]

Rhysand: who got an STD? I need you to fuck someone for me

Azriel: calling an STD hit is absolutely insane

Cassian: biological whorefare

#a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #acotar memes #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #funny acotar #feyre x rhysand #nesta x reader #a court of wings and ruin #rhysand x reader #rhysand #nesta archeron #nesta #incorrect acotar quotes #acotar imagines #acotar #morrigan #eris acotar #helion acotar #high lady feyre #acotar incorrect quotes

[mooncrvmbs]

another day without a morally grey fictional man who would commit arson for me

#rhysand #feyre x rhysand #xaden riorson #violet x xaden #kaz brekker #six of crows #fourth wing #acotar #crescent city #book quotes #booklr #bookblr #casteel da'neer #hawke flynn #wait i completely forgot about aaron warner

[obliviouscxnt]

Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much. 

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor. 

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others. 

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her. 

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch. 

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.” 

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden. 

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings. 

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much. 

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words. 

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“ 

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous. 

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.” 

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.” 

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,” 

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you.  An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it. 

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams. 

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming. 

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you. 

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.” 

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.” 

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation. 

You squeeze back. 

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke. 

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door. 

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway. 

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph. 

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you. 

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm. 

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers. 

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity. 

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity. 

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise. 

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours. 

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.” 

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?” 

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.” 

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face. 

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.” 

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?” 

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.” 

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it. 

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.” 

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly. 

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you. 

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice. 

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life. 

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you. 

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you. 

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front. 

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to. 

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings. 

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely. 

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn. 

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact. 

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him. 

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him. 

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded. 

“Touch me.” He commands. 

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him. 

next→

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron

[meriyart]

i’d like to have what they have pls and ty

#feysand #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar #acotar fanart #feyre x rhysand #my art #a court of thorns and roses

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt. 2

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: Azriel knew you can't read. And he knows you would never admit it. So he tricks you into taking reading lessons.

Warnings: Slight mentions of nightmares.

Check out part one and grab the next part here

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You had come into your room to grab something. And had lost every train of thought as you saw the note neatly placed on top of the book you carted around for show- not quite sloppy hand writing but it was clearly male and in a rush. A...stick figure drawing of you? Clearly Feyre had not drawn this. But there is an attention to detail, your hair is colored correctly, and your eyes also the right shade- or as close as you could get in crayon. Truthfully, it could have been anyone female but since it was in your room, it was safe to assume. And then a book- the library? Is that where this mystery would be solved. You were far too curious now to just not go.

And so, you folded the note up and put in into one of your pockets. Heading down there quickly. The only sound as you enter is the clicking of your shoes. Looking around you, and making your way over to Clotho's desk. The priest doesn’t look up at you but quickly writes, 'Ah, y/n to what do we owe the pleasure?'

You smile and pull out the note to show it to her. "It seems- I was summoned." Clotho's amusement oozes off her and she simple writes.

'Go down to level five and you should find what you're looking for.' Squinting suspiciously at her for just a second you debate listening. But that is your inner Nesta speaking, and as much as you loved your oldest sister you didn't want to be completely like her. So, complying with a general order wouldn’t be an issue.

Thanking Clotho quickly you make your way down to the fifth level. And you could have throttled Azriel as he looked over at you with a set of children's books, letter sheets and pencils. He was leisurely sitting there, legs crossed, his ankle resting on his thigh. Arms crossed as he looked at you. And knowing him, while his face remained neutral- he had a feline smirk just like Rhys’s on the inside. Stomping over, crossing your arms and glaring down at the Illyrian man you hiss, "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you how to read." He answers simply, not even slightly phased by your intense gaze. The shadows that normally linger around him aren’t there, instead- as if to mock how little of a threat you are- they pool at his feet like a dog. You'd have to talk to Nesta about getting that icy glare down pat.

"You're still on about that?" You scuff, turning on your heel to leave him with his silly ideas. But before you can get far, a gentle but rough hand grabs your elbow.

"If you can read, then I'll accept I was wrong and even buy you dinner." Azriel compromises. But he knew better, he saw the way your eyes glazed over when they looked at your book and there was no rhyme or reason as to when you flipped the page. Normally people had consistency when they were reading, You had none. Even when Nesta was reading smut there was consistency to it- albeit the page turns got faster but it was still consistent.

You were convinced you could do this. You didn't need him to know this about you. Not even your sisters knew- sure Nesta and Elain probably had inklings to it but you were just six when poverty struck. They were just kids too, it wasn't there job to teach you. Sitting down at the table you looked at the page. It was easy- just trace the letters. You could do that. So you picked up the pencil and started. And once you were done you slid it over to him. "See?"

He nods, taking the sheet and looking it over. Nodding as he examines the work. Then he sets it down and meets your intense eyes, but he doesn't shy away. He takes the first book off the stack. It was a young child's book- it should be a breeze for someone of your age. Prick. You think as he slides it over and folds his hands on the table. Watching the way your eyes widen. Your breathing hitches and there's a slight tremble to your hands as you take the book. He knows that look in your eyes- it's the one Feyre gets when she's calculating a plan. And he couldn't deny that he was slightly excited to see what you'd come up with.

Flipping open the book you know what he's probably looking for is some sortive consistency, so you'd let your eyes look at each word and then flip the page. And so, that's what you did. Finding it hard to keep up your little deception with his eyes focused so intensely on you. But you got to the end of the book and closed it with a triumphant smack. Looking back up at him- before you can open your mouth to speak, Azriel looks at you and asks. "What was it about?"

Shit. Fuck. You didn't look at the pictures! You quickly look down at the book and see a dog and a young boy on the cover. "Its about a dog and his owner." You say as evenly as you can manage for how fast your heart was beating. Azriel raises an eyebrow. Silently waiting for more. "When did you get so expressive?" You ask to quickly change the subject.

"I don't have to be on guard here. There is no one else around. And the priestess won't judge me for showing an emotion." He addresses your question simply, smoothly. Damn him and his stupid sliver tongue. He was the Shadowsinger! Of course he knew how to evade topics and questions to redirect to what he wanted! He taps the book in between the two of you again. And you look at his hands, scars running all along them, and of course you had know that. But it was the first time that you saw them this clearly. And as much as you wanted to get out of this situation- you knew that question was out of the question. "What is this about?" His voice remains gentle, but slightly stern.

Azriel watches you for any signs. He had seen many of them- you were a bad liar. Your emotions written all over your face. Your eyes, they showed everything. How no one else saw it astonished him. And for a second, as he watches how you look down at the book with apprehension and sorrow, that you quickly wash away once your gazes meet again...he sees your resolve break.

"Fine." You say quietly. "I can't read." Your cheeks heat at the confession- it felt so...so...mortifying that you were now twenty, an immortal High Fae and had no idea how to read. "Please don't tell the others." The last thing you wanted was for your sisters to look at you with that pitiful look they always seemed to give you when you mentioned something. Let alone, how awful it make you feel if Nesta fell back into her vices. Granted you knew Cassian wouldn’t let that happen.

He thinks his heart might just burst for a moment. Seeing you so somber. Azriel had watched you from the second you were dumped out of that Cauldron. Shaking, crying, gasping for air. The first thing you did was try and push it over so your sisters wouldn’t bare the same fate. And for the first few weeks after, when he heard your screams in the middle of the night. He'd make sure you were alright, given you the space to talk to him if needed. You rarely took the opportunity. Pushing him away despite him reaching out. Keeping him at an arms length for reasons he didn’t understand. Time, though. Everyone kept telling him with time, you’d come around. But you pushed him right into Elain. Not that he hated your older sister. No, far from it. They were good friends, they could talk for hours about anything and everything. But she wasn't you. She wasn't his. She had her mate, and Rhys has made it clear to him that despite his feelings toward her- they could never be. Lucian wouldn't accept it until she flat out rejected him, and even then they had no idea what the other male would do. Rhys didn't want to loose his brother over a girl. And while Azriel grumbled and snarled at him, deep down. He knew that he was right.

But watching you, moving through the Night Court with a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a grace that rivaled Elain's...Hearing your laugh in a crowed room and smiling into his drink. He knew that you made yourself seem happy, chipper, played the part of the sweet younger sister for everyone. So looking at you now, as your cheeks burn red and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. He'd do anything he could to make sure you'd never look like that again. Azriel gently takes your hand, letting his thumb swipe over your knuckles as you look up at him. "I won't tell a soul."

And you believe him. The sincerity in his eyes, he's got no reason to lie to you. But you can't help the smile that creeps up. "Thank you."

And a comfortable silence falls as you both continue to look at each other and let your thoughts run free. Before Azriel clears his throat- and you were about 87% sure that there was a blush creeping in. "I can continue to teach you, if you'd like."

Looking down at the book in between you, where your hand was still in his. Tracing the lines of his scars gently, you nodded. "I think i'd like that."

Azriel didn't bother to hide his smile.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: This got very long, very fast. But I hope you all like it! Let me know if there is anything else you guys wanna see! And if y’all wanna be added to the tag list, let me know! :3

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92

#azriel x reader #acotar series #acotar fanart #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #pro nesta #nesta acotar #elain x lucien #elain archeron #pro elain

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Seven

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Series Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - angst, fluff, swearing, memory loss, memory finding

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

(I haven't fully edited this yet, I've been rushing to get this out with the burst of inspo I had for this fic lol)

"I can't concentrate when you look at me like that," Tia rolled her eyes at you, her large violet eyes that were enough to ward off even the most vile of creatures brimming with unbothered sass and boredom.

Tia craned her long graceful neck, curling it around her claws as she rested it on the ground and huffed, You haven't been able to concentrate all week.

The breeze whistled through the skies, skies of pale blue littered with the fluffiest clouds you'd ever seen, the ocean lapped onto the shores and the grass bristled in anticipation.

That was how the last seven days had gone. Unable to figure out how to return to Velaris, to Eris and Azriel and the people you had come to adore in their own unique ways, you decided that if you were to be stuck in the universe you had created, then you might as well figure a way to break out of it. It was harder than it seemed though, and every day that passed was another day of head splitting agony that threatened to consume you whole.

Of course you couldn't concentrate. Not when the look in Azriel's eyes haunted every step you took, he was so close, so close to grabbing you a risking hurtling himself into the world where you stood without a guarantee he would ever make it back to Velaris. Salt tainted the air and you shivered, wanting nothing more to be back in Autumn without your memories plaguing you with Duke curled up in your lap and your feet atop Eris' thighs.

The memories were there, just in reach for you to beckon from the wide open doors in your mind, but you weren't ready. Even the flurry of jolting images was too much for you to handle, they were all disjointed, none of them made sense really, but you knew that you had gone through an unimaginable loss, a loss that led you to where you were.

Selene and Danika had been nothing short of lovely and understanding toward you, Danika was trying to find out if Bryce was alright, and Selene was focused on you, on listening to the stories of your time in Prythian as they fell from your lips. It was saddening to see her violet eyes glazed over, the desire but bubbling happiness within them as you told her of Nyx, the nephew that she'd never get to meet.

"Yes, well it's because you won't leave me alone," you threw your hands up, exasperated, tendrils of your hair danced in the wind and you felt tired, it had been a long week of trying to summon your power to little avail, only the ocean reacted to you, rushing up the sandbank and flowing up your limbs..

Tia had been pushing you each day, ordering you to pluck the memories from that rippling ocean of starlight in your mind, promising that your power would awaken for it, but you couldn't. Part of you didn't wish to know where you'd come from, and you were fine with that.

Your power won't fully return until you embrace your past, y/n.

The flickering images were enough to convince you that you certainly did not want to know, there would be no embracing anything unless it was totally necessary.

"I can't, Tia," you told the beast, kicking idly at the sand hill in front of you and looking outward to the ocean.

There must have been a reason why the world you had supposedly created felt so serene, safe and guarded, an impenetrable fortress locked away in a far enough place that no one could ever reach.

"Is there more to this place? Are there cities and villages," you glanced about, "Or is it just this?"

You were well aware of how abundant your powers must have been to create a whole other dimension and to be able to pull travelling souls into it, but it seemed less impressive when you thought of how a beach with a pretty house was all that you could do.

You say that as if this isn't enough.

Tia's feline orbs narrowed on you, her body took up half of the shore and her breath was causing your hair to dance more than the wind was. In what world did you ever own her? In what world was the other half of your soul a fucking dragon?

Scales shimmering in the sunlight, Tia's slender neck stretched, her face hovering before your own, you a mere speck in the sand compared to it, "Is it enough?"

Cities, towns and villages exist here, Tia admitted softly, her voice in your mind was a stoic thing of deep feminine beauty, Those who are loved with the purest form adoration come here, to the world you built, a haven for lost and broken souls. Don't ever doubt your abilities again unless you'd like me to burn you.

"You wouldn't dare," you bit as though the words she had just spoken didn't make you want to curl into a ball and cry.

Don't tempt me, Princess.

The resolve that was folded neatly into your consciousness broke, you glanced to your hands and saw the flickers of blood, of bloody hands against a white stone floor, of mangled bodies and lifeless eyes staring up at you. Blinking hard, you drowned out the gargled screams that had forced their way into your head, inhaling shakily and flexing your fingers as the sound subsided.

"Fine. Just one."

Nesta clutched onto a book, she held it close to her chest and inhaled your scent that still lingered on the pages.

The sunken hollows beneath her eyes were begging for life, for rest, but she refused to give it to them, not until she figured out a way to get to you. There was a moment of pause, a moment where she had found herself curled up in the place where you used to sit in the library, hoping that your lingering aura would tell her what to do, that some part of you left in Prythian would guide her to the answer she sought.

Amren hadn't found anything either, much to Rhys' blaring anger, part of his was ready to denounce his second for what she had done, and Nesta knew that no one would stop him from doing so, your void was impossible to fill.

The shadows around Azriel slumped against him, withering in the pain caused by your disappearance, they were reaching for you too that night and your fingers had almost grazing them, your warmth a sweet melody against their overcast sonnet. Their owner wasn't doing much better, neither was Eris who had no choice but to return to Autumn and face whatever questions posed by Beron.

Visions kept on taking control of Elain leaving her fitting and shuddering, her eyes rolled back into her head and turned milky white more than their usual hue, and all she did was mutter your name as Lucien braced her body against him so that she wouldn't hurt herself.

Prythian had felt lifeless, like you leaving had opened the gates to hell and the most vile beasts were ready to crawl through. The skies were grey, the birds didn't dare to sing, and the world felt as though it had stopped turning.

Then there was the disappearances. Fae males, females and children of all ages vanishing from sight, Cassian was monitoring the situation, he was trying to figure it all out with Rhys and the limited capability of Azriel. They couldn't find anything, nothing that would lead them to the culprit. No bodies. No blood. Nothing.

The House of Wind groaned in the whipping wind, so fierce that it would leave your cheeks red and eyes watering, and Nesta sat there with your favourite book clasped loosely in her fingers, the one you carried with you always decorated in gold foreign markings that held a story of a land that may have existed once but hadn't been whispered of in thousands of years.

Nesta had been looking at the cover of the book for a long few minutes, admiring the hunter green cover and the faded golden scratches.

Scratches.

Nesta frowned, her fingers ghosting over the symbol with her eyebrows stitching themselves together. Flicking through the book, she found more of the intricate markings, ones that mirrored some of the more notable scars on your skin and her breath caught in her throat once she realised what you had done.

Some part of you knew what they meant.

It was clearly your writing, an angelic compilation of curved letters and question marks, and tears formed in her eyes as she spied the markings that would lead her to you.

Nesta rushed about the library, shoving furniture aside as close as it could be against the walls, she threw the woven rug across the room and gazed down at the bare floor like she could already see it opening up beneath her feet. The door opened, hitting against the arm of the chair, and Rhys stood their with Azriel and Cassian peering over his shoulder at her; she guessed that she looked crazy, with the swollen eyes and pale skin, with the hair falling from her coronet, but she didn't care.

"I need paint, something that I can draw with," the book was open in her hands and she knelt on the ground, Rhys must have mentally called for Feyre, because none of the males went to fulfil her request and instead stepped into the room and asked the eldest Archeron sister what she had found. Nesta offered the book to them, the one with your markings and writing etched around the words printed on the page, "They're her markings, she drew them, she wrote what they meant. I think I can use them to find her."

Again, the door swung open to reveal Feyre stood there, looking as exhausted as they all did, with a bucket of onyx paint wrapped in her fingers. Feyre had busied herself with Elain, she was trying to help Lucien care for her whilst also keeping a very close eye on Nyx who slept in the same bed as his parents these days.

The paint sloshed in the container, and Feyre placed it before Nesta who looked to the substance and then back to the pages. She dipped to fingers into the liquid, and her toes curled at the wetness of it, how it seeped into her nailbed and stained her digits.

Nesta carefully copied the markings you had jotted down in the margins of the book, markings of the eight-pointed star, the marking you had written to mean portal, and the one that you had said meant lost, and then she sat back.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, something did.

It was faint at first, a soft glow that they all would have missed if it didn't grow stronger by the second. The onyx paint glowed with veins of emerald green and the candlelight cowered at the pulsating power of it. Black mist drifted upward like a waterfall, splitting and rising, curving like a dome and attaching to the nearest particle until darkness consumed it, the green glow flickering inside of it until that too vanished.

Cassian moved to Nesta's side, his hand latched onto her shoulder just in case he needed to project her away from whatever she had opened on the floor of the library. Chills trickled down their collective spine and that's when Nesta knew that she hadn't opened a portal to you at all.

The soft clicking of heels sounded against the ground, echoing around them, the darkness parted like a curtain and faint white pulsing light flickered in the void, "Well, well. Look who's opened the door this time."

Rhys tensed and bared his teeth, snapping his head to Nesta with a seething breath. Out of the void walked Bryce, eyes cold and distant, a smirk playing on her plump lips, and she leaned against the threshold of the darkness with her arms folded over her chest and red wine hair pooling over her shoulders.

"What are you doing here?"

Bryce smirked, picking a loose thread from the stitching of her leather jacket as her gaze wandered about the room, "Don't ask me what I'm doing here. walked through an open door," her attention fell to Nesta, "I knew you had it in you," her eyes sparkled and fell to the book resting in Nesta's lap, she looked displaced, surprised by it, like it had been lost and now found, "Where did you get that?"

Confused, Nesta looked at the book littered in your scribe, allowing her mind to cast itself back to when you had first formed the attachment with it. It had spoke to you, you had told her, on a level deeper that spiritual.

"That's not your story to hold," Bryce growled, throwing her hand and beckoning for the bundle of pages, "It's the only thing that remains of her, give it to me."

Nesta rose to her feet and found herself needing to know why Bryce was so intent in taking the worn out thing from her grip, why tears were brimming in the corners of her eyes and desperation was bubbling within her, "Of who?"

"Y/N."

Nesta snapped her gaze to Rhys whose gaze softened at the name, his guard dropping if only slightly, "How do you know her?" Azriel asked, his voice low and hoarse, like he had cried his throat raw.

"How do I- What? She's my friend, she helped us defeat the most inhuman thing you could ever imagine and dragged it through a portal. I tried to find her, but I couldn't. She was just, gone."

The cogs began to turn.

That day Eris had found you, he said you were covered in blood, wearing a foreign armour and had talons sharp enough to tear flesh upon your fingers; he had said it looked as though you had stumbled right into Autumn from the battlefield. It was because you had, and you had brought something with you.

The claws scraping across Prythian belonged to whatever you had dragged with you, to the thing that had laid dormant to not alert you to its presence, but now that you were gone. Gods.

"When you say that this," Nesta held up the book, "Is the only thing left of her. What does that mean?"

Bryce blinked hard, her whisky amber eyes blazing in their sockets, "That's her story, someone alive during the time of the collapse of her empire wrote of it, of her and everything she lost. Give it to me, she'd want me to protect it."

It was clear that Bryce was unaware that you were still alive, maybe, and even Rhys felt a pang of sympathy for the whimpering girl before his eyes, "Y/N isn't dead. A week ago she was here, with us. Now she's gone."

"She was here?"

Azriel hummed, "Yes. She had no memory of who she was, we called her Flora. As soft as a petal in the rain at Spring."

Bryce scoffed in disbelief, "If she fell here then that means,” she trailed off with widened eyes that moved to gaze beyond the window to the dark clouds clinging to the skies, “It means he’s here too.”

The roomed dimmed, the sound of Bryce’s rushed breaths swelled inside of the four walls protecting them from the evil lurking beyond, it was watching them inquisitively, awaiting to see their next move. Azriel took a step forward, head tilted to the side and examining the girl before him, “Who?”

“Cados. Her brother,” wind rattled against the windows at the name like it was a forbidden thing, that to speak it meant death; branches scratched against the panes, “We have to find her. You don't know what he can do, she's the only one who can stop him."

"We're trying," Nesta's voice was quiet and wavering, she sounded as defeated as she looked as she held that book close to her chest.

Bryce's gaze softened, the portal rippled behind her in question, and then Bryce saw just how badly they were handling your disappearance. It reminded her of the time when you had sacrificed yourself for them, when she and Ruhn and Hunt had to watch hopelessly from the torched battleground as you tumbled through the sky wrapped around Cados' body, pulling him through one of your portals.

Bryce had waited weeks for you to come back until she succumbed to the gut wrenching realisation that you may not have made it.

There was no one as fierce as you, no one as cocky and intelligent, no one who had planned everything so meticulously that everyone around you would unknowingly follow each turn in the story. If you wanted someone to do something, they would, whether they knew it or not.

They called you Flora. You would have howled at the name, the pretty floral note that was stark in its difference to how Lunathion knew you.

"Do you have something of hers? When I landed here it was because the Starsword had called to Truthteller, like calls to like. If you do then perhaps we can use it to find her," Bryce motioned between herself and Nesta.

Rhys shuffled on his feet, "Her armour is here, would that suffice?"

The red wine haired girl nodded gently, the gears in her mind churning, "It would," she visibly winced like she had just realised something, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling through it, "I'll have to bring my clan through. Maybe try not to maim them Mr High Lord."

Nesta smirked, forgetting how much she loved the sarcasm and wit that consumed Bryce, and when Nesta thought of it, it made complete sense that she would be your friend. She could almost see it, the fleeting image of you in a tight dress swaying to the horrid music that had sang from that odd device in the cave that day. It seemed as though you were some kind of traveller of sorts.

One memory.

One tiny little memory.

But which one?

Orbs of frosted glass glowed in the open doorway that you had been avoiding, hovering at different heights and previewing images playing on the surface, and each one emitted its own soft audio, a glimpse into what you once were.

Standing in the centre of the pitch black pit, you struggled to choose one.

The ground rippled like when a pebble dropped into a shallow lake, flowing outward in a circular formation with every step you took. A thin black gown hung from your shoulders, there was no form to it, and the hem was damp from kissing the ground.

The spheres bobbed along like apples in a barrel at a fair, floating in front of your face. War. Love. Sex. Heartache. Friendships. It was all there in front of you, your story, but you didn't know where to start.

One of the orbs glowed brighter than the rest, it held an electric blue hue to it, the searing heat of it forcing smoke to rise and dance upward into the non-existent atmosphere, a house without shelter. The air shifted, it grew heavy and dense with desire, and you knew that orb of blue fire was the one.

Fire exploded around you, coating the walls and slithering along the ground, but not touching you, not harming you in any way. There was a woman, gold hair and blue eyes that matched your own, they even held the same currents of gold as yours did; she was regal, a queen if you'd ever seen one, and you were a ghost in the memory.

A version of you walked with her, arm in arm, through an all too familiar forest, turrets loomed overhead but not in a threatening way. There was a certain pity in her eyes that stirred a familiar pain in your gut, this version of you didn't look like you at all, she was a shell, young, pale and cowering, skin clear compared to what you now wore.

How old was this memory?

Words were muffled, and you had to to take a step forward to follow the flurry of words, to follow where the woman was taking you, ducking under arched branches and feeling peace with the trickle of the babbling brooks. It was a magical place, so magical that you felt your own magic swim inside of you.

The woman was so familiar, you found yourself examining her face, always floating back to those eyes, she didn't look much older than you but you weren't sure if that was due to the fae aging that clearly dwelt within her.

Her words was simple and soft, she was sorry, she would avenge your pain, she would make sure your home lay with her always, she would always stand with you, she would never allow you to feel alone and forgotten.

To whatever end.

Authors Note

It's finally hereeeeeee x

I know it's been ages, I'm so sorry! I kind of got into a writing slump with this fic as I started other projects :(

Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @isaxbella749 @aactuaaltraash @blackgirlmagicforever @imma-too-many-fandoms @b1ravenclaw @tsumsamu @donttellthecats @glaciuswduo @mybestfriendmademe @daardyrnitta @cleverzonkwombatsludge @sevikas-whore @yourmumsdumptruck @saltedcoffeescotch @rogersbarnesxx @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @edance2000 @lilah-asteria @acourtofdreamsandshadows @amberlynn98

#imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #fanfiction #maasverse #rhysand #cassian #mor acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar series #acotar x reader #azriel #elain archeron #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #feyre acotar #amren acotar #amren #bryce quinlan

[high-queen-feyre]

Feyre and Rhys would care for Nyx so much. I NEED TO READ ABOUT THEM BEING PARENTS.

I will eat that up so quick, Feyre and Rhys making a bet on what Nyx's first words would be.

Then Rhysand is cooing "Nyx, say Ma-Ma."

And Feyre is over there like "Da-Da, Nyx."

And it's just cute fluffy shit after everything they've been through

#acotar #pro feyre #feyre acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #pro feyre archeron #feyre and rhysand #feysandnyx #feysand #feyre x rhysand

[gorillagripcooch]

I love these outfits they are so elegant and glittery:) I hope I managed to capture their romantic essence ~

#a court of mist and fury #sarah j. maas #acotar #feysand #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhys acotar

[velidewrites]

Rhysand: We should get married Feyre: We've been dating for less than a month Rhysand: And I think I've shown incredible restraint waiting this long

#incorrect acotar quotes #feysand #pro feysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #acotar memes #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[dimalry]

Feysand & Nyx 🫶🏽

I‘ve been silent for a few days due to technical problems on IG and Tumblr… tbh I forgot about Tumblr. I haven’t stopped posting and sharing (mainly on Tik Tok) and boycotting pro- Israel brands and I don’t plan to anytime soon.

This artwork and some others were made before the 7th of October. I wasn’t emotionally able to finish them after, but I still wanted to post them.

Do NOT repost without credit!

IG: dimaalry

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #nyxarcheron #can’t tag n*yx properly #i don’t want to risk my artwork showing up under tags of any pro-Is/rael brand #acotar #digital art #illustration