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#acotar x oc
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You don’t get to tell me about sad
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a/n: blame TTPD for this… idk why I keep doing this to myself.
summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.
warnings: past trauma, mean people, age gap but everyone is of age so calm down.
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Azriel wasn’t sure who or what he was blaming for the situation that was unfolding. He could blame Rhys, who had put him on this duty. Could blame himself. He had been sloppy during his last assignment and nearly died in the middle of it. Meaning that he had to knock it down a tad. Just until he was fully recovered. And then he could raise his middle fingers at fate. Because she was laughing at him now. He should have just stayed put for a couple more months. Keep it to himself that he was itching to do something. Not sit there practically begging for an assignment. Well, now he dug his own grave, and he was forced to lay in it. 
Letting out a deep sigh, Azriel pushes back from the outside wall. Fluttering his wings a couple of times. A short-term thing, Rhys had said when he slipped the document onto the table. It had taken one glance for Azriel to feel the bitter taste in his mouth. But he hated saying no. Even if babysitting wasn’t on his list of duties.
"Ah, sir, it’s so lovely to see you. It is an honor to have the shadowsinger in our presence," an unfamiliar voice pulled him out of his thoughts, making Azriel’s head spin to the side. He had truly been just standing outside the villa for way too long. “Azriel will do just fine," he breathes out, turning to who he assumed was one of the servants. The sweet older man smiles, “I assume you are here to see the high lord." There’s no bitterness in his voice, and there's a true sense of pride there. “Unfortunately...", Azriel grunts, making the male practically gasp under his breath before he quickly pulls himself together. A fake version of the smile he had given Azriel, now neatly plastered on his face, “This way, please.”
Azriel doesn’t let his eyes wander as he walks through the halls. They were never familiar to him, and he doesn’t plan on changing that ever. So he strides along with the servant, wishing he could walk just a little faster. But by the sudden sharp turn, Azriel is quick to realize that no one is taking him to the belly of the beast. A side sunroom. That almost makes Azriel smile. He liked that he wasn’t trusted enough to be greeted in the main office. 
"Azriel," a voice that never failed to make Azriel frown, greets him as soon as the wooden door opens. "Eris," Azriel says, fixing his eyes on the male in front of him. A male who looked surprisingly awful. Eris loved looking good and not letting others see the real thing hiding behind the fox mask. "Sit," the new high lord gestured to the plush armchair, but Azriel shakes his head, “I rather not.” Eris lets out a sigh. “I’m sure you’ve seen the request," he says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Bald of you to request anything truthfully," Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugs at the fireling lips, “Maybe I like stooping low from time to time.” 
But Azriel refused to let on, “You hid her. You went behind the law." That was the first thing he had said to Rhys as well. But, of course, there were exceptions for the royal families even there. “I didn’t hide her," and here it was in that much firmer tone, one that always jumped out when one accused Eris of anything, “Beron did. Used her to control me. Too many souls know that she is a weak link”, “Surprised you didn’t just leave her by the border the way you did with Mor" Azriel cut in, letting that bubbling frustration ooze out. Even if he had promised himself he wouldn’t stoop so low, “She was also a weak link, wasn’t she?”, he jabbed, making Eris clench his fists. From the fire burning in his eyes, Azriel knew that the bite back would be as lethal as it probably would have been if not for the noise outside the room. The sound of feet and a figure practically falling through the door. 
"Eris," the voice was breathless, notes of laughter still on it. Tapping of the paws followed suit. As two hounds brushed past the folds of your skirt, rushing towards their true owner, "Eris, look..." your voice hitched as your eyes landed on Azriel. His face remained as cold as it was before, but he had to admit it. Azriel was waiting to see a scrawny girl. Not a young and mature female. Sharp autumn features. And those breathtaking green eyes...
“Oh, I...”, you quickly lowered your head, “I will come by later," but before you didn’t even turn, before Eris grunted, “No, come in, YN." You blinked a couple of times, clearly confused as to why you might be needed here. “What’s going on?", the question was practically a whisper as you wiped the dirt-covered hands on the skirt that looked nothing like the kind a princess should wear. 
“There will be changes happening," Eris said, placing his hands on the table, “You’ve been misbehaving." A light chuckle slipped past your lips. “What?" you breathed, shaking your head. “I do not have the patience nor time to run after you," the high lord said, waving his hand in the air. And that was all it took to make your shoulders droop. Your big eyes staring back at your brother, but Azriel sensed the shift in your energy. He saw the twitch in Eris’s hands, but he didn’t back down. “The spymaster will be taking you with him. You’re to behave accordingly,", “I will not go anywhere with that… tree of a man," you hissed, pointing to Azriel, who almost laughed at the insult. If one could even call it that. “What is this nonsense you’re weaving?”, you stepped forward, demanding an answer. 
“Mind your tone, young lady," Eris growled, pointing a warning finger at you. The room grew quiet. You could hear the flickering of the candles. A heartbeat. One, two, three. “I will stay in my room; I won’t go anywhere, I promise," you begged. Desperation. A nice weapon. But Azriel doubted that it would work on Eris. “You said that the last time and then proceeded to sneak out with Makoa."  Eris reached for the glass bottle, pulling a glass out. He had already settled on his decision, and he was showing you just that. “That was one time," you whispered, desperately trying to catch your brother’s eye. 
“Don’t lie to me," Eris chuckled. “I’m not," and you weren’t. Azriel felt it. He knew that Eris felt it too. “Pack what you need. You’re to leave as soon as possible. Further instructions will be given to you through the spymaster," and that was it. Dismissed. For a moment, Azriel thought that he would have to watch you cry. Beg maybe. “That’s all?”, you hissed through gritted teeth. “You want me to kiss it better?”, Eris asked. A breath hitched in your throat. Knuckles turning white from how hard you clenched your fists. You just spun on your heel. Candles dancing in your movement. A harsh slam of the door. 
Eris let out a shaky breath, but Azriel couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from his lips. “You are a different breed," the spymaster said, shaking his head. “It will be easier this way," Eris muttered, not taking his eyes from the door. “I beg to differ," Azriel pointed out, turning to leave as well. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, shadowsinger," the fireling bit back. Azriel turned to face him once more. “But you asked for my help," and he knew he had a winning card in his hands. “I’m not doing this because you asked. I'm doing this because she is innocent in all of this."  That was the last thing he said before he stepped out too. 
He had barely made it to the outside terrace when he saw you practically stomping toward the woods. “Mother, give me patience," he muttered under his breath before leaping into the sky. “Where are you going?", he called out. But you didn’t stop. Your steps didn’t falter as you pushed past another branch. “To your fucking court," you hissed, taking your anger out on the poor bushes as you stepped over them.
“Are you sure it’s that way?”, Azriel called out, landing just a couple of feet behind you. You halted, turning left. “Save us both the trouble and let me winnow us there," he said, reaching for your hand, but you turned so fast, pulling a shining dagger from your belt and aiming it at Azriel’s throat. “If you touch me, I will skin you," you grunted angrily. Azriel lifted his hand, pushing his fingers beneath the blade. “You would have to aim a bit higher, princess; you wouldn’t hit the vital artery." He watched the way your jaw practically grinned your teeth to the nerve. 
“Don’t worry, I can always aim for your balls," you snarled back, turning away. Azriel rubbed a hand over his face, letting you walk a few feet ahead. “So, the plan is to walk through Autumn, Winter, Dawn, and Day, and let’s not forget the under-the-mountain part," he pointed out. You stopped once more. Even with your back turned to him, Azriel could tell the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly. 
Turn around; he practically begged in his head; don’t make me regret this even more. But just as he had concluded before, this was Mother’s way of making him pay for everything bad that he had done. Because you stepped forward, inching deeper into the forest. Azriel shook his head. For a moment, he considered letting you walk away, but he took to the skies instead.
You weren’t even sure if you were mad. Were you sad? Annoyed? Confused? It was all fine. Just last week, you were both swimming in the lake. You and your brother. Laughing. He had even pulled out his carving knife. It was fine. Lucien was going to come back, too. Angry tears rolled off your cheeks as you push back another branch, ducking under it. At least that winged bruit had chosen to leave you by. But they all do. A bitter laugh slipped past your lips at the thought of it. A burden from birth—that’s what your father told you day in and day out. Maybe if he had finished what he had started that night...
That thought snaps the same way as the branch beneath you. Your feet twist, making you yell slightly as the pain shoots up your leg. But that’s the least of your concerns, as your weight makes you topple over, hand-breaking the fall as the edge of the dome looms closer. Maybe fate has decided to give you a helping hand. But before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your middle, pulling you up. 
“So you actually can’t be left to your own devices," a deep voice mutters, and you are cursing Mother once more because she could have sent anyone else, but no, that winged male had to be the one. “No one asked for your interference," you grunt, trying to push out of his grip. “Your manners are shit for a princess," he says, and you can’t wait to put him in his place, but the moment you manage to wiggle out of his grip, putting all of your weight on your feet, shooting pain rips through you. You hiss, stumbling over. The spymaster grips your elbow, steadying you. 
“What hurts?”, his voice is solid, but there’s no anger in it. "Nothing," you say through gritted teeth, thankful for the sunset that had already draped the forest in shadows, letting you hide your splotchy face. “Nothing?”, he asks again, “So, if I were to let go?”, “I said nothing.”You pull your hand away, turning back. You can hide a limp. You’ve hidden worse. Right? But you don’t get to take a single step back. Your ankle betrays you as a pained cry slips past your gritted teeth. 
And in a heartbeat, he is there. His big palm once again splayed against your stomach as he steadied you against his chest. Your heartbeat jumps up, but you don’t even get to gasp when he turns you around, lowering you to the nearest fallen trunk. You watch him with a frown. But don’t dare to fight anymore. What’s the point anyway? 
He kneels, his hands moving towards the hem of your skirt. You expect him to just lift it, but his hands halt as he tilts his head up. You can see that he stutters slightly at the sight of your puffy eyes. “Can I?”, he asks. You grit your teeth, “Don’t you own me now? You can do what you want." He frowns. True confession there. “I don’t own you. I am here to protect you. A bodyguard if you will," he says, and even if you want to call him out for lying, something tells you that he is not. “I don’t need protection," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Considering that you just nearly went flying over the edge," the spymaster gestures over his shoulder. You huff, lifting your left leg. Wincing from the movement alone. 
He reaches for it. His hands… Your heart skips a beat at the scars all over them. You can’t see much, considering that he’s wearing long-sleeved leather, but his whole hand... “You sprained it; it’s already puffing up." His voice makes you jump slightly as you nod along. He glances at you. “I’m afraid your journey through the five courts will have to be cut short, princess." He tries not to show it, but the bastard is practically oozing satisfaction. “Don’t call me that," you say, pulling your leg out of his grasp, cursing under your breath. “Princess?”, he asks almost smugly. “I still have two hands, you fuck," you grunt, trying to stand up, but the spymaster works quicker. His arms snake over your legs and back, and you’re up in his arms in the blink of an eye. You cross your own arms over your chest, refusing to hold onto him. “A tree, a fuck. All very original insults," he says drily, “Try Azriel next time, though. We’re trying to be professional about it after all.”
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artethyst · 2 months
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~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~ Pt.1
Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister! Reader/OC
“Azriel we have been over this,” Rhysand brought a hand to his face, slim digits ghosting across his jaw in deep thought. “It is out of my hands- you are forbidden from telling her. Do you understand?”
“Even you cannot forbid me from such a thing,” he let out a dark chuckle is disbelief. “Tell me, High Lord, why is it that two of my brothers have found their mate- free to accept the bond, and it is I left alone- in the dark? As usual.” The Shadowsinger’s voice dripped with venom, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face as his primal instincts took over, having no outlet for such scathing carnal desires- having been barred from even spending time with his Mate.
“Azriel, you know it is not the same.”
“How is it not the same?”
“She is still coming to terms with what happened to her- her powers are still out of control-”
“Then let me help her!”
“That is Cassian’s job.”
The two men became silent as a soft rap on the door signified them of a presence- her presence, Azriel noted, her soothing scent of fresh lillies and the first rain of spring overwhelming him as her angelically golden head poked through the door nervously.
He felt his lips tug at the corner at the sight of her, Rhysand giving him a warning look at the almost unnoticeable gesture.
Azriel. The familiar voice was strained. Leave us.
“I…I apologise for interrupting,” came her gentle voice, twinkling blue eyes apologetic as Azriel was forced to tear his own away, the golden thread that only he could see taunting him in glittering ocean of her iris.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” came the Shadowsinger’s smooth reply, bowing in such a way Rhysand knew his infamous patience had been worn thin. “High Lord.”
~
Azriel had not ventured far, his shadows, uncharacteristically disobedient, willing him to stay close enough to her- his Mate in an onyx haze of longing he was beginning to suffocate under.
He watched Rhysand leave first, jaw ticking as the male rounded the corner, anticipating his sister-in-law to follow in tow, her gossamer gown and its iridescent scintillation billowing around her like a halo.
He heard her gasp as one of them curled itself around her pointed ear, cursing beneath his breath, only to hear her giggle- a liberating sound that might have exalted him from the depths of his own hell, an angelic noise that could have him repenting on his knees just to hear a single note of.
“Azzie…” she smiled up at him, as he remained still- as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t- he had. “Your shadows are loose again!”
Only for you- ever for you, he wanted to say, words turning to ash quicker than the breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.
He wished he could ask Feyre to immortalise the moment as she stood- tendrils of him dancing across her unblemished skin, their dark illimitability neither scaring nor disgusting her as her rosy cheeks widened, their vaporous talons ardently skimming over her guiltlessness.
“S-Sorry,” was all that came out, low and stuttered, his bronzed countenance flushing at his own weakness- thanking the mother Cassian was not around to tease him for it.
“Do you think they like me?” She teased, unaware of the true weight of her words, “they never seem to latch on to anyone else…” She trailed off as he called them back, unable to stomach the sight of her- so close and yet so far from him, in such a cruel display of fate.
“It is hard for anything not to.” He mused gently, not missing the way her rosebud lips parted, the saccharine scent of her own innate longing drifting up to him in taunting waves of arousal.
“Azriel-” She had not used his name- called him that for such a long time, her fair face falling as he stormed away, wondering what she had done- had said for him to treat her so callously.
Her hand was splayed out in a fruitless attempt to stop him from abandoning her and prevent him from vanishing entirely- a frustrating habit he adopted had as of recent, baring its ugly, wilted head whenever their conversations has begun to blossom beyond anything other than formality.
In the few years she had known him he had never acted in such a way, making her slowly retreat back into the self-loathing girl he had once culled from her self inflicted cage. His own heart lurched as he felt her through the unclaimed bond- suffering, again, because of him.
He had been the one to make her feel like she was home- that he might have even been it. Yet the retreating coils of his own darkness reminded her that he could never love her.
That she would never be enough for a man such as he.
And as her soul cried for him in a manner she had yet to recognise, his own howled back in a melancholic crescendo as he cursed the Mother for always deafening his heart’s symphony.
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readychilledwine · 3 months
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hello helloooo! I’m back with another fic idea if it interests you ✨so little Nyx is old enough to go to school maybe like kindergarten-ish age? And one day the IC is eating dinner and Nyx is like “I have a mate!” And obviously he doesn’t but still Rhys and Feyre are like WTF and then read his little bby mind and find out he’s just infatuated with his teacher. (Nyx gave her a cookie that he baked with the help of Elain which she ate and now he thinks they’re mates bc he’s too young to understand that that’s not how it works) and then during a school carnival or gathering or cute kindergarten level graduation the IC attends with Nyx and ofc Azriel is there. He doesn’t even know who Nyx’s teacher is but then he sees Nyx dragging a young female over to him where he introduces her to him, proudly saying “this is my mate!” And she just laughs but then the bond snaps for her and Azriel. And then fluff ensues from there with everyone trying to explain to Nyx that she’s not his mate and that she’s Azriel’s to which he takes forever to understand. He keeps trying to give her treats and flowers so that they’ll somehow be mates. Azriel becomes public enemy #1 in Nyx’s eyes because he stole her from him. And then fast forward to when Nyx is older, maybe finally with a mate of his own and they tell him the story at his wedding and he’s so embarrassed about it. could def see this as an OC fic but x reader works just as well!
Infatuation
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I love writing little baby Nyx 🥺🥺🥺
Warnings - Nyx being a bit of a menace to society *well Az*
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Nyx was beaming. Bouncing as he ate his dinner, little wings flapping every so often.
It wasn't unusual. Being surrounded by this much love, this much joy, this much devotion had made the little heir the happiest of babies, then a happy toddler, and now a happy 5 year old.
He picked up his little cup, sucking on the straw and took a big drink as Rhysand and Feyre shared a look. He set it back down with a satisfied lip smack and went back to his mashed potatoes.
"Alright, I'll bite," Cassian put his knife down. "What happened at school today?"
"I met my mate," Rhysand's face dropped at his son's little confession. "And she's perfect, and nice, and prettier than mommy."
Feyre hid her laugher behind a mask of concern before gently digging into Nyx's head.
There, as Nyx thought about his mate, was Miss Arianna, legs crossed as she read to them on the floor. Her black hair was tied up in two buns with pieces framing her face. She had a big smile on her lips as she read in different voices from the children's book.
Feyre and Rhys, despite their status, sat on a waiting list to have Nyx in her lessons. She was highly sought after, her students were all advanced for their little ages, and she allowed time in their schedules for naps. Something many teachers felt was unnecessary.
Rhys had loved you the moment he made the choice to ignore his morals and enter your mind during their interview.
You didn't care who they were.
You didn't care about their status.
You cared about the faelings.
You took children from every walk of life in Velaris. The poor, the rich, high fae, low fae. It didn't matter to you.
Rhys and Feyre both shared a look and chuckled. "And who is your mate, Nyx?"
He sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes, mind now flashing to you comforting him after he got hurt at recess, "Miss Arianna. I gave her a cookie, and we shared it, so I'm a taken male now."
Nesta had her hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. "Well," Cassian started before a slap came to his thigh, warning him to let Rhys and Feyre take care of this gently. "You did better than Auntie Ness. She offered me a stale biscuit."
"Your mom made me a can of soup. Worse can of soup I've ever had. Lucien, what did Elain give you?"
Lucien smirked and leaned back, hand on Elain's pregnant stomach. "A five course meal with dessert."
They were all hoping Nyx would understand the implications of what they were saying, but the far-off look and content sigh told them he didn't.
A few weeks later, the inner circle and all of their partners and mates were at the school's end of the year celebration.
The grass had been packed with games, little events for the children, vendors charging nothing for sweets and foods at the kindness and generosity of the High Lord and Lady.
Nyx had long abandoned his family. Opting to run and play with his friends. Cassian and Nesta stood with their daughter, looking over the schools information sheets and the application to join Miss Arianna's class for next year.
"Mommy!" Feyre turned at the voice, beginning to laugh as Nyx dragged his teacher behind him. "Mommy! You were supposed to be behind me!" The heir tapped his foot, Miss Arianna looking away as she hid her smile at his little antics. "I had to bring her all the way over here!"
Arianna and Feyre held eye contact both of their eyes sparkling and knowing where this was going. "Mommy, this is my wife and mate, Miss Arianna," he pulled her to Mor and Emerie first. "This is my Auntie Mor and her wife Emerie." He didn't wait before ripping her to Amren and Varian. "Aunite Amren and Varian. You'll like Auntie Amren. She's real smart." She was pulled to Rhys next. The two adults shook their heads, smiling. "This is daddy. You can call him.... uh. Daddy?" He pulled her to Cassian and Nesta. "Auntie Ness and Uncle Cass," he looked around brow knit in confusion. "Where's Uncle Az and Clarissa?"
Rhys patted his head. "Ris wanted cotton candy, so Az took her to get cotton candy. Why don't you go play too? Then we can talk to your wife."
They watched as Nyx ran off. Clearly not looking to play but trying to find his missing uncle. "I tried telling him, but he's so attached to the idea of us spending the rest of our lives together that he doesn't fully understand."
They all laughed. "We tried too. He told us that we didn't understand."
"Strange. He said to me that the bond didn't snap right away for you either, High Lady, so he'd find the Suriel to tell me, and I'd feel it after that."
A soft pout came to Feyre's lips. "He doesn't understand why you won't be their teacher next year."
Arianna's face fell, the fine features morphing into sadness and longing. "I introduced them to Alexios and even had him sit and answer questions during round up day. I can talk to him. I'm so sorry. I wish I could keep them until higher level learning. We just-"
Feyre hugged her, stopping the unneeded apology. "We know. Cassian and Nesta were hoping to get Clarissa in your class."
"And we were hoping to hire you for private tutoring," Rhys, like his son, was not ready to let Her go. He had spent countless nights looking for ways to keep Nyx in her classes. "We would pay you well."
"That wouldn't be necessary," she turned to Cassian and Nesta, a big smile on her face. "Would you like to see my room? I'll have a different theme next year, but it will give you an idea of my environment."
"Lead the way," Cassian held Nesta close. Watching the two females interact, inserting questions as they walked into her classroom.
The Inner Circle all went to find food and place to eat, enjoying the small screams of joy and laughter around them. "She's really pretty," Emerie started slowly. "Maybe we should hook her up with Azriel. He hasn't dated since Gwyn."
Varian visibly flinched at the mentioned of Gwyn. "Does he still hate Tarquin?"
"Yes," they all answered together.
Azriel joined them seconds later. He was carrying Risa and holding Nyx's hand. "She crashed. Where's Cass? I'm going to take her home?"
Rhys motioned towards the schoolhouse, pulling Nyx to him and telling him to sit and eat. "Arianna offered them a tour of the classroom. A quiet place out of the sun might perk our niece back up, too."
Azriel nodded, carrying the small illyrian into the school house and following his shadows. He could hear melodic laughter and Cassian's loud voice, pausing at the doorway as his niece stirred and snuggled back into him, whispering for daddy. "He's right here, princess."
Nesta motioned for Azriel to join her. His jaw dropped at the sight of the classroom. It was a domed open glass ceiling, but the second it he entered, it began filtering light. "It knows she's sleeping," that voice had his shadows dancing. "I enchanted my room for my students so they're always in a comfortable environment. Never too bright, hot, or cold."
The room was filled with toys and exotic stuffed animals for snuggling. It was decorated like a rain forest from the continent, and an occasional call of something wild could be heard. "I suppose you enchanted all of this too?"
Azriel didn't look her direction, a look of shock and amazement going Nesta's way. Lady Death nodded eagerly, her eyes almost watering. She'd be heartbroken if Clarissa wasn't here next year, Azriel realized.
"Is this the little potential enrollee?" She walked over to Azriel, and nothing else was heard in the room. They didn't hear Cassian or Nesta respond, they no longer heard the soft sounds of animals and birds calling in the distance.
It was like everything in Azriel's life fell onto a new axis.
Arianna was his mate. The female he'd spent forever looking for.
And his nephew was obsessed with her.
Arianna spoke first, "We can't tell Nyx."
Azriel nodded. "I'll get banished to Mother knows where if we do."
Cassian looked between them before smiling, "Did you just secure my daughter's spot in her class? What kind of Aunt wouldn't teach her niece?"
Nesta smacked him hard, smiling from ear to ear. "Have dinner with us tonight? We share one of Rhys' and Feyre's houses with Azriel. He could fly you up for dinner, and we could all get to know each other."
"Only if you want that," Azriel nodded the second the sentence left her lips. "As, am I allowed to be blunt now?" They all nodded. "I was going to take her regardless," she turned to Nesta. "Morrigan scares me. It's why I took Nyx, too."
Arianna held Azriel's hand tight as they walked to the Riverhouse.
They had spent the summer getting to know each other. Going to coffee, to dinner, on long walks along the Sindra. It had taken all of a month for the two of them to decide this was serious, and they both wanted to move forward with the bond.
But that meant telling Nyx, who was still very much infatuated with her.
Azriel sighed as he grabbed the handle, "Ready?"
She nodded, hand stick folded delicately on his bicep. "Only if you are."
Azriel pushed the door to the lavish home open, smiling at Rhys and Feyre, who were waiting for them. They, Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel, had all decided the best way to do this was over a full family dinner.
"Uncle Az!" The shadoesinger stiffened. He had thought they would at least get to the table before the little heir appeared, but the Mother must have had other plans.
He came bounding into the room before stopping at the doorway with a loud gasp.
Azriel had never felt more like chopped liver as Nyx ran to his mate, hugging her legs. "Uncle Az brought my wife to dinner, Daddy!"
Rhysand scratched the stubble he had allowed to grow out due to his days being spent caring for Nyx as Feyre sat the throne. "We should all go sit on the couch, buddy. We need to talk about something."
Arianna allowed Nyx to pull her with him, looking back at Azriel with tears in her eyes.
He had discovered during their time together she had a Cauldron gift, one that had never been trained and just thought of as a personality trait. Arianna was an empath. She felt the emotions of others so deeply and could manipulate them if she tried.
It explained why she was so attached to children and them to her.
It also made her very useful in stressful situations. "Just breathe," Azriel mouthed as they all followed.
"Oh shit," Nesta whispered quietly. "We're doing this now?"
Rhys nodded. His eyes were already lining with silver as he sat across from Nyx with Azriel on one side and Feyre on the other.
The room was very quiet until Azriel spoke. "Nyx, Miss Arianna and I really need to tell you something, and we need you to try to stay calm." The shadowsinger sent a silent prayer to whatever Gods would listen and watched as one of his shadows held Arianna's free hand.
"Miss Arianna is my mate. I asked her to marry me."
The heir's face morphed into a little look of betrayal, his eyes starting to water as Rhysand and him held eye contact. "She's my mate, though."
Nyx looked at Feyre, hoping for support before looking back to a defeated Rhys. "I'm sorry, buddy, but She's Uncle Azriel's mate. Do you remember me telling you about the thread that connects me to Mommy?"
The heir cuddled closer into Arianna, glaring hard towards Azriel. "Why are you so mean?"
Feyre gasped at the question, immediately grabbing Azriel's hand. "Nyx!"
"He's trying to steal my wife!"
Arianna was in tears. The heirs emotions were overwhelming. She took over the conversation, blocking everyone from Nyx by taking both hands and sitting on the coffee table. "Nyx, honey, I'm so sorry, but Az and I are mates," they all felt the small tinge of magic shift. "I know this is hard for you. Your feelings are so valid, and it's difficult when you feel something this deeply to let go of that notion. It's hard processing such big emotions."
She wiped one of his tears. "Your mate is out there, hun. And she's wonderful, kind, smart, and closer in age than I am to you. You two will have so much more in common, and you will find joy and happiness in her that you never will in me."
"But she won't be you," Nyx sobbed heavily. "We're supposed to spend forever together."
She smiled softly. "And we will. You will always have me in your life. We will always be friends."
He glared towards Azriel, and Arianna turned his little head towards her. "You are hurting his feelings. Uncle Az loves you. We've spent a lot of time talking about how to handle this because he knew it would upset you, and it hurts his heart to see you so sad. You don't want to hurt Az. I can see if in your little face."
Nyx still glared at Az. "What if you two break up?"
"You'll be the first to know, bud," Azriel said softly.
"Good."
"Good," Azriel repeated.
"Fine."
"Fine," the heir smiled as his Uncle teased him.
It was then that Nyx decided to dive on Azriel, the Illyrian coming out of them as he started a tickle fight. "She was mine first!"
Azriel was laughing, holding the smiling boy close to him and allowing him to win. "And now she can be our. We can make her go places with us, bug her while we fight with our training swords, do pranks."
The heir stopped, that dimpled smile coming back out. "Prankies?"
Arianna's face fell as everyone started laughing. "Wait. What?"
Azriel smiled at her, sending her his love as Nyx whispered in his ear.
"We good?" She mouthed to him. He nodded, holding Nyx close. She stood to go comfort Rhys and Feyre, only for a shadow to trip her. "AZRIEL!"
The heir and shadowsinger ran off laughing as the other couples watched Arianna with shared grins, "Don't worry, sweetness," Cassian helped her up. "They're just getting started."
.General tag list:@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager
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prythianpages · 7 months
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A Court of Shadows & Moonlight
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A Court of Shadows & Moonlight | azriel x rhy's sister (OC)
Summary: Daughter of the Night Court's High Lord. Half Illyrian. Half High Fae. Rhysand's little sister. A Dreamer. Only few know her as Valeria and only one knows her truth. She is the moon, a lonely girl cratered by imperfections, and he is her night, the one who helps her shine bright.
-a story in which Azriel and Valeria are mates-
A/N: I am going through ACOTAR withdrawals after finishing ACOSF. Rhysand's sister is a character I think of a lot and I love Azriel so when I saw a theory/imagine of her and Azriel being mates, I couldn't help myself. This was originally just meant to be a collection of imagines but I decided to expand further on the love story between Val and Az. Below you can find “Val’s Early Life,” which consists of stories about her upbringing and early adulthood. It’s not necessary to read them to follow the story but it is a nice backstory and provides context as there is already somewhat of an established relationship between Val and Az. I made another masterlist for the actual story, which you can find below.
I made a playlist for this and you can find it here, if interested.
angst= ♥️ fluff = ☁︎ smut= ☪︎
*the ones that have no symbol are neutral or have subtle hints of angst/fluff and are put at the top of the imagine.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*Val's Early Life˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
-> The Night she was born
-> The Night her powers came
-> The Night she met Cassian
-> The Night she met the shadowsinger ☁︎
-> The Night Azriel took his first flight ☁︎
-> The Night she made her first friend ☁︎
-> The Night she caught Cassian
-> The Night of their first solstice in Velaris ☁︎
-> The Night she asked about Love
-> The Night Azriel found out her secret ♥️
-> The Night she gets her heartbroken ♥️
-> The Night she met Noctis ☁︎
-> The Night of her 18th Birthday ♥️
-> The Night they join the Bloodrite ♥️
-> The Night they return from the Bloodrite ♥️
-> The Night she left Windhaven ♥️
-> The Night she made Azriel dance
-> The Night she made Azriel lose control ☪︎
-> The Night she played the violin for her father ♥️
-> The Night they all went to Rita’s ☪︎
-> The Night Mor was hurt ♥️
-> The Night the High Lord found out her secret ♥️
->The Night Azriel helped her heal ☁︎ ♥️
-> The Night she decided to join the Bloodrite
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*Val's & Az's story˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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hellwantfuckme · 4 months
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her warmth
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summary: Azriel returns injured from a mission, he could have visited Madja, who would make quick work of healing his wounds, he prefers to stay with her, even if it will hurt a little more, as long as the solitary wound lodged in his chest also heals.
warnings: injuries, blood
author's note: Azriel has my heart.
Eclipse's face twisted into a minuscule expression of disgust as she looked at the brutal wound, fifteen centimeters long on Azriel's muscular back, just below his shoulder, a generous space between the gash and his shoulder blades where his wings began. The expression on her face increased, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown.
"Do you still insist on not going to a healer?" Eclipse asked, her voice weak as she saw the blood. A small knot lodged in her throat.
She had had wounds like that on her body a thousand times, and had treated them on her own, miraculously, only one or two had become infected. Eclipse was thankful that Azriel was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking forward, unable to see the slight disgust on her face. She was on her knees just behind him, keeping a reckless distance from his wings. The left wing comfortably stretched across the length of her bed, the other, somewhat more uncomfortable, reaching the headboard. But both were down, relaxed, perhaps. Or maybe he was just so tired that keeping them firm, as he normally did, was heavy. Eclipse had seen him sprawled out on a sofa, totally drunk, and still his wings didn't touch the ground. She had seen him sit on his bed other times, with his wings well tucked against his back.
Eclipse didn't know how to process that information. What it meant. She took a deep breath, cleared her mind. That was something for another time, to think about his body language and analyze it until reaching a thousand conclusions, she would do it later, when the Illyrian was not sitting on her bed. When there were only remnants of his scent left.
"Is it really bad?" Azriel asked, his hoarse voice sending a shiver through her spine and making her heart race. He remained downcast, bone-tired.
She hated seeing him like this, her frown only deepened. She didn't want to acknowledge that the feeling that ran through her veins was raw concern. Eclipse looked at the wound again.
"W-well, yes, it looks pretty bad. When did you get it? A day ago, two?" Eclipse inquired, although by the way the wound looked, it was clear to her that it had been more than 24 hours. She spoke without letting Azriel answer. "From Windhaven to here is two hours, flown two hours and it still hasn't healed on its own, it will need stitches. It looks deep," Eclipse said, voicing what had been going through her mind since Azriel had taken off the leathers covering the upper part of his body and sat on the bed.
The blue-gray light from the faelights gave her perfect illumination, the wing membranes appearing more of a light pink than the usual red.
Azriel stiffened, nerves attacking her, and she tried to keep them buried, push them down. She couldn't help but overanalyze every gesture, every change, to a conclusion that had as many opportunities to be correct as to be miles away from reality.
"Or so I think, I have no idea how Illyrians heal," Eclipse muttered doubtfully. She was no healer, just a twenty-two-year-old girl who had had to heal this kind of wounds more than once. "I don't even know how Faeries... do it. But from the times that..."
"No," Azriel interrupted. "It's... you're right. If it hasn't healed yet, it won't heal on its own."
"You said you've sewn wounds on yourself more than once, right?"
A conversation they had had months ago, Eclipse blinked, the only sign of surprise. She hadn't really thought he would remember it, it had been something she had only mentioned once, less than a minute.
"I could help you with the wound, it's not too late tho, we can still call Madja and..." Her doubts about herself grew denser.
"Can you do it?" Azriel interrupted again, his shoulders rigid.
Eclipse felt the tortured way the words came out of his lips, tense as well.
Eclipse sighed, not thinking too much about the fact that he was indirectly asking her to take care of his wounds, had a kind of meaning. The kind of meaning that Eclipse would spend hours thinking about, hours tossing and turning in her bed repeating every tiny interaction over and over again.
Her hand rested on Azriel's other shoulder, a mere sign of seeking balance as she got out of her bed and headed to the bathroom attached to her room. She didn't stop to think about the much-exposed skin she was showing with that barely thigh-length blue silk nightgown, or the discrete way his eyes roamed the length of her legs, to her exposed collarbones.
She entered and left the bathroom without taking too long, gathering everything she needed.
The House had provided her with a bowl of hot water and a clean cloth, as well as a sterilized needle and thread. And also, herbs that Eclipse knew very well. Yarrow leaves that would prevent bacteria in the wound, marigold flowers that would help with inflammation, and lavender, for the pain. She had prepared this mixture a thousand times, the smell of everything reminding her of all the times she had gotten into street fights, or bar fights, and especially, the scar along her forearm itched with the memory.
She banished the mental image of all the blood and panic she had felt back then. Now she knew what to do, although the fact that she would be treating someone who wasn't herself still sparked a slight panic in her chest. Eclipse filled her lungs with air for six seconds, held it for four, and released it for another six seconds.
«Calm down.»
She carefully left everything on her nightstand, with Azriel's gaze fixed on her, his usually stoic expression interrupted by a slight frown and a very slight pink shade on his cheeks. Eclipse must have imagined it.
She dipped the cloth tip in the hot water, then submerged the fabric a little more until half of it was wet and withdrew it, wringing it to remove the excess water.
Their eyes met for just a second while Eclipse stood up, there was a glimmer in his eyes that she could not decipher. It was incredible how, even without trying to hide his emotions, it was difficult to read him.
Eclipse turned the bed around, got on it, positioning herself just behind him. Her warm, somewhat wet hand from the cloth, touched his shoulder again to recompose properly. Eclipse felt him bristle. She didn't know if it was because of the contact or because she was too close to his wings, either way she backed off a little. Still close enough to easily reach his wound but maintaining a distance between her and his wings.
She cleared her throat.
"It might hurt a little," she said.
"I've dealt with worse," Azriel told her, his voice almost guttural and tense. Eclipse stopped for a second.
Was it the pain? Or perhaps, had he changed his mind about this and wanted to leave? Maybe he had seen her nerves. Maybe the pain clouded his judgment and he hadn't thought it through.
Eclipse heard a sigh escape his nose, and she looked at the wound again, unsure of how to proceed. The idea of reminding him that he could leave if he wasn't comfortable, that they could still call Madja, was a quick order to her vocal cords, and when she was about to speak, Azriel beat her to it.
"How did you learn to heal wounds like this?" he inquired. His voice notably less tense.
Eclipse took it as an invitation and gently placed the cloth over the beginning of his smooth, firm skin break.
"I used to get into fights," Eclipse murmured as the cloth gently crossed the wound, cleaning impurities.
The smell of blood reached her, the blood and the cedar and exhaustion. Eclipse still wasn't used to the fact that emotions gave off a smell, even though she had been Fae for three years, with countless years ahead of her.
"The friends I had were all from extremely questionable security neighborhoods. They solved everything with violence, the slightest offense, the smallest debt…"
Eclipse sighed.
"I've broken my thumb twice punching wrong, and I have thousands of small scars from learning to use a dagger properly. And I've had wounds like this more times than I care to remember," she explained.
She finished cleaning the wound without giving any further explanations, and Azriel didn't speak or make any sounds of pain, he just clenched his jaw so hard she thought a tooth would break. Eclipse remembered how she had screamed, they had made her bite a belt, the first time she had gotten a wound like this and they had simply cleaned it. Although there was also the fact that she had been infinitely gentler cleaning Azriel's wound than her friends had been cleaning hers.
Eclipse got out of bed, leaving the cloth on the nightstand.
The house conjured up another wooden bowl, right next to the herbs. She put each of the herbs in the bowl, poured some hot water over them, and crushed them as best as she could. It took her longer than she would have liked, Azriel's gaze, once again, fixed on her.
"You've broken your thumb twice?" Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow. She saw curiosity and a bit of fun on his face and snorted.
"At least you know how to throw a punch," she joked, halfheartedly.
"If I haven't, are you going to push me into the ring with Cassian and have him yell orders at me?" Eclipse joked.
"Cassian would be too soft for someone who has broken their thumb twice giving a punch, and done it wrong."
"I was fifteen!" Eclipse excused herself, her voice rising only slightly. The corners of his lips curved into a tiny smile. "But I do know how to throw a punch."
"I'd like to see that," Eclipse rolled her eyes; his smile grew slightly broader.
When the ointment was ready, Eclipse positioned herself behind him again. Every time Eclipse saw the wound it seemed to get larger, bloodier.
She applied the ointment carefully on the wound, Azriel let out a small groan of pain, almost imperceptible. Eclipse grimaced and swallowed.
"Sorry," she murmured. When she finished, she looked at the needle. "Could you pass me the needle?"
Azriel handed it over without objection.
"I imagine I don't need to tell you it's going to hurt," she murmured again.
Azriel closed his eyes when the needle pierced his skin, his fists tightened the sheets beneath him.
Eclipse sewed the wound with expert hands, a process that took long minutes until it was closed. Azriel let out a sigh, and she, as gently as she could, bandaged the wound.
"Go see Madja tomorrow morning, Azriel," she practically ordered. He just nodded. Eclipse got off the bed, then, standing in front of him. He straightened up, even when a grimace of pain settled on his face at doing so, just to be able to look at her better. For the first time, he had to lift his chin to look her in the eyes.
Eclipse noticed a few drops of blood staining his face, and her muscles moved without thinking. Azriel spread his knees wide enough to make room for Eclipse between them, while her hand cradled his face, her thumb tracing the dried drop of blood on his cheek.
Azriel inevitably closed his eyes, tilting his face to the incredibly soft touch of her hand.
Her chest filled with warmth.
"You have to rest, Az," she murmured, not breaking the chocolate gaze of the man who seemed so... vulnerable. "My bed is yours if you want it."
He opened his eyes, as if wanting to confirm that she had just said that. That he wasn't imagining it. He blinked.
"Where will you sleep?" he asked, barely more than a whisper.
Eclipse nodded towards the sofa in front of the windows, it was actually large enough for her to sleep well, although she knew she wouldn't. In reality, she didn't know why she had offered it. But she didn't have time to regret it.
"No, I..."
"If you want to stay, you will stay in bed," Eclipse said, her voice firm. Azriel blinked again, surprise disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
Azriel knew it would be tremendously selfish to let the kind woman who had healed him, and who was looking after him right now, sleep on a sofa. But he couldn't leave her warmth, her scent around him. He couldn't bear to return to his room, alone. Just as he had been for five hundred years, because he had discovered that she filled a heavy void in his chest. That there wasn't a corner that felt uncomfortable with her, he couldn't find a flaw in her. Not one.
So he simply nodded. And let himself be taken care of.
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florencemtrash · 7 months
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Masterlist of Masterlists:
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A collection of my writings, all in one convenient location (AKA the root of all things posted on my blog):
ACOTAR:
The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird - updating
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
The Wisp Between Worlds - on hiatus
Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?
Flame, Shadow, Beast - Completed
Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.
The Artificer: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV - Azriel x Reader
In a Year's Time - Azriel x Reader
Let them find us here - Azriel x OC
Heads will roll - Azriel x Reader
Please remember me - Azriel x Reader
The Ballad of the Shadowsinger - Azriel x Reader
Brown Eyed Beauty - Lucien x Reader
ATSV:
Hummingbird - Completed
Summary: What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?
Wedding Invitations - Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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fxckmiup · 2 months
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𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐎𝐂
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♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}
Chapters: {01 / ??}
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Arya Darling, The Princess of the Night Court. 
Arya Ashford, The chosen mother of the Archeron sisters. 
Both were created to be the Salvation of All.
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
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•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
      » [ Nuvole Bianche ] «
     ⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Chapters: {01 / ??}
Disclaimer & Trigger Warnings
Prythian & The Lands
Seven Courts & High Lords
The Inner Circle
The Archeron's
Playlist
Prologue
01 , 02 , 03 , 04 , 05 ...
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
☾ 𝕐𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐫𝐞-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝔸ℕ𝕐 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝕀 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝔸𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. ☽
Disclaimer: All characters and the storyline of the acotar characters belong to Sarah J Maas. My OC's (Arya and a few others) and their storyline/anything to do with her, belongs to me.
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
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bakananya · 30 days
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Not well written, but the idea was too interesting to just not write it down. I will prolly write a fic on ao3 with better writing, this is just to put the idea out there so I dont forget about it. Just an enemies to lovers Azriel x oc or azriel x reader idea I had, with a lot of random background Idea I had on the character. Its angsty, and not the best meet cute but you know, I got the idea from a dream after I fell asleep listening to look what you made me, I did something bad, you should see me in a crown and therefore I am on loop. Good dream tbh. Anyway enjoy!
"What do you want from me, Shadowsinger?" She spat out, her hatred for his kind evident in her tone.
He tilts his head to the side again, his hazel eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He walked closer to her, his footsteps silent. "Nothing much, just curious as to why a young woman with no records of her existence is going out raiding, massacring and making so much chaos at illyrian camps?"
"They deserved it." She said quietly, but firmly. "If you're here for the women and their kids that are missing, they don't want to be found. They are safe, fed, comfortable and for the first time in their miserable lives, happy." She held her head high at the words.
"That did not answer my question. Why is a young girl such as yourself, carrying out such planned raids and missions? It can't possibly be to no end? What is your purpose?" He paused, giving her a moment to answer, but continued when she didn't. "You have caused quite the ruckus, you know? Become quite a threat." He said again, face still unreadable as he maintains the distance, knowing she could winnow away at any moment, in the cold and chilly mountains. It took months for him to track her once, he could not afford to lose her now.
"I will ask you again, Shadowsinger, what do you want?" She snarled.
"I am just trying to understand why you think a young girl like you is fit to be the judge, jury, and executioner. Justice is not something just anyone has the right to bestow." His words were veiled in amusement, as if all of her carefully plotted plans and raids were temper tantrums of a child, and not a movement in and of itself.
Her eyes glowed as her anger takes over and her magic her magic seeps out from her, uncontrolled and wild. The sheer strength of it had his amusement dying down into a look of wariness. "Do you want to know, Shadowsinger? You find it so amusing, don't you?"
He stares at her for a minute, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he realized her weakness.
Her wrath.
"It seems I struck a cord. I do not find it amusing, but rather pitiful, you are so young, with so much anger inside you. What a waste."
She stepped closer, her magic thrumming in the ground, yet her words were quiet, filled with a kind of contempt that could only come from years of experience of things better left unheard, and unseen. "They took me from my mother by force, chopped off my wings, used me for their pleasure and left me there to die. An illyrian camp. And no one. Did. A thing." Her eyes were glaring right into Azriel's, her eyes full of all consuming wrath, as her words reminded him of another female he knew.
She laughed, but no humor was present in her voice as she continued. "No one even knew. You and your high lord lived blissfully unaware while my existence crumbled." She hissed at him, stopping just a few steps away.
"I was broken, thought I would never find myself again as I struggled in a lonely cabin I found abandoned in the woods. Felt as if everyday, I was still there, half-dead on the side of the road. Of course I knew living in the cabin was mercy compared to how they treated the women in those camps, like slaves. And thats when a girl came knocking at my door, an escapee from a camp. We decided soon after to create a safe space, for people like us. And the rest is history." She continued, eyes becoming damp at the memory, before shaking her head and smiling slightly, so sweetly. Azriel almost forgot that she had slaughtered a few dozen men a few hours ago.
He tried to reach out silently to catch her as she finally got to a distance where he knew he could grab her, so he could get more information out of her, about things she were clearly omitting, only to realise, that he couldn't move.
He looked up at her in horror as she continued smiling, almost as if it took her no effort restraining one of the strongest illyrians in history.
It didn't, Azriel realised.
"And so we trained. And I took so much pleasure in breaking the bones of men in illyrian camps as we raided them. Saved the women that wanted to leave, took them with us, back to our hideout, expanded it until it became a thriving community. We raided camps and bring people back, who can pick whatever they excel in and work in tandem. It is what I deserved when I had nothing. What they deserve." She smiled, pride shining in her eyes as she now dropped down to sit on a log in front of him, more interested in a white wildflower glowing in the moonlight instead of him.
"Say, Azriel, You're half illyrian, are you not?" She asked, her voice higher, lighter, mocking. "You trained in one of their camps, with your oh so righteous brothers, did you not?"
She did not wait for him to reply, knowing he couldn't. She made sure of it from her magic, taking away his ability to speak.
"You know it as well. Your brothers do too." Her voice was bitter as she plucked the flower. "And yet you choose to hide away in your pretty little city of starlight, ignoring the pain these women go through every day." She finally looked up at him, eyes shining with contempt. "You're just as bad as them." She hissed. "Why shouldn't I shred your wings like your people did to me? Speak, Shadowsinger, speak."
It took a moment for him to realise he could speak again.
Azriel was frustrated, he understood where she was coming from but he could feel his defensive nature for his family coming up. "Rhysand tries. He tries his best to do things for the girls there. There's new laws, there's change. It's happening but these things take time. We are nothing like them."
"You're illyrian, they're illyrian. You saw the suffering of the women there and chose to do nothing about it. You high lord may have put new rules in place, banning clipping of wings, and starting the training of girls. But you and I both know it still happens. All of you do." She shrugged, back to examining the flower. Her face was young still, and her body lithe, Azriel's heart felt a little heavy at the thought of her past, but the anger he felt at being this defenseless in front of a young fae overpowered that.
A dark growl escaped his lips as his jaw tensed, his voice was raspy when he finally continued. "We are trying our best to keep track of it, to eradicate such malpractices comple-"
He was cut off yet again, but this time her voice was louder.
"Well trying is not good enough!" She snapped. "You don't even know it when it happens. You're too busy going on fancy dinners with your inner circle. If you are so good at protecting illyrian women, where are my wings, Azriel?" She hissed as she looked into his eyes as if she was looking into his soul.
He froze at her question, his hazel eyes widening slightly. His jaw was still tense, and he tried to move his body again, failing to do so. He didn't say anything, choosing to remain silent. There was a hint of shame in his eyes as he looked away.
She scoffed as she looked away again as she dropped the flower and stood up again, dusting off her hands against each other.
"Thought so. Anyway," She cleared her throat, putting on a sickly sweet smile. "I am bored and tired of playing with you now. Scurry off, like the dog that you are and tell your high lord I said Hi. I am sure a very interesting gossip session awaits the inner circle tonight." She finished, the end of her sentence blended with yawn that had her stretching her taut muscles as she freed him from her magic and disappeared before he could even get used to the control he now had over his body again.
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sapchat · 1 month
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Ways to add simple little details to Prythian in your stories!
For the Autumn Court this one is basic and many people use it: Males gift their fiancées, wives, mates fox kits as a symbol of their love and good luck with the relationship. To make it sadder, Beron never did this for Lady A, so when Eris found out about this tradition he got his mom one!
For the Dawn Court: Like how the night court Illyrians put the women down, what if the Dawn Court was the opposite and the Peregryn females would put the males down. In the real world male birds are held to a high standard for breeding, I feel like Peregryn instincts would cause this and it just gives more to a story than the females constantly being the abused. Also they’re stomach/side sleepers. I talk more about this below with the night court just to not repeat myself.
Day Court is full of bastards. You can NOT convince me that it isn’t. Helion is laying the fucking pipe like he’s discovered oil. And the reason I feel this is because of @florencemtrash ‘s story “The Shadow and the Inkbird” (also it’s really good go read it if you haven’t) where the MFC is Helions bastard, and meets Lucien and instantly realizes that they’re halfsiblings. And I was like ya know the Day Court is probably like Game of Thrones Dorne. Dorne is know for their bastards almost every persons name in that city is ‘Sand’ because they’re all bastards basically. So I just KNOW that Helion probably has other kids than just Lucien. And everyone in that court is fucking.
Summer Court has mermaids. It’s basic, it’s simple and it’s true. There’s mermaids.
Night Court, listen we already now a lot about the Nigh Court but this pertains to Illyrian’s so I feel it’s different. They’re stomach/side sleepers. They are. You can’t tell me that two massive wing sticking out of your back would allow you to lay on your back. It can’t be comfortable. Like have you ever tried sleeping with like a ponytail/claw clip in? It ain’t nice. Now imagine it with two that sit right beside your shoulder blades and the clips are like 3ft long? Idk how long the base would be but like probably pretty fucking long to allow actual flight capabilities. Also when they sleep on their side they just have their wings straight out, now like laying on one and the other out. They’ve got big ass beds for a reason spread out. (Cassian fully takes up a bed like star fish style just on his stomach. Nesta is sick of it.)
Spring Court, during the Spring Equinox the High Lord chooses someone to dress up and hand out spring gifts to family’s (usually kids). When Tamlin became High Lord he appointed himself to do so. During this time Tamlin also gives many of the less fortunate families something they can later use for the Tithe.
Winter Court puts on a celebration for the children called Three Kings Day. Family’s with children are welcomed to the castle(? Do they have castles…?) and the bakers leave a cake outside the doors of the family, inside the cakes (this is a real thing from Puerto Rico/France/Spain too btw, the cake is called la galette des rois (Kings Cake)) are toys/coins. Whichever children find them get to wear a crown for the day and called Kings/Queens (Kallias started the tradition that all kids get to do this, he’s a softy).
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marshmellowrio · 2 months
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Flight of the Night | Chapter 1
A/N: I've been thinking about writing a fanfic on ACOTAR for a while now and I finished my first chapter so here it is, I hope you like it.
Word count: 648
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We approach the door as a unit, the two males at either side of me. Cassian bangs on the door as I see Rhys’ silhouette next to a smaller, frailer form. “Hurry up, you lazy ass,” Cassian drawls from beside me and I bump his shoulder to get him to lay off. He shoots me a look that promises anything but that. He lifts his hand again and continues pounding on the door.
“If you’re going to pick a fight with him, do it after breakfast.” Azriel’s smooth voice murmurs over my head to Cassian.
“I wasn’t the one who hauled me out of bed just now to fly down here,” he retaliates. “Busybody.” I growl low in my throat, not liking the memory of this morning.
Rhys starts explaining the rules of the townhouse to, who I assume to be, Feyre. “-those three in the antechamber might not be on that list of people you should bother knowing if they keep banging on the door like children.”
Cassian pounds on the door once again, “You know we can hear you, prick.”
I sigh deciding to get involved. “I didn’t face Cass’ wrath this morning to stand in front of a locked door, Rhys!”
“Secondly,” he just keeps talking, “in regard to the two bastards and lovely female at my door, it’s up to you whether you want to meet them now, or head upstairs like a wise person, since you’re still looking a little peaky, and then change into city-appropriate clothing while I beat the hell out of one of them for talking to his High Lord like that.”
I shift on my feet, hoping she makes a decision soon, at last she says, “Just come get me when they’re gone.”
I feel her presence before she announces herself and I step aside, closer to Cassian, letting her pass me with a nod. “You Illyrians are worse than cats yowling to be let in the back door.” She grips the doorhandle and sighs when it doesn’t budge. “Really, Rhysand? You locked us out?” My eyebrows raise in amusement, did she really think we’d wait out here for no reason.
I hear soft footsteps receding and the door to the townhouse opens not long after. Cassian all but stumbles inside and I chuckle at his antics.
“Welcome home, bastard.” The broad male greets Rhys with a sheepish grin.
Azriel steps through the door after Amren. “I sensed you were back. Mor filled me in, but I-”
Amren interrupts him, stepping forward. “Send your dogs out in the yard to play, Rhysand. You and I have matters to discuss.”
“As do I.”
I don’t bother hiding my grin as Rhys finds my eyes, still standing in the threshold of the door.
As I step inside and close the door, Cassian drawls to Amren, “We were here first. Wait your turn, Tiny Ancient One.”
I pass by them as Amren snarls, wandering further into the house not missing the warning look Rhysand throws to the stairs and then to me. Daring me to venture upstairs to where I know Feyre will be.
“Why is everyone here so early? I thought we were meeting tonight at the House.” I beam at Mor, engulfing her in a hug and turn back to the others.
“Trust me, there’s no party. Only a massacre, if Cassian doesn’t shut his mouth.” Rhys grumbles.
“We’re hungry,” Cassian complains like the big baby he is. “Feed us. Someone told me there’d be breakfast.”
“Pathetic,” Amren quips. “You idiots are pathetic.”
Mor says, “We know that’s true. But is there food?”
Rhys turns with a sigh and moves to the dining room, expecting us to follow his lead. Mor and Cassian follow him without further ado. I chuckle at Amren’s astonished face and throw an arm over her shoulder to lead her to the dining room as well.
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A/N: The following chapters will likely be longer, as soon as I figure out how to integrate my OC more into the story. Let me know how you liked it!
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climbthemountain2020 · 2 months
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WIP Wednesday - Flame of Autumn
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We are in our final weeks of posting Hope of Spring, then it's Flame of Autumn time!
Eris x OC, arranged marriage, allies to lovers
Eris was thinking about cleaving a man’s head in two with a sword. He was thinking about the reek of death on a battlefield–blood and gore and piss and shit. Eris was thinking about the horrible fungus mushrooms that bloomed on the edges of the marshier woods of Autumn that stank like a decaying corpse and ruined the scenery for miles each year. 
Eris was thinking every ugly thought so that he wouldn’t become a complete and total animal at the prospect of holding Tilly’s hand. His face betrayed nothing, his breath was steeled into controlled, even breaths, but his mind was absolutely racing. He knew the second he let himself think about the brush of her warm hands against his skin, the small, almost delicate, calluses of her fingertips brushing his,  it wouldn’t be possible to hide his scent from her. 
She had grabbed his hand with such ease, as though they’d sat and done this every night of their lives, and he’d just about swallowed his own tongue with the shock of it all. Every time she touched him, even in passing, he felt like his stomach would leap forth from his throat, but this sustained, gentle holding was a new torture of the most pleasant design. He struggled to swallow, even to keep his eyes, unfocused as they were, in the general direction of his book. 
Deep breaths. In. Out. What sort of youngling was this reducing him to?
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months
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Exile.
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a/n I cried so hard I had to write something so here we are. So,I guess I'm inviting you to come cry with me. 🫧
warning: just sadness
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The heaviest thing that weighed on Azriel's chest was that he couldn't find a turning point that changed it all. A breaking point that shattered a perfect picture. That started to pull apart the only thing he thought was unbreakable in this world.
You had been his everything ever since Rhys's mother had taken both Azriel and Cassian under her wing. He still remembered you peeking from behind your mother's dress. Big, purple eyes staring at him. As big and as scared as his. As skittish and nervous as him. You two had observed each other for weeks. Running away the moment your eyes met. Where Cassian and Rhys had been loud and obnoxious. You and Azriel had always been quiet and observant.
Then one evening, you showed up at Azriel's favorite corner of the cabin. One that he had claimed as his. Often sitting there all alone in the shadows. Legs up to his chest as he watched everyone else. And no one ever invaded that space. Until that evening, when you had rounded the corner with a bowl of freshly baked cookies and a glass of milk, you splashed some of it as you walked. Your tongue slightly poked out as you concentrated on your task. Then that bowl was on the floor, right in front of Azriel. Your chest heaved as you took short, labored breaths. For a moment, Azriel had been too stunned to even move because no one had ever brought him anything. If people came to him, it was to hurt him, not to be kind.
Like a beaten puppy, he slowly crawled out of the dark corner. His eyes never left you as you two stared each other down. His scared fingers reached for the cookies. The warmth of them settled into his palm. He felt his heart hammering against his ribcage, yet he still extended his left hand to you. Offering you one of the cookies to share. Your shaky finger followed Azriel's movements until you both stood there on the dim back side of the cabin.
Loving you after that came easy. When his mind spiraled, all Azriel needed was to see you. When he felt like he couldn't breathe, all he needed was to look at your purple eyes, which never failed to remind him of the pure irises that bloomed in late spring. He saw you everywhere and in everything. And you were his in so many ways. You had searched and put together every single broken piece of his soul. Rebuilding him into a man with your slow and gentle love.
The night when the carriage with you and your mother was attacked, Azriel thought that he was going to lay down and die alongside you. Rhys didn't ask for Azriel to come. But he didn't have to. The spymaster was driven by the force of need and fear that ran through him like venom. No matter how many interrogations and battles he had been in after that, nothing compared to the vicious slaughter he unleashed that night alongside Rhys and his father. Back then, it had been the first time Azriel had killed. But it didn't weigh on him like he thought it would. All he wanted was to bring them back so he could slaughter them once again.
You. It was you and nothing else for Azriel after that. No more whispers of secrets. No more sneaking around. No more late-night snacks on the rooftop, so no one would hear you. Azriel wanted to love you loudly. To know that there wasn't a part of you that didn't belong to him. That wasn't his. And as he spun you around in your white dress, with irises in your hair, as your laughter echoed and filled his chest, he was sure that he had found his forever.
But now here he was. On the same old balcony. On the longest night of the year, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hand. Watching as Lucien of all people spun you around. Pulling a laugh after a laugh from you. A sound Azriel hasn't heard for months. And that sound had always been his to claim; now all he got were scowls and angry head shakes.
"If looks could kill, brother..." Cassian tried to bump Azriel's shoulder gently, but the spymaster's eyes didn't leave you even for a second. "It's good to see her like that," Cassian sighed, throwing another dagger straight into Azriel's heart because the whole family had been aware that something wasn't right. After almost four hundred years together, you two had come crashing down the rocky shore. "You'll figure it out, Az. Don't beat yourself...", Cassian had started, but Azriel wasn't going to sit here like a fool. So, with a harsh slam of his glass, he pushed past Cassian without a second glance.
You're not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
I think I've seen this film before...
Oh, how easy it had been to love him. To do it all for him. You had built your world around his broken heart. Carefully helping him stand on his shaky feet. It was the hidden parts of Azriel that you loved the most. Azriel, who put notes in the books you were reading, so that at a certain point, with you flipping through it, you would come across a folded piece of paper that read, "Never loved anyone as much as I love you. Your smile alone leaves me defenseless, my little terror."
You had kept them all. You still had them in a wooden box at the bottom of the closet. Every letter that Azriel had even written. Every note. Every dried flower. You bathed in that soft side of him that was only for you. With him rushing home to you so you could eat your dinner together and talk. Talk for hours until a comfortable silence would fall, and you two would find yourself in bed together, cuddling against one another as you read books in silence. Or Azriel read parts of his book to you.
A lifetime with him seemed too short at one point. Until it didn't. You had an inkling that something was changing the moment your brother brought Feyre home. That same night, you had woken up, drenched in sweat. Gasping like a fish frown on shore, with Azriel grasping at your hands. "It's fading," you breathed out, clawing at your chest till you drew blood with your nails. "My love," Azriel breathed, pulling your trembling body closer, "Breath with me." But all you did was shake your head and say, "It's flickering away." You grasped at him for dear life back then. And maybe you should have held on tighter. Maybe you should have sunk your nails into him. But your mother had raised you differently, and you weren't going to settle for scraps.
You'd like to believe that you knew that she was going to take Azriel away before even they did. Because Azriel had always been a savior. A fixer. An answer to the cries of the wrong soul, and oh, did she cry... Helpless little lamb in disguise. So when Azriel started smelling of her, you didn't even hear your heartbreak. You had tried bringing it up. Tried to get him to see, but the prettiest of flowers were often poisonous.
"All I'm asking is for an evening with my mate, with my husband." Your voice bounced off the walls as yet another fight rippled through the house that always felt cold now. "We had dinner last week," Azriel said blandly, buttoning up one of your favorite shirts. "And to think we had date nights every other day," you chuckled bitterly. "We are not kids anymore, Y/N," Azriel bit back, making you glare at him even more. "Oh, so love is now for children. Good to know that you had put an expiration date on this, Azriel", you said, tossing the kitchen towel you were holding to the side, "It would have been nice if you had informed me about it."
"See, this is why I hate being here." His voice roared back, making you take a step back. You fought many times. But you were always the firecracker. The terror. Azriel's composure never let him cross a line. But this. "You and your nagging drilling," he tapped against his temple angrily. "Not everything is about you. For once, give some thought to other people's needs."You had only blinked at him then. Watched him slowly dress up before he walked out of the door with a loud bang.
"A dance?", you blinked, nearly knocking your glass over as you flinched, but the person in front of you was quick to catch the delicate glass. "Apologies; I had no intention to startle you so much; I didn't think you were that deep in your thoughts." A familiar gaze warmed your soul. "Drop the formalities, Lucien," you chuckled softly. "I will if you will come to dance with me; it's a crime to sit through Starfall," Lucien once again extended his hand to you, and with a light shake of your head, you let him pull you up.
The music was rather lively, one you would come across at the city fair during a festival. But Rhys had always liked his tunes wild when he was happy. And your brother was more than happy. "Eris is convinced that I have two left feet," Lucien muttered as his arm wrapped around your waist, "So if this ends in distress, please keep my shame with you." His words made the corners of your lips tug upward as you chuckled lightly. "I would never cause you such disgrace, emissary," Lucien simply smiled at you before twirling you around.
At first, it was a bitter dig to seek out Lucien. A venomous desire to sting Azriel with his poison. You had come back so proud that night, knowing that after a day of horse reading with Lucien, his smell would have been all over you. And it was. And Azriel had stalled the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes grew dark before he angrily undid his cloak, tossing it to the side.
"What was Lucien doing here?", his voice was low and bitter, but all it did was make you smile. "Who said he was here?", you muttered, continuing to flip through your book. You didn't need to see him to know that he was scowling at you. "Why is his scent all over you, Y/N?" You knew now that it was a desperate attempt to grasp the last bits of his love and attention for you and what you were doing was a pathetic desire to catch one more glimpse of his care. "I took your advice. Listened to others' needs", you said with a smirk. Azriel's hands were on you in an instant. Grasping your forearms as he pulled you up, your book clattered to the floor. "What fucking games are you playing?", Azriel said through gritted teeth as you pushed back against his chest, only to make his grip tighter. "You hypocritical bastard. So you can whore yourself out, and I'm just supposed to watch you!" You barked out, the magic you shared with your brother sizzling beneath your skin, roaring to explode around you if needed. "I'm helping her get settled," Azriel growled, letting go of your arms once the darkness around you two grew thicker. "On your dick is where you're settling her," you snarled. You wanted. Waited. For him to deny it. To explode with shouts about your accusations. But he simply shook his head before winnowing away. Oh, how you had ragged that night. Smashing every vase. Every frame that you could reach. Cursing him in all the languages you knew before collapsing to your knees in soul-ranching sobs.
"I've lost you once more," Lucien's soft voice brought you back. You had lost track of the time you two had been swaying. "I'm starting to believe that I'm an awful company," he chuckled under his breath. "No, no, Lucien, you couldn't be further away from that," you reassured him, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder. "Does this have something to do with your husband plotting my death the whole night?", your head instantly turned to Azriel. As if in second nature. You didn't even need to think about it. You always found him in the crowd. And sure enough, his deathly glare was pinned on you two.
It twisted your guts because there had been a time when that look would have sent you to your knees. To know that he was ready to fight for you. Ready to tear down cities. To get his knuckles bloody for you. Now it just left a bitter taste in your mouth. And it felt like a mockery at best. He had lost his claim to you months ago. "I'm sorry," you muttered, ready to apologize on Azriel's behalf, but suddenly your voice died down. Because all of these weeks it had been you, patching up that broken image of you two. Glossing over the flaws so that your family will not see anything. So that no one would need to worry. So that no one would see just how broken you had been.
A loud bang of glass hitting the table was the last straw for you. You flinched as your eyes shut. Angry tears fell on Lucien's deep green tunic. But you refused to let anyone else see you like this. "Y/n," Lucien muttered, "If this is because of my doing," but you quickly shook your head. Pleading eyes looked up at him, and for the first time, the shock on Lucien's face was enough to make a quiet sob escape past your lips. As the mask you had been wearing for weeks finally slipped. "Please," you breathed, "Help me; I can't do this anymore." Lucien's hand quickly cupped the back of your head as he pressed your trembling frame closer to his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly beneath your ear. "I've got you. It'll be okay", he muttered quietly, looking around for anyone who had spotted the scene that had unfolded. "Come on," Lucien muttered after a moment, "Give me your hand."
It was way past the end of Starfall when Azriel walked through the front door. He was exhausted. That type of exhaustioned that seeped into your bones. That made your body ache. That made that permanent feeling of coldness linger deep within. One you couldn't chase away, no matter what. Undoing a couple of the buttons on his black shirt, Azriel stepped deeper into the house. Into a too quiet of a house.
"Y/n," Azriel's voice echoed through the living room. He knew it was way too late to be shouting like that, but this unsettling dread pulled at his chest. "Y/n," he called out once more, hoping to hear you angrily striding to yell back at him, but he heard nothing. Not a single rustle of the sheets. Not the sound of your feet tapping against the wooden floor.
Azriel was about to angrily march up the stairs himself. To beg for you to scream at him if he had to because this silence that he sat in for hours in the house of wind had him running in loopholes that were near to suffering him. But his eyes fell on something glistening on the living room table. The only thing still shining in this dim place. The spymaster took a couple of quick steps toward it. A sick and sour feeling spread through his stomach. Almost sending him backward. There was no way. There absolutely could not be a way. Azriel's hand reached for a light blue diamond ring that had been a part of his heart for so long. But there was no way because you had it on your finger tonight. He had seen it tonight. And if you weren't here, and if the ring was. Azriel swallowed thickly, cold sweat coating his hands and face. You wouldn't have just taken it off here and forgotten it, unless...
I'm not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
I think I've seen this film before
So I'm leaving out the side door...
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artethyst · 2 months
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~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! Reader/OC
“Lucien,” Eris growled, stalking over to his sobbing and heavily pregnant mate, his brother could only stand there awkwardly, in a fruitless attempt to soothe her.
“I swear I had no part in this!” The Emissary raised his hands in mock surrender as his sister in law continued to cry, unrelenting tears spilling down her pale cheeks.
Eris sighed, and whilst he wished she would stay inside like the Healers had recommended, he couldn’t deny her anything.
His only request was that his brother chaperone her should she feel restless, especially if he happened to be caught up in meetings he was unable to be in absence of.
Eris gently removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, overly paranoid that she would catch a chill in her weakened state and ignored the way Lucien rolled his eyes at his brother’s worrying.
Lucien knew, beneath everything, the feared High Lord of Autumn was nothing but a softie. A mama’s boy who would do anything for his wife should she merely ask of it.
He was certain Eris would have surrendered even his own crown- the one he had spent centuries suffering for, if it meant she was happy.
“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lucien was almost just as panicked, knowing whatever was wrong he’d surely be blamed for it.
“Well, we both know how successful you are with the ladies,” Eris drawled and Lucien snarled at the reference to his own mate. “My work is done for the day, you may leave.”
Lucien bowed and sent one lasting gaze at the two of them, admittedly unnerved by her frantic state.
Until recently he had never seen her cry in the many years of knowing her, and whilst he would never admit it out loud, she had always been his favourite member of the Inner Circle.
“My love,” Eris soothed her by playing with her hair, she had found solace against his hard chest as she let out small gasps, taking comfort in his scent as he provided comforting waves of love down the bond. “Tell me, what is making you so upset, hmm?”
His words held no taunt as she sniffled, and he would never tell her that he found it rather endearing how she looked- so vulnerable with her cheeks aflame and violet eyes glossy.
“T-That hawk!” She whimpered, a shaky hand moving to point at the tree before them, and only he could’ve understood her choked out words as they were sobbed into him. “I-It pushed a p-poor baby b-bird out of i-its nest a-and-“ the next part was too horrific for her to say and she cried harder as Eris sighed, stroking the back of her neck.
Oh, for anyone to see her now.
The Crown Princess of the Night Court, feared magic wielder who helped slaughter many in the war and High Lady of Autumn, brought to tears- over a baby bird.
He supposed it had something to do with the little flame growing in her stomach.
“E-Eri I want you to kill it,” the soft tone of her voice betrayed its sentiment as he paused his ministrations for a moment, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Make it p-pay for s-slaughtering that d-defenceless creature!”
He withheld a chuckle at the irony of her demand, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head before adjusting their position so her back was flush against his front.
His chin grazed her scalp as he effortlessly flicked his hand, the unassuming hawk turning to ash in an instant as she watched in satisfaction.
No matter how silly, trivial or frivolous her demand, he would always comply.
“Better now my love?” He crooned as she became giddy, throwing her arms around his neck as he breathed in her scent- a sickly sweet smell of a youngling mixed with his own.
It brought a new possessiveness- pride within him to know she now carried his smell with her, a subtle hint of spice and ember imbedded in her natural twinge of jasmine.
He felt her heart soar as she tugged against his own through the bond, her soft cheek nuzzling against his rough hand which came to gently rub at her damp skin.
“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled, as he unwittingly melted at her words, thinking he might never get used to the love she had shown him- insisted that he deserved.
“You saw me this morning Bunny,” he teased as she pouted.
“That was hours ago!” She insisted guiding his calloused palm to her slightly protruding stomach. “I need you…We need you.”
He couldn’t help a genuine smile overtaking his wry smirk, feeling the life they created flicker beneath their joined hands.
“It seems our little ember agrees,” he mused and despite his biting fear of her upcoming labour, as everyone knew- Fae births were not only extremely rare, but horrifically dangerous, despite it all he was happy.
Despite what having a child would mean, a new threat to him he had no doubt people would take advantage of, he couldn’t help but feel at peace too.
At peace with himself. At peace with his mate and their unborn baby which would soon complete their little makeshift family.
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readychilledwine · 17 days
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Matching Wounds
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Summary - The first High Lord's meeting after the war with Hybern brings some old memories up that Lyria and Rhys would have rather forgotten, leaving their mates to try to patch together wounds they can't see.
Warnings - degrading language, asshole brothers, hinting to PTSD without getting into full signs and symptoms
Prompt - Day 2 - Comfort
A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I've been asked about Lyria and Rhysand's dynamic as well as Azriel and Feyre's, and I felt today was a good day to give a preview into it, and into what Olive Branch will focus on, which is the comfort Rhys and Lyria found in each other UTM.
This is a non-sex based swinging dynamic. Rhysand is more of a secondary romantic partner to strictly Lyria, as Azriel is with Feyre, which is vastly different than the relationship we see in Fours Company between Lyria, Az, and Nessian.
💙 Meet Lyria Here 💙
✨️ Poly+ACOTAR Masterlist ✨️
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There was a reason Rhysand had promised Lyria she would never attend a High Lord's meeting. She was clinging to him in his bed now as Feyre and Azriel just watched. Heavy sobs had turned into small sniffles as Rhys stared at the wall, eyes lost and hand moving absentmindedly along her exposed spine. 
Feyre had only gotten to see Lyria once under the mountain and now she knew why, “Rhysand's whore,” the term had been spat at her by her own older brother before he did truly spit at her feet. “Rhysand's Whore,” who had been trapped in his room. Wasting her days away in the same style of dresses Feyre wore, sitting on his lap the nights Feyre wasn't. 
It was ironic, really. The four of them, Eris, and Lucien all knew Rhysand never touched Lyria, never laid a finger on her skin until they had agreed to this, yet to the outside world, Rhys had already had her in ways Lyria had never experienced. 
Feyre knew from the bond that Rhysand was lost in his own mind as well. Lost in the regret he felt. Lost in the images of different red hair, paler skin, and dead eyes. 
“Ideas?” She whispered softly to Azriel. 
“Dinner and leaving them be,” his scarred hand still held Feyre's perfect one. “It's all we can offer them. You and I do not know what happened to them fully. We do not know what brought them together. We just know Rhys refused to be away from her and brought her here once you freed everyone.”
“Do you want to fly to the bakery they love and pick up dinner with me?”
Azriel rose a brow before kissing her tattooed hand. “Of course.”
Rhysand felt himself clinging to Lyria. Clinging to the soft fabric of her dress, clinging in her textured hair, clinging to the scent of her skin. He loves Feyre. Loves her so dearly and completely, but the comfort he found in Lyria was unmatched. 
She had been there during his darkest nights, whispering how she saw him, how she knew him beyond that mask he wore. 
And now she was paying the price for being his comfort. “Rhysand's whore,” the name replayed itself in his mind over and over. He had watched it land on Lyria. Watched the light in her eyes flicker, watched her shrink into herself, watched her push Azriel, Nesta, and Cassian away.
But she clinged to him. The same way he did her. She wanted him, but she waited until they were home. Amarantha's whore and Rhysand's whore. What a fucking pair, he thought bitterly. 
Lyria had her head buried in Rhysand's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling it wash over her. She thought nothing of it as he laid them back, running fingers through her hair. “Our mates went out.” 
She nodded, feeling his warmth as his head turned to hers. “They shouldn't miss date night because you and I are sad.” 
Rhys simply hummed, hand going to the hair at the back of her head and tilting her face up toward his. “No, no, they should not.” Rhys continued to massage her scalp as whiskey eyes held his. “You know nothing they said was true, right?”
“It does not make it hurt any less. Even if my brother was just saying it as a mask. It also doesn't make those memories of that place go away.”
Rhys understood all too well, pulling her impossibly closer. “I'm sorry I could not protect you soon.”
A soft kiss hit his jawline. “And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.” 
“He doesn't need protection. Big bad illyrian baby,” Feyre's voice was sarcastic as she and Azriel came back to the room, bags of food in hand. “We are going to leave you two alone, but we brought you your favorites.”
“Why leave?” Rhys rose a single brow, but refused to look away from Lyria. “We Should all eat together. Be together.”
Azriel looked to Feyre, the two of them communicating silently. “We can feel you two wanting to be alone. We're offering that.”
Lyria sighed. “Sometimes wanting to be alone isn't the best answer. Stay. We can all take comfort in each other and all help each other get our minds off what happened.” Azriel looked to Feyre caving as he walked her over to the couches. “Come on, mister High Lord.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he was pulled over, Lyria sitting beside him as Azriel sat beside Feyre. Silence was between the four of them, relishing in the safety and comfort of each other. 
“So, is no-one going to talk about it?” Lyria's face grew into an all too familiar snake-like grin. “Surely you all saw the absolute monstrosity of an outfit father was wearing.”
Azriel smirked at his mate, “Gossip.”
“Learned it from you,” she turned to Feyre. “And you.” She kissed Rhysand's cheek, “And most definitely from you. Now talk about my family with me to make me feel better.”
“The little things make you happy, don't they, darling?” Rhys turned her jaw. “Such a simply pretty girl.”
Feyre's eyes lit up. “The prettiest girl.”
“My pretty girl,” Azriel reminded them. 
“Our pretty girl.” Rhysand and Feyre both said.
“Our pretty girl who deserves all the affection tonight,” Feyre continued. “Maybe she and I will run away and you two can brood and compare shadows.”
Azriel took his turn choking before laughing. “We don't brood all the time.”
“Yes you do.”
Lyria leaned into Rhysand's shoulder, feeling lighter from the distraction. I love you, he sent into her mind. We all love you. You are safe here.
So are you, she reminded him. You are safe and loved, too. This is a good distraction. They are stunning together.
It is, and they are. She loves Azriel very much. By the way, it's not Beron's worst outfit to date. 
Lyria's eyes grew wide turning to Rhysand as Feyre and Azriel continued to agree playfully. “Show me?”
“Of course, darling.”
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prythianpages · 5 months
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A Court of Shadows & Moonlight | azriel x rhy’s sister (OC)
Summary: Fated together by The Mother, Valeria and Azriel are left to unravel the threads that tie their hearts while other forces are determined to keep them apart. sorry, i suck at summaries. i'll come up with a better one soon.
Warnings: there will be way more angst, some violence, some fluff and eventual smut down the line.
A/N: This is a story of Rhysand's sister, Valeria, and Azriel being mates. It takes place before the events of ACOTAR. I did write a collection of imagines that follow Valeria's childhood and early adulthood (masterlist is here.) You don't have to read it to be able to follow this but the last couple of imagines do provide further context for this series. this story will be roughly 20 parts.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
↠ Part One (coming soon)
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hellwantfuckme · 3 months
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happy birthday
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summary: she hates her birthday, but someway Azriel manages to make it better.
warnings: Mor being slightly annoying(?
author's note: hope this is not boring 😭
Something had woken her up, pulling her out of the dream that, just seconds before, she couldn't remember. Eclipse blinked, taking in her surroundings. Her cozy bedroom, the sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the wooden floor and miraculously only half of her white duvet-covered bed, not bothering her eyes. It must have been close to noon, an hour or two before, perhaps. The calm in the air of her home was something that made the corners of her lips curve ever so slightly. For some reason, she knew there was something lurking in the corners, something threatening to ruin her day. A reason, she didn't know what, for her to be upset. But as she looked out through the windows, with the white duvet over her and the clean sheets beneath her, she didn't care.
Two knocks on her front door sounded, ah, that was what had woken her. Before Eclipse could even consider not opening the door to whoever was bothering her, the sound of knuckles against her door grew more insistent, her muscles moved unconsciously, pulling her out of the comfort and warmth of her bed. A grimace settled on her lips as she rose and stretched the sleepy muscles in her arms above her head, realization hitting her.
Today was her birthday.
A weight settled on her shoulders almost instantly, Eclipse could feel every bit of cheer leaving her body, and she missed the warmth and comfort from moments ago. A hint of a migraine, a slight throbbing pain in her temples, appeared. Eclipse cursed mentally. But she still left her room, walked through the hallways and crossed the living room and kitchen until she reached the front door, and opened it to whoever wanted to deal with her bad mood.
The smell of roses and expensive perfume greeted her, along with a blonde mane and a simple red dress. The pain in her temples increased.
Mor. Morrigan. If possible, her bad mood became denser, and she didn't bother to hide the frown that settled on her face. Although she had to refrain from letting out the heaviest and most annoying sigh of her life.
Morrigan looked her up and down, from the oversized gray pants that hung from her hips, through the tight, stretchy fabric t-shirt she had used as pajamas, to her face, the clear bad mood. But her brown eyes returned to the pants, and her eyelids rose almost imperceptibly, the only sign of surprise she let show.
The pants belonged to Azriel. It wasn't a secret that Azriel had stayed over at her apartment more than once, although it had always been on the couch - Eclipse had been too fearful to invite him to her bed even just to sleep - and he had left some clothes behind. Morrigan had apparently recognized who they belonged to.
Eclipse clearly saw how Mor tuned her ear, trying to decipher if Azriel was there.
Her frown deepened, and Eclipse restrained the impulse to slam the door in her face right there. She forced herself to fill her lungs with air and release it, to calm down enough to speak to her without raising her voice.
"Do you want something?" her falsely cordial voice muttered.
Mor straightened up.
"Can I come in?"
Eclipse looked at her for a second, trying to understand if she had heard what she thought she had heard. But when she saw the doubt in Mor's eyes, she figured she had.
What would Morrigan be doing in her apartment at this hour? Eclipse didn't know. But she stepped aside to let her in.
Morrigan entered with hesitant steps, and she closed the door behind her.
Her birthday was cursed. The random day in the middle of the handful of March days must have been cursed by some god, and the insufferable blonde in her apartment right after waking up was proof. Eclipse wasn't superstitious (although she should be, considering that for the past two years her life had been a madness of magical cauldrons, Fae, and things that would have driven any logical follower, like herself, to madness).
Morrigan glanced around her house, at the open space filled with light. At the kitchen, which was the first space Eclipse walked into, with Mor behind her. Eclipse opened the cabinets, looking for coffee. The feeling of having let an intruder into her apartment was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Although it was a new feeling, only her cousins had entered her apartment, who she had known all her life, and Azriel. Although with Azriel, she had never felt even close to this.
Eclipse was sure that his scent was still on the couch, and in the left corner of the kitchen island, where he always leaned.
Eclipse refused to let her thoughts be consumed by him first thing in the morning.
"Your apartment is nice," Mor said, trying not to look too surprised.
"I guess. Call me crazy, but I have a feeling that you didn't come to give me your... opinion about my apartment."
Eclipse put the coffee maker on the stove and turned to look at Morrigan.
"No, I didn't come for that."
Eclipse raised her eyebrows, and her chin sank a little. "Yes, Mor, that's what I said." The sarcastic comment appeared in her mind, but she refrained from saying it. Morrigan quickly regained a certain composure, her shoulders tensing and standing at her full height, firm.
"I would like to know what your problem is with me."
Eclipse looked at Mor for a few seconds, then blinked.
"I don't have a problem with you."
"But you don't like me."
"I think I have the right for there to be people I don't like," Eclipse said, turning on her heel, the sound of the ready coffee filling her ears along with the smell of the room. Eclipse poured a generous amount of coffee into a cup.
"I want to know why," Eclipse found milk and then mixed it with the coffee. "Is it because of Azriel?"
Eclipse looked at Mor over her shoulder, her face with a grimace, as if she had just heard a terrible nonsense. What did Azriel have to do with anything right now?
"There doesn't have to be anyone in the middle for you to not like me, Mor. Get over it," Eclipse said with a sigh, ending the conversation.
"Five hundred years. He was in love with me for five hundred years," Eclipse didn't miss the somewhat... hurt, guilty tone in Mor's voice. But she didn't care, especially because the migraine persisted, gnawing at her.
"And you're telling me this because...?" she managed to say, exhaling air.
"I never reciprocated his feelings, Eclipse, if you're jealous..."
"Jealous!?"
Mor didn't respond. Eclipse took a breath, closed her eyes for just a second. She couldn't start the day and already be on edge.
"Look, Morrigan, I don't like you because I think you love attention, and the way you want that attention is almost toxic. But I don't even have a big problem against you, I just don't think we can be friends and as far as I know, I haven't done anything against you to assume that I hate you to death, or something like that," Eclipse looked at Morrigan again. "Whatever has... happened between you and Azriel is not my concern, and I don't care. In fact, I couldn't care less. What you just said is the biggest guess I've heard in two months, and believe me, I've heard many things this month.
Mor didn't take her eyes off her. For a moment, Eclipse thought she had seen at least a glimmer of understanding in Mor's eyes. But it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Silence hung between them for a moment.
"Rhysand wants to see you. He's at the Town House."
And Morrigan disappeared. She had used a portal, Eclipse supposed.
Eclipse stayed processing the situation for a second longer, observing the space where Mor had been a second ago.
"Me, jealous?" Eclipse murmured indignantly
And that's how her birthday was going.
Eclipse left Rhysand's office with a grimace of irritation on her face.
It's not that she didn't like Rhys, no, Rhys, her cousin's mate, she liked him a lot. But the High Lord of the Night Court was a being that Eclipse wanted to strangle to death and then kill herself. Because who gave him the right to decide what she did or didn't do? Why did she have to be just another piece in his chess game? He had put her between a rock and a hard place, and Eclipse detested him for it. Of course, Rhysand only decided to bring out his High Lord personality on the day she least needed to be crushed with orders and demands.
Eclipse hoped that the empathy she had lacked when they had been talking would appear now and forgive her for slamming the door of his office.
The generous amount of coffee was working against her now. She was on edge. Mor, Rhysand, and what would be next? And why the hell did this only happen on her birthday?
Eclipse was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice anyone in her path until she bumped into a hard chest, and the scent of cedar and mist filled her lungs. Eclipse muttered a curse and dodged the body without even giving it another look. She had to get out of there because she couldn't think of anything other than the frustration that was making her jaw clench because she needed something to calm the throbbing in her temples. But a firm hand took her arm, stopping her. Eclipse violently pulled her arm away, distancing herself from the contact.
"Don't touch me," she almost exclaimed, her voice harsh, exasperated.
Eclipse looked at the hand still on her arm, full of brutal scars, and he looked at it, too. It took a millisecond for Azriel to move away, putting both his hands behind his back. Eclipse blinked, her eyes finally rising to meet Azriel's. The realization of what she had said hit her, her own words repeating in her mind. And then the way he had hidden his hands behind his back, and the furrowed brow on his face. The way he had looked at her, a mix of negative emotions, instantly made her forget about anything else.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"Let it go."
One moment Azriel was there, and the next, the shadows had totally consumed him and he was no longer there.
Eclipse let out an exasperated sigh. Her hands found their way to her own face, her fingers kneading her temples.
She was late for work.
If it were possible, everything got worse. Her apartment was bought with the money of her cousin, Feyre. Such a generous amount that Eclipse wanted to vomit at the astronomically high sum that Feyre was willing to give her, although she only wanted a small apartment, to have her own space, not a mansion.
Feyre had insisted that she didn't have to pay her back. But deep down, Eclipse knew she would pay her back for everything. Eight years of poverty had left a bitter taste in Eclipse's mouth, just the thought of owing money to Feyre made her skin crawl.
So she worked. A terrible job, just a waitress in a busy tavern. Although it was much more than she could have dreamed of a few years ago, when all she could do to survive was hunt, it wasn't easy. Because there were days like these, when she had to clean the bathrooms. And then there were a series of men who asked for jug after jug of beer, until one accidentally pushed another and a fight started that left two broken chairs, a table, and a mess of beer and broken glass that, again, she had to clean up.
Eclipse walked through the streets of Velaris, clutching her coat that did little to protect her from the unexpected cold that was hitting Velaris that night. The last trace of winter, she supposed, and hoped it was. The streets were not very crowded, although she had dodged a few Fae with her quick pace.
When she passed by a bakery, she ignored every visible cake and sweet in the window. Sometimes, on her birthday, she would buy a cake. Only sometimes. And she would eat it alone, and have it for breakfast the next day.
Her cousins completely ignored the fact that she had a birthday. Sometimes, Eclipse wanted to believe that they did know it was her birthday, but perhaps, somehow, even if she hadn't told them directly, they knew that Eclipse didn't like that day at all and they decided to give her space. Other times, Eclipse was sure they had no idea.
Eclipse arrived at the apartment building where she lived quickly. She climbed the stairs to the top floor, and took the keys to her home out of her coat pocket.
She let muscle memory guide her. Coming home, taking off her shoes and coat, leaving the keys on the table just next to the door, going straight to the bathroom and filling the bathtub with warm water, stripping off the stench of stale beer and sweat. All of this with a blank mind, not thinking of anything else while exhaustion drilled her bones.
It wasn't until she went to get dressed, with the faint idea of wearing the most comfortable thing she had, and her hands found the black sweater that smelled of cedar and tranquility.
It was Azriel's. Eclipse contemplated it for a moment, the memory of their only meeting a few hours ago saddened her. She simply left the sweater where she had found it and put on another one.
There was nothing else to do, she thought, as she was finally ready to lie in bed and pretend to sleep forever. But two knocks on her front door echoed through the space.
Eclipse sighed. She wasn't even going to bother to open it. Whoever it was could wait until tomorrow. But they knocked on her door again, with an insistence that reminded her of Mor's this morning. She flexed her stiff muscles out of her bedroom, through her home to the front door and opened it. Eclipse recognized the figure in front of her, tall and muscular, before even looking at his face.
Azriel stood in front of her, a little basket in his right hand.
Eclipse blinked. He didn't seem particularly angry with her, his usually stoic expression replaced by a softer one. Shadows swirled around his figure, a rather fast movement, like a reflection of Azriel's insecurity. But the dark abnormalities disappeared in the air once they saw her, although one in particular moved towards his arm and Eclipse could feel the gentle caress on her palm, like a greeting. The feeling vanished seconds later.
Azriel looked her over, looking somewhat indecisive.
"Can I come in?" he asked, although he had been inside many times before.
Eclipse stepped aside, making room for him to enter. Azriel recognized the way and walked to the kitchen, placing the basket on the kitchen island. Eclipse followed closely after closing the door.
Azriel was facing away from her, taking out a strawberry cake from the basket.
"Hey, Azriel, about earlier..." started Eclipse, her arms crossing in a hesitant gesture. Azriel looked at her, expectant of what she had to say. And his gaze only made her sigh, running a hand over her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk to you like that or tell you not to touch me, I have no problem with that, really, it's just that Mor was here this morning and then I was with Rhys and everything is horrible today and it's my..."
"Birthday," Azriel continued for her.
Eclipse frowned, nodding briefly. Although Azriel spoke before she could draw any conclusions:
"Nesta told me. She said you didn't like this date and indirectly too directly said that your favorite cake is strawberry."
For a moment, Eclipse felt her heart skip a beat. Nesta, the same cousin who hadn't given her a congratulations in her entire life. Then they did remember.
"Nesta," Eclipse murmured, incredulous. "Nesta told you that?"
Azriel nodded gently, a playful glimmer danced between his irises seeing Eclipse's incredulity, standing meters away from him.
"Did she... tell you why I don't like it?"
"No. I didn't ask her."
"And have you... brought strawberry cake?"
"From the best bakery I know."
"Why?" was the first thing Eclipse could manage to say. "I was rude to you earlier."
"You deserve a happy birthday," Azriel said with such firmness and honesty that Eclipse wanted to believe him.
Eclipse blinked, but her body was moving before she could think. And in a moment, she was hugging Azriel. Her arms around his shoulders, and in another moment, his arms pressed her to his body without a second thought. Eclipse murmured a series of thank yous, Azriel let out a playful laugh, his hand rose and fell along her back. Eclipse wanted to melt right there, inhaling the scent of cedar and mist emanating from him.
Eclipse moved away a little, his grip on her loosened a bit, just minimally. And Eclipse pressed her lips against his cheek in a loud kiss.
When Eclipse stepped back, there was a silly smile on Azriel's lips and a slight blush on his cheeks.
"Happy Birthday, Eclipse."
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