#feyre x rhys x lucien

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#acotar #azriel #cassian #rhysand #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #tamlin #lucien vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #cassian x reader #books and reading #booktok #angst #azriel x cassian x reader

[utterlyotterlyx]

Moth To A Flame

Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.

Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round

Word Count - 4.1k

Based on this ask

Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.

Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.

Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.

That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.

You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.

Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.

It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.

Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.

Life hadn't always been so perfect.

You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.

Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.

The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.

A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.

Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.

Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.

Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.

All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.

Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.

Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.

Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.

Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.

Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"

Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."

Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.

"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.

You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.

Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"

"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."

The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.

It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.

In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.

During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.

He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.

Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.

It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.

"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."

"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."

Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.

Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.

And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.

"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.

Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."

Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."

Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.

Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.

"You know the money is ours right?"

Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.

Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.

Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.

"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.

Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."

The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.

"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.

The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.

Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.

You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.

"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.

To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.

On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.

Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.

"Az, I-"

"Keep going."

So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.

Y/N,

I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.

I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.

I am in love with you, Y/N.

When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.

I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.

Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.

I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.

You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.

You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.

Felt your longing and love flow through him.

Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.

You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.

The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.

"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.

"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."

Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"

"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."

"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."

Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.

There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.

Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.

Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"

The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.

Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."

"Say it again."

"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.

Authors Note

Got a little carried away but this has given me life x

I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?

Let me know x

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #mor acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #nesta x cassian #nesta #amren #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #rhys acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar fluff #azriel fluff #azriel fic

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR characters x reader, “We should see other people”

ᡣ𐭩 summary: you suggest meeting other people

ᡣ𐭩 warnings: some swearing

ᡣ𐭩 amara’s note: it’s been a while since i did text posts👀 i hope u guys like it💗

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #rhysand #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #cassian #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #cassian acotar #azriel x reader #high lord rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #azriel shadowsinger #cassian x reader #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #elain x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta x reader #feyre archeron x reader #feyre x reader

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

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

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one

summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.

🧚‍♀️

a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee

but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗

just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.

You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.

"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.

"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.

You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.

Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.

"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.

Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.

The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.

But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.

"You look more miserable than me,"

You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.

"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.

"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.

Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.

His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.

If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.

As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.

His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.

"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.

Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.

"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.

You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.

There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.

"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.

Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.

You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?

"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.

Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.

If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.

---

Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.

He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.

He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.

For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-

"-So what do you think Azriel?"

Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.

Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.

"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."

He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.

Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.

Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.

---

read [ part two ] here deariess <3

#angst acotar #acotar #enemies to lovers #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel acotar #acotar memes #jealous azriel #elain x lucien #elain archeron #feyre archeron #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #rhys x reader #morrigan

[feyreswaterybowels]

⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

# 1 Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡Part 1⟡Part 2⟡Part 3⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Centuries ago Rhys’ youngest sister was kidnapped by the High Lord of Spring instead of kill like their mother and sister. The high lord had wards placed on his court so she was unable to leave. Rhys has believed her to be dead this whole time. What happens when Feyre finds out who she is and swears to take her home.

Warnings/Tag: Takes place during ACOWAR. Implied past sexual assault. Fluffy romance. Feyre being besties with Rhy’s sister. Pet names (pretty girl, sweet girl, Princess (her title)

Authors Note: All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, appreciated and encouraged. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 2! Bold italics are mental communication regular italics are inner thoughts.

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I know who you are.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Feyre—

You’re Rhys' sister. He told me all about you while I was there. I…I have a plan. I’ll take you back with me when I go. I’ll take you home.

The hushed conversation with Feyre played on repeat in my head for days. She had trusted me enough to tell me she wasn’t really here for Tamlin, that it was a plot, a plan and she was going back to the Night Court. Back to Velaris and she was taking me with her—she was taking me home.

Home.

There was only one problem. Just one. The male lying in my bed. I turn away from the window to gaze at him lying there naked, golden skin glowing in the moonlight. A crown of red splayed around his head. Grooves and planes of lean muscles on display. Arms folded behind his head.

Gods, he’s beautiful.

I had yet to tell him of Feyre’s plan. I believed he wouldn’t tell Tamlin but at the same time…I wasn’t sure how safe his mind was with two other daemanti in the house. I could only protect his mind when I was with him. Plus, Tamlin was his best friend. His High Lord. If he knew of Feyre’s plan to leave…and everything else she told me and Tamlin found out, we could both be locked away again. Not only that, but if he found out Lucien knew? That couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let harm come to either of them.

I took in a deep breath, walking over to the bed, tucking my wings as I slowly crawled up that perfect body. Dipping my head and trailing my lips over that patch of hair that went down, down, down, breathing in the scent of him. Mm.

“And what exactly are you doing?” That deep voice rumbled. I looked up, a sly grin across his face, metal eye glowing in the dark as he took in the sight of me between high thighs as I licked my bottom lip.

“Who? Me?” I asked, sliding a hand up his thigh to grasp him in my hand, stroking him once.

“Yes you, Princess” He laughs, grabbing and pulling me up the bed, kissing me as he rolls us over. I can feel him hard and heavy between my legs and it makes me moan.

“Lucien,” His name falls from my lips as he presses our bodies together. “Don’t tease, I want you.”

“Don’t tease?” He scoffs, “Says the one who was about to wake me up with a pretty little mouth.”

His grin is feral and I can’t help but return it.

“Come on,” I spread my legs wider, letting him feel the wetness there, “I know you want it.”

“And she calls me the tease,” He mocks under his breath before kissing me, tongue sliding into my mouth.

My fingers tangle in those long fire locks. I moan when I feel the heat radiating from his body, I love when he does that. The heat always feels so good against my sensitive skin.

He grins at me again, pushing up onto his knees, towering over me. He grabs my thighs, spreading them out and looking over me and I let him. I always loved the way he looks at me, his beautiful scarred face showing every ounce of emotion he feels.

He reaches between his thigh, wrapping a strong fist around himself and I watch stroke for stroke as he watches me. I tug on that bond between us, watching as it seemingly tugs him closer though I know it was his own doing.

“So, beautiful, all laid out for me,” He groans and I open myself further for him. Stretching my wings out across the bed, arms above my head, legs still spread wide but using a foot to rub over his calf.

That does it for him. He swoops down, grabbing me around the waist to yank my hips up, lining himself up and filling me. I cry out his name, arching into that fullness, into that glorious stretch.

We move together heat and passion. It’s rough and loving and he’s got me falling over the edge in minutes. Then again. And again. He’d always been so good at getting me there. Doing everything to make sure I was pleasured properly.

Tonight was no different as he leans over me, slow, firm thrusts hitting exactly where I needed it as he mouthed at my wing, tongue tracing through the grooves, and one hand wrapped around my wrists above my head to hold me in place.

“Say my name, pretty girl” he says, heated kisses on my wing.

“Lucien,”

“Louder,” he growls.

“Lucien!”

“I want the whole house to hear you, sweet girl.” His tongue laves over a particularly sensitive spot and I’m gone again. Gushing over him and moaning his name loud enough that the whole house definitely heard it.

It’s not long after that his thrusts are slowing. He lets go of my hands so I can touch him, he always liked having my touch when he came. I grinned into our kiss as my hands ran over his body. His panting moans turning into grunted growls. He was so sexy like this. Covering me fully, hair falling around his face, teeth bared.

I reached up pushing his hair behind those pointed ears, thumb tracing over part of his scar before pulling him into a kiss that was more tongue than anything.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” I moaned into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Make me feel so good!”

“Yeah? Gonna cum in that pussy for you, pretty girl, then I'm gonna eat it out.”

That’s what did it for me, I tightened around him. He follows me over the edge a few thrust later with a growl of my name.

Then he’s slipping from my body and sliding down, kissing a trail to my centre, keeping true to his promise.

“Fuck,” He groaned, coming back up, sliding his tongue into my mouth to let me taste myself. Kissing me slow and sloppy. “So perfect. My pretty, perfect mate.”

Despite what we’d just done I blush at his words.

“My sweet handsome mate,” I whisper back, tumbing at the bottom of his scar again before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He holds me tight, arms wrapping around me as we catch our breath. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck breathing in his scent—organic, earthy and sweet. Perfect.

My eyes welled up when thoughts of leaving weave through my brain. This was my mate, I had built a life here with him. But I had been trapped in this house for so long that it wasn’t really life. I wanted to go home to Velaris. To my brother and our family. I could try to convince Lucien to go but that could put him in danger. I had almost lost him under the mountain, I could t go through that again. If I left first I could always seek him out later but to stay here when I had the opportunity to finally go home, when I had Feyre telling me she could break the wards binding me here. I couldn’t turn that down.

“My love, what’s wrong?” Lucien asks, pulling back to look at me. Our eyes meet as he wipes away my tears. “Talk to me.”

I sniffled. I felt like it was now or never. I either told him now or he would find out when I leave. I couldn’t do that to him though. It would break his heart to wake up one day and find me gone.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” He said, petting my hair.

“I don’t know if I can say it out loud,” I tell him, our eyes meeting.

“That’s okay, Princess” Lucien nods his head, concern written all over his face.

“You can’t tell Tamlin,” The crease between his brow deepens. “You can’t tell him, Lucien, please. Promise me.”

He watches me for a moment, confused and concerned but he nods. “I promise. I won’t tell him.”

“Feyre and Rhys’ bond wasn’t actually broken that day with Hybern. She’s has a plan to go back. She…she said she can break the wards that hold me here so I can— I can finally go home,” I tell him, his eyes widen but he doesn’t look entirely shocked at what I’ve told him.

“And I’m assuming you have the intention of going with her?” He asks, sadness tinged the words and the bond.

“I have to, Lucien. I haven’t seen Rhys in centuries. Centuries. And he thought I was dead the entire time until recently. I need to go home, I need to see him and the rest of our family,” I cried, hot tears sliding down my face. He grabs me, pulling me up and holding me. Stroking my hair and shushing me softly.

“You should go, Princess. You should go home,” He says, kissing my head. I pull back to look at him, searching his face.

“Come with me,” I whisper, grabbing his face. “You can come. You would love Velaris—”

“I can’t,” he cuts me of gently, stroking his knuckles down my cheek. “Not that I don’t want to. Fuck, it hurts just thinking about you being away from me but if the three of us disappear? Tamlin will flip shit.”

“And he won’t be able to get to us in Velaris,” I tell him, grabbing the hand caressing my cheek and holding it tightly. “We would be safe there, Lucien. We could have a life together, a real one. Our own place by the river I showed you. A proper mating ceremony. We’ve been talking about kids for a decade. We could happily and safely have them there.”

“I don’t know…” Lucien shakes his head and I can see the water lining his eye.

“Me and you, Lu. That’s what we always said. Me and you—”

“Always.” Lucien nodded, looking over my face. Taking in every detail like he was trying to remember what I looked like before I was even gone. “What if you go with Feyre and I come later? You have to go now, you’re right you can’t pass up this opportunity to go home. I understand that. But you can come back for me, right? I could help keep Tamlin away…for some time anyway.”

My tears break loose then as I sob against his neck.

“I know it’s the best option but I don’t want to leave you,” I cried, clinging to him as he pulled me into his lap, letting my wings cocoon around us.

“Sh, it’s gonna be okay, my love.” I feel his tears on my neck and my heart breaks.

It was right but it felt so wrong.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

“So you’re joining us after all?” comes Tamlins snarky comment as soon as I walk out of the manor. I roll my eyes, fluffing the ugly powder blue dress.

“Unfortunately,” I rolled my eyes at him, it was too early for his shit, but still smiled at Lucien when his arm wrapped around my waist, careful of my wings.

“You can stay here,” Tamlin retorted with an eye roll of his own. “That would be preferable.”

“Well my mate asked me to attend. As did my friend, even if you wish Feyre wasn’t my friend,” I sneered at him with a wicked grin.

“I would never say that,” Tamlin returned the sneer, baring his teeth at me.

“Play nice, Princess,” Lucien purrs through the bond.

“Not out loud anyway,” I gave a sweet smile. “You look beautiful,” I said, hugging Feyre and kissing her cheek before pulling Lucien away to our horses.

Lucien helped me onto my horse, a gorgeous black mare, her coat shining even in the darkness of morning—a gift from Lucien after I accepted the mating bond. I looked down at him with a smile, running my hand through his hair.

“You’re lucky I love you, I really don’t want to deal with Ianthe’s shit today,” I said, situating myself in the saddle.

“Ianthe’s shit is exactly why I asked you to come,” Lucien said, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “I appreciate you coming anyway, your presence will make it much more tolerable for me.”

“Yeah, I know, come on, let's get this over with,” I said, urging him to his own horse. “I’m ready to get today over with so I can get drunk and dance with you under the stars.”

Ugh, he looks so good. I thought as his head dropped back with a laugh before mounting his horse, dressed in autumn colors he stood out perfectly from everyone else wearing the hideously bright spring court colors. I’d be covered head to toe in Night Court black if it was allowed. I’d have loved to see the look on Ianthe’s face if I had shown up today in all black.

We set off soon after everyone had mounted their horses and there were already hundreds of fae crowded atop the hill when we arrived. I fought the urge to bare my teeth when I saw Ianthe’s gaze lingering on my mate as he dismounted his horse and strided to mine.

“Ignore it. She’s not worth your jealousy,” Lucien said as he reached for my hand, helping me from the saddle.

“I’m not jealous. I’m protective. I don’t like the way she looks at you,” I say, running my hands over the collar of his jacket. “Like she’ll drag you away to have her way with you whether you like it or not.”

“That’ll never happen, my love.”

“Damn right it won’t, I’d break her hands if she ever touches you,” I huff, as a feline smile crosses his lips.

“You’re sexy when you’re possessive,” He said, leaning down to kiss me, first my lips then my forehead before extending his arm to me to hold onto.

“You better make this up to me later,” I grumble, as I would much rather be back at the estate hiding in my room.

“Oh, I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” Lucien promised, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “slowly, with my tongue. Over and over.”

My body flushed knowing exactly how good he is with that wicked tongue. His gaze turns heated knowing exactly what I was thinking, feeling exactly what I was feeling.

“Lucien,” Tamlin calls from where he and Feyre are standing. I glance at those full lips one last time before he’s gently pulling me, guiding me away from our partially secluded spot. .

Jurian is at my other side suddenly walking with us as we trail behind Tamlin and Feyre—also linked by the arms and the Hybern Royals. I had seen the gleam in Feyre’s eye before she turned away, like a wolf getting ready to play with its prey. It made me giddy inside.

I couldn’t wait to witness her revenge.

We stopped walking when Tamlin and Feyre did, reaching Ianthe at her stupid altar as she offered them a singular nod of head. The Hybern twins shifted impatiently, Brannagh had made comments the night before how they didn’t bother with such things in Hybern—practically implying that soon we wouldn’t be bothering with it either. Smug little bitch.

“A blessed solstice to us all,” Ianthe called out to everyone around and I don’t roll my eyes the way I want to.

I stood there through an endless string of prayers and rituals, acolytes pouring sacred wine and the blessing of harvest goods. A lovely, rehearsed little number. Lucien was practically falling asleep between Feyre and I.

Ianthe lifted her wine and intoned “As the light is strongest today, let it drive out unwanted darkness. Let it banish the black stain of evil.” I sneered at her, I knew those words were directed at me. My brother. Feyre. Our home.

“She’s lucky my wine doesn’t end up in her pretty face,” I silently told Feyre, watching her expertly hide her grin with the wine chalice—her silent agreement.

“Would Princess Brannagh and Prince Dagdan do us the honor of imbibing this blessed wine?”

I shared a look with Feyre as the twins frowned at one another—the crowd murmuring behind us. But Feyre stepped aside, smiling a pretty smile and gesturing to the alter for the royals.

“Drink and let our new allies become friends,” Ianthe declared before they could refuse. “Drink and wash away the endless night of the year.”

The two daemanti surveyed their cups, most likely searching for any hint of poison. Feyre kept that smile on her face, I couldn’t extend that same faux courtesy when the prince looked my way. I didn’t care enough to put on the facade.

They each barely sipped the wine before trying to step away from the altar. Ianthe cooed at them like children, insisting they stay at the altar with her, to experience the ceremony at her side.

“I’m bored, Luc,” I grumbled to Lucien through the bond as Ianthe continued on with her praises and rituals. Eyes finding Lucien every now and then, looking away when I send her a death glare—lucky she doesn’t know who I really am.

“I’ll be over soon,” Lucien chuckles, pulling me into his side with an arm around my waist.

Finally, Tamlin was summoned over to light the candle for the souls lost this past year. This part bored me too. Those souls were gone; they didn’t need a candle lit to bring them back to the light. But just as I was starting to lose my patients the sky was finally filling with streaks of pink as Jurian was called forward to recite a prayer as well.

It left only Lucien and I standing with Feyre in the circle of grass, the altar and horizon in front of us and the crowd behind us. The look on Lucien’s face drew my attention as he scanned the area and I could help the crack of a smile when I noticed something out of place. A miniscule little detail no one else seemed to notice—except maybe now my mate.

I watched as Ianthe stepped toward the hill’s edge, her golden hair tumbling freely down her back as she lifted her arms to the sky. The chosen spot was intentional. Only that marker that told her where to stand wasn’t in the spot it had been in when we first arrived.

Golden rays of sunlight finally broke over the horizon. Light filled the world clear and strong. The murmurs started through the crowd. Cries of a name, not Ianthe’s but Feyre’s.

That gorgeous light had not filled and surrounded Ianthe but Feyre.

Ianthe seemed to be the last to notice, to see the sun was not blessing her but Feyre.

She glowed so brightly, brighter than what seemed natural for this occasion but I didn’t care to question why. She was beautiful—shining as if she were the star that hung above Ramiel.

“Curse breaker,” some murmured.

“Blessed,” others whispered.

Feyre's face was one of surprise and acceptance, though I knew it wasn’t genuine, those around us wouldn’t read it that way. They would only see what she allowed them too. The shock and bafflement of Tamlin and the Hybern twin’s faces was ever satisfying.

But Feyre didn’t look at them. She turned to Lucien and I, her light radiating so bright it was almost hard to keep that eye contact. A friend looking to another for help. She reached a hand to Lucien then to me.

I knew Ianthe had to be losing her shit behind us but I was too enchanted by my brother's mate. Yes, this was all a show, but Feyre was special.

I took her hand, watching Lucien do the same. Then we shared a look, lowering down to one knee, pressing her knuckles to our brow. I knew the crowd behind us had followed suit.

I had never kneeled for a high lord of the Spring Court. I was Princess of the Night Court. Heir of Velaris. Princess of Dreams. I knelt for no one—certainly not for anyone of the Spring Court. Not now, not ever.

I was not kneeling before Lady Feyre. Or Feyre Cursebreaker. I was kneeling for Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. Feyre that led Prythian from tyranny and darkness. Feyre that saved my mate and thousands of others under the mountain.

“My high lady,” I declared to her. The only person besides my brother I’d ever sworn fealty to.

I looked up at Feyre, our eyes meeting before she looked to Ianthe, smiling a sweet smile, one that transformed to show a bit of that wolf hiding beneath.

#Lucien vanserra the man you are🥵 #calling Lucien beautiful a lot bc…well because he is #no elcuien #nothing against the pairing #in fact I can ship anyone with just about anyone lol #but I don’t feel like writing around the pairing and prefer LuLu baby to be mated to Rhys’ sister 😊 #Lucien is just so 🤤 #Rhys sister and Feyre are gonna have the best relationship #acotar #acotar fanfiction #lucien vanssera x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #pro lucien vanserra #princess of dreams

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello everything is fine? I would like to make a request to Rhysand

Something where maybe Rhys, the reader, and the rest of the group were on a game night, and the reader and Rhys are obviously always paired up, and they almost always win, but then the rest of the group, maybe in another round , put the reader with someone else? and Rhys stays with Feyre, then the reader is dying of jealousy (the reader and Rhys are partners) and Rhys wins over the reader? But then when someone humiliates the reader, Rhys gets super angry and takes revenge on her?

Game night disaster

Rhysand x Reader

Warnings; angst, swearing.

Masterlist

Night had settled around Velaris and the house of wind couldn’t be more alive, it is Friday night and that translates into game night for your family. You were currently sitting on the ground in front of the couch and between your mate’s -Rhys’ legs. Amusement flashed in your eyes as you watched Nesta almost beating Cassian because he couldn’t explain the word written on his card making them lose a point. You and Rhys were on fire like usual leaving everyone more than 10 points behind.

“It’s unfair, you two always win. Game nights are becoming awfully boring.” Mor whined pointing at you and Rhys, and everyone nodded in agreement. “They probably have created a code that’s how they keep winning” Cassian exclaimed.

“Yeah right, you just can’t accept the fact that we are better than you” Rhys replied to him, his eyes flashing with mischief. He always liked to get under Cassian’s skin.

“I think we should change partners” Nesta spoke. You glanced around noticing how everyone seemed to agree so you just shrugged. You didn’t like the idea of competing against Rhysand, neither of you could stand losing and you knew that if one of you won and the other lost you would probably spend the rest of the night bickering. You didn’t have a choice though because if you disagreed it would look like you were indeed cheating.

Mor placed pieces of paper in a small bowl with all your names written on them and shook it. Then picking piece after piece she announced;

“Okay so Nesta with Azriel, Amren with Elain, Cassian with y/n, me with Lucien and Rhys with Feyre”

You didn’t even have the time to curse about being paired with Cassian who completely sucked at the game as you heard who Rhys was paired with. Not her. You thought. You didn’t have anything against Feyre, and deep down you knew that they are just friends, but you couldn’t stop thinking how she saved him from Amarantha while you were stuck in Velaris not able to leave the city to help him. He knew what would happen at the party and he warded the house so you couldn’t leave with him. You scratching the air between the doorframe and screaming at him to let you out, and him with a sad smile muttering “I love you” again and again until the darkness swallowed him, only when he was locked under the mountain you were able to exit the house. That was the last memory you had of him before everything that happened. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t try to exit Velaris to find him, but every time you were pushed back by the wards he placed before leaving. And one day… he returned because a human girl saved him, saved everyone. They share the same trauma. They even have a bargaining bond. Losing him to Feyre will always be your biggest fear.

“Y/n! Come here” Cassian’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You noticed that everyone had changed seats, and they were waiting for you to move next to Cassian, you glanced at Feyre who was sitting next to Rhysand on the couch -way too close for your liking. Rhys stretched to give you a kiss as you stood up, but you completely ignored him and crossed the room taking a seat next to Cassian. Rhys’ eyes stayed on you, a hurt expression on his face, you felt his talons caressing the shield around your mind and you added a second layer of adamant wall making him flinch. You could feel the anger slithering around your mating bond, and you shoved your jealousy down before blocking him from there too. Realization hit him and he only rolled his eyes.

Fine. You thought and turned your focus on the game.

Mor and Lucien guessed 4 cards, Amren and Elain 5.

It was your mate’s turn.

Rhys guessed 7 of the cards Feyre was explaining and she jumped on him hugging him tightly and squealing.

Cassian placed his hand on yours pulling your gaze from them, he offered you a comforting smile and gave you the cards, Nesta and Azriel were next and after them it was you and Cassian.

When Feyre removed herself from your mate’s lap, he didn’t dare to look at you, he just stared at his hands.

Nesta was able to guess 4 cards and then it was your turn.

“Okay..” you breathed and read the first card.

“Feyre threw this at Rhys” you started.

“Shoe” Cassian exclaimed, and everyone burst into laughter.

“You can find this in the winter court” “Uhm… Kallias” “It’s white”

“Oh I know…snow”

“yes yes… okay uhm flirty..” “Helion”

“YES, where are the Archeron sisters from” “Mortal lands” “Yesss, Lucien’s sexy brother” -Lucien choked on his wine. Rhysand scoffed. “Ew Eris” Cassian gagged.

“Uhm you and Nesta are…”

“MATES” “Oof okay uhm all Illyrians have them” “Wings?” “No you wear those” “Weapons?” “NO what else are you wearing” “TIME” Nesta shouted “You got six so that makes Rhys and Feyre tonight’s winners” “Leathers” you muttered and slapped Cassian on the back of his head.

Lucien clapped and said “Turns out Rhysand is the smart one, I always suspected it no offense y/n but you never seemed bright to me”

Silence.

You froze. Violet eyes snapped on you, you felt your face heating and your eyes watering.

A low growl filled the silence, power created by the darkest night filled the room making everyone shiver. “Say that again” Rhys’ voice was lethal, filled with rage and painful promises.

Lucien gulped, his eye wide as he stared at Rhys.

“If I remember correctly, you only guessed four cards so if six cards mean that y/n isn’t bright what does four make you?” Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on Lucien who was squirming on his seat. Everyone was staring wide-eyed, and no one dared to say anything. Rhys was absolutely terrifying especially when he got so mad.

“Answer me little fox” If him glaring was terrifying then the feline smile he now had on his face was out of this world. Poor Lucien was shaking.

“Rhys enough” you stood up and approached your mate. He got up and pushed you behind him.

“If you even look at her the wrong way, I will fucking scoop your only eye out and I will feed it to you. Now get the fuck out of my court”. And with that he pulled you out, his wings emerged from the darkness, and he pulled you in his arms shooting up.

The flight was silent, you didn’t know what to say so you decided to let him cool off, everything could wait until you were home.

Once you were in your home you hurried off to your shared bedroom, you needed a moment to pull your thoughts in order. You changed in one of your nightgowns and sat on the bed. You couldn’t believe what had happened in the last hours, how could a game night end up like this. With a deep breath you went back downstairs finding Rhys in the living room sitting on the armchair by the fireplace, a glass filled with whiskey in his hand. He was still fuming. You approached him and climbed on his lap nesting your face in his neck. His hand moved to the back of your head, and he started stroking your hair.

“I’m sorry” he muttered. “Why?” “I should’ve removed Feyre from my lap” he explained and kissed your head. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t get jealous of her… I know you love me” you whispered and nuzzled his neck harder. You wanted as much contact as you could get.

“No it’s not okay, if I saw you on another male’s lap I would fucking kill him...I will talk to Feyre.” he pulled you further onto him.

“Thank you… for everything” your voice was barely above a whisper as sleep was taking over.

“Anything for you sweetheart” he whispered leaving a soft kiss on your head.

You woke up the next morning in your bed, Rhys was spooning you, a strong arm around your waist, legs tangled, and a wing draped over you.

I hope you like it. Requests are open.

#acotar #acotar series #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acosf #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster #feyre archeron #elain archeron #the morrigan #mor acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #amren

[sukaaxo]

does anyone else find the High Lords forgiving Rhys so quickly at the meeting but convinced Tamlin was evil as just a really ridiculous attempt by SJM to really reinforce Rhys as the ‘good guy’??

like let’s look at it from Prythians pov -

Rhys. the most feared High Lord. his court known for leaving no survivors. <500> years of known torturing and murdering anyone who crosses him. leaves dead bodies in peoples courts for the jokes. aligned with Amarantha nearly immediately and completed all the tasks she requested of him. was a bitch to everyone who came across him. literally kidnapped Feyre.

Tamlin. the High Lord who didn’t want the role. plays the fiddle with his people and allows them to roam around his manor. took in Lucien and other fae and gave them a home with no complaints nor compensation. never trusted Amarantha and told her he’d rather be with a human than her ass. spent years refusing to send his friends to their deaths and to force a human into his lands. sent said human home to save her even if it meant him having to be with Amarantha. refused to acknowledge said human when she went UTM so that she wouldn’t be harmed. killed Amarantha.

yet Rhys waltzes in, shows his wings and goes ‘lol it was all a lie guys, im acc a nice guy’ and the High Lords are all like ‘omg yes queen, hooray we love u’ but Tamlin goes to Hybern for 5 mins to save his fiancé and they’re like ‘ew he’s so evil, we hate him and will never forgive him’

lol ok

#lucien vanserra #acotar #tamlin #rhys acotar #rhysand #anti feyre #feyre acotar #feyre x tamlin #anti rhysand #night court #prythian

[simmanin]

my dislike for Feyre started when she went back to the Spring Court in ACOWAR and told them some made-up sob story about how horrible Rhysand was to her and insinuated that he committed horrible, ungodly crimes against her but then got mad when people believed her and was like “How DARE you think my mate is a horrible person 😡” like babe…let’s think a bit…

(also: i dont hate her, i just prefer pretty much everyone else over her at the moment lol)

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #feyre archeron #high lady feyre #spring court #tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #rhysand #anti rhysand #maasverse #sarah j maas #night court #feyre cursebreaker #rhys x feyre #feysand

[bunnyshideawayy]

i think the way male characters interact with each other over a woman says a lot about how they view said woman.

it’s clear here Rhysand is worried not only about the political ramifications but also personal ramifications Azriel’s clear LUSTING after Elain will cause.

its stated and made obvious multiple times throughout this chapter that Az is sexually attracted to Elain….and that’s it. His lust and desire and ENTITLEMENT is made so clear that Rhysand has to step in and reprimand him before it blows up in everyone’s face.

Elain is obviously infatuated with him, and Azriel is playing off of that to sleep with her and then what? he literally doesn’t know because he’s so blinded by lust and jealousy that his brothers have mates he cannot see past getting Elain naked. i believe it’s perfectly implied here he only sees Elian as a challenge, and should he ever get the chance to actually sleep with her he will no longer be equally as infatuated. He won’t even admit to himself he’s not over Mor.

I’m just pointing this out as many people seem to have skipped half of his chapter after seeing the word “arousal” and running with it. if you actually read the chapter as it is written it’s actually pretty gross to see people justifying Azriel’s behavior and mindset.

I personally don’t really care who Elain ends up with, if i wrote the story she’d stay single and living her best life baking and gardening and volunteering in the community but alas this is a romance at the end of the day. but i will not ignore clear implications from the story, Az sees her as a sexual pursuit. i can’t wait to see how the next acotar will play out and if gwyn will receive the necklace / wear it as it would prove to the readers and Elain my point was correct, hopefully not though the “OW” trope is so icky to me, but as i said it would add to my point. If Az truly liked Elain for Elain he wouldn’t back down from her or from Rhys (although this seems to be a problem for both Az and Cass) and he wouldn’t give this necklace he meant FOR* Elain to another woman on some random whim. I could go on and on but i’m so tired of seeing shippers justify and ignore this bs. Az shouldn’t be near any woman as long as he’s got this jealous and entitled mindset- Gwyn or Elain or whoever yall ship him with.

#been waiting to post this #acotar #nesta archeron #acosf #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #cc hofas #elain archeron #hofas #sjm books #sjm multiverse #elain acotar #elain x azriel #elain x lucien #elriel #elucriel #elucien #acofas #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #lucian venserra #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #nesta acosf #nesta acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand #azriel acosf

[fabulouslyflamboyant5]

The Unrighteous Knight Part 2

pairing: azriel x second archeron sister!reader

summary: After the events that occurred between Azriel and you, nothingness seems rather appealing. (Also some insight into readers past, and how becoming fae has affected them)

warning: su**ci*al thoughts, canon typical violence, nesta slander…inner circle slander?

word count: 1.3k

a/n: Sorry for delay, my drafts got deleted! This chapter is a little slow, but necessary for character development. Turns out, reader isn’t such a meek character after all…

Part One Part Two Part Three

To be, or not to be.

That is the question. The simple question, as mortals would insist. But what hold do the claws of mortality have upon an immortal being? How far must a cauldron made fae go to completely rid themselves of their humanity, with no guarantee that they will find solace in immortality?

Nowhere.

That is the answer, the simple answer your youngest sister and her dashing mate insist upon.

You must go nowhere, because simply put, the act of searching for serenity is sure to attract confusion.

But the answer is surely not so simple. Is nowhere not anywhere when you have been dragged to a land different from the one you’d grown to love?

The soil of Prythian feels foreign beneath your feet. Then again, your own skin feels foreign against your blood, which feels volatile within your soul.

Prythian, the continent home to Feyre Cursbreaker, Lady Death, and the most beautiful of the three sisters, Elain, cannot possibly be home to you, (y/n) Archeron, the sister who stands out for no reason other than her own lack of brilliance.

While the cauldron may have lent your younger sister the power of a seer, you were left with nothing.

Not brave enough to take it for yourself, you have come to terms with the fact that you are once again, left behind.

The forgotten sister. Perhaps that is what you are. What you always have been.

They insist that this is your home, that Velaris will bathe you in its light and rid you of your struggles. But you have found that you quite hate the light. It is darkness that you seek. It is nothingness you yearn for, the absence of everything in its entirety.

You try not to let these thoughts fester for too long.

Writing, for all you know, is the only way to remedy the situation. After all, it is considerably easier to distract yourself when you have something to look forward to.

Something that you enjoy.

Perhaps it is the nothingness within your leather bound notebook that brings you peace. The unfilled pages are not lonely, but instead, freeing.

The cruelty of your reality leaves no mark on the pages of your worn book. Nothingness, or in this case, fiction, is all that lines its pages.

Stories of the past, present, and future are maimed into something foreign. You are the narrator, you are the creator, you are in control.

Control.

That is your answer. Supplied by none other than yourself, of course.

It is control you seek. The ability to lead a life you choose, without ever having to bow down to forces external to your own psyche.

Forces beyond the harsh stare of Azriel, the Night Court's Shadowsinger, and the bane of your eternal existence.

In the many years you’ve known him, he has never failed to remind you just how deep his hate for you went. Like a raft sailing down an empty river, your efforts to mend your relationship are continuously shut down.

Not that any of it matters, not anymore.

The second his blade made contact with your abdomen you knew, just knew that the two of you would never make peace.

Even now, days since the incident, a phantom pain remains, pulsing within the thin scar below your left rib.

It’s frustrating really, how do you move on from something you never want to forget?

Staring down at the tea stained pages of your journal, you let the question linger.

A whole bunch of nothing.

That is the answer you arrive at.

It should be familiar now, this nothingness within you. This nothingness you embody.

Your sisters, bless them, will never grasp the emptiness that resides within you. But how could they, for all they know you appreciate solitude, find serenity in the freedom this world has provided you.

But it is not freedom you embody, it is loneliness; nothingness in its purest form.

“What is it exactly you are working on?” Nesta’s cool voice asks you. Had you not known her better, you’d surely mistaken her inquiry for judgment. But you do know her, so you send her a hum too weak to be mistaken for one of contentment and forbid your eyes from leaving the shadow filled paper below you.

“Nothing,” you are working on absolutely nothing.

Had you looked up, you would have seen the two cups of tea in her hands.

Had you looked up, you would have seen the sheer weight of determination resting on her shoulders.

Had you looked up, perhaps the shadows moving slowly across your hands would have stopped their movements and removed themselves from your proximity.

But alas, your eyes remain on the dark creatures, hoping, praying, that they leave the library and take your loneliness with them.

“I know what you're doing,” she spoke once more, clearly set on making her presence felt.

“And what may that be?”

“You’re overthinking,” she moves across the shelves, elegantly placing herself onto one of the cushioned chairs in front of you.

“I can assure you, that is not the case.” Nothing, that is what you are doing, and have been doing since you were forced upon this planet.

“Come back to the training ground tomorrow, I’d like for you to be there,” her voice is sincere but it is dissatisfaction that overtakes you. Of course that is what this is about. You’re foolish for assuming she had come here with the answers to the questions you seek.

“I’ll consider it,” you say dryly, reverting back to the page below you, noticing the shadows have seemingly disappeared.

Whether or not Nesta is satisfied with your response means nothing to you.

It means nothing, really.

Nothing does.

“I don’t think he meant it.” And so Lady Death strikes again. As is if her words tore open your jugular, you find yourself recoiling into the chair. Of course she would think that, it’s not as though she were present to witness the hatred in his eyes, the malice within him as he raised his sword, the eagerness of his actions against the vulnerability of your torso.

“Oh?” The paper crinkles under your tight fist, its sound serving as a reminder of your demeanor.

“He was wrong to do what he did. He hurt you and I hate him for that,” she halts, carefully thinking of what to say, “That said, I don’t believe he meant to hurt you. Had he known your skills in combat, I think the situation would have been avoided.”

It’s your fault really, you should have guessed as much. The path of wrongness will always lead back to you. You shouldn’t have expected Nesta, of all people, to see through the situation.

“I’ll see you on the training grounds before sunrise tomorrow, because from what I am gathering, I cannot trust anyone here to not kill me if I don’t refine my skills.”

For a moment, guilt can be found on the face of your sister, though it is quickly replaced by something akin to anger.

Looking as though she intends to say more, Nesta rises from her chair and makes her way towards you. You find comfort in this, it reminds you of home, or something that once was home.

“If you despise your life that much then perhaps it is best you leave.” Too far, she’d gone too far. In typical Nesta fashion, she expresses her guilt through absence. The two filled tea cups serve as the only indicator she had even been present.

This is on you, completely your fault. You dared to welcome presence into nothingness and allowed for tension to fester. How foolish you were.

So with that, you begin to write.

tags: @sidthedollface2 @marvelouslovely-barnes @impossibelle @chessebookgirl

#angst #fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #rhys #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #fluff #books #reading #azriel x reader angst #nesta #elain #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #feysand #cassian #amren #morrigan #mor #acotar x reader #sad

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1300+

Warnings: none I think, but let me know if there's something that should be listed

Part VIII | Part X

Rhysand wasn't particularly proud of himself and the way he appeared in front of his long lost sister and fetched her home, but rage blinded any common sense he had. Instead the instincts took over commanding him to protect. And so he did.

As soon as the decorated sitting room of his house appeared and his whole family stood up to welcome them, he felt better. A piece of his shattered heart healed and part of the weight on his shoulders fell off. However his relieve was short lived.

Still in his arms, Y/N took a fast look around, her eyes wide and full of fear, lips pressed together. A howl of agony left her as she bent over in waist. Her hands shot up and clenched into fists on her chest and with a sharp cry of pure pain she began falling.

Rhysand was shocked. So shocked he couldn't react nor breathe. He knew he had to do something, to catch her before she could hurt herself, but his body wouldn't move. Seconds stretched into minutes and he in horror watched it in a slow motion.

It was Azriel who moved forward, faster than anyone else, and caught her before she could hit her head. He cradled her against his broad chest and held her firmly as she trashed in pain, screaming, her eyes rolling back.

Mor, Amren and Cassian were there in a blink of eye, trying to help as much as they could.

"Rhysand," Azriel groaned through gritted teeth. Even though he was strong, he had trouble keeping her on place. "Do something! Help her!"

Rhysand inhaled sharply and forced his body to move. He squatted down, eyes scanning Y/N's body, looking for cause. He lost her once, he wouldn't allow it again.

Amren was holding his sister's hand, eyes gleaming in a dim light. She examined Y/N with remains of her powers. "She is under a strong binding spell. We don't have much time. It's killing her."

"Get out of my way," Rhysand barked and they immediately backed, making him enough space. He bent over Y/N trashing in Azriel's embrace. He squeezed her hand and put other hand on her forehead. His powers raised up as a wave around her petite body, searching and breaking whatever didn't belong there.

"I bet they didn't want her to leave that place," Amren murmured, watching them closely with narrowed eyes.

Y/N cried out one more time and her head fell to the side, body went limp. Everybody in the room tensed, eyes wide. Azriel's fingers immediately found her pulse point. Exhaling shakily he nodded. She was alive.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Cassian growled.

"Yeah, sure, dear. Go and sneeze him to death," More snorted, her trembling fingers played with strands of blonde hair. She was furious, too.

"I strongly doubt Tamlin knew who she is or anything about this," Lucien said coolly. All eyes turned to him. He stood behind them, arms crossed on his chest, brows furrowed.

"He certainly-," Cassian started, but Lucien stopped him.

"Think whatever you want, but Tamlin is nothing like his father or brothers. I spent decades with him, so I dare to say I know him better than anyone in this room. He cares about people whether they belong to Spring Court or no."

Feyre nodded in agreement.

"If he knew about her, he would provide her with much better accommodation and care, and he would see to it that she returned to her family as soon as possible," Lucien said firmly, gazing straight into Rhysand's eyes.

Rhysand looked back at him, jaw tightening, but he said nothing. After few moments he gently picked Y/N up in his arms.

"No one kills anyone. Rather bring Madja," he said calmly, taking his sister upstairs.

His family prepared a bedroom for her while he was gone. Placing Y/N on the bed with fresh smelling sheets, he wrapped blanket around her and holding her hand sat down next to her. He sighed heavily, watching her chest rising with shallow breaths.

Feyre silently came in and wrapped arms around his shoulders. Rhys gratefully leaned into the touch, his eyes never leaving unconscious female.

"I fucked it," he confessed quietly. "I should have been more careful.. I should have checked if there isn't anything holding her there. She was trying to say something to that bastard when I winnowed us.. I should have heard her out.. I almost got her killed." Rhys ran fingers through his dark silky hair and let out another heavy sigh.

"You couldn't have known they cast a spell on her. Thankfully you broke it in time. She will be okay," she whispered to him placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I know," he whispered back. "It's just.. For centuries I thought she was dead.. It's hard to believe she is really here.."

"Now she is back home. Safe. Once she wakes up everything will be alright."

"I hope so, but I feel like it isn't over yet. I thought that she would be happy to see me.. that she would run to me with big smile as she used to, but instead.. she looked at me as if I was a complete stranger to her. If only I knew what happened that night," he breathed out shakily, resting his head on Feyre's shoulder.

Feyre was about to say something when Azriel appeared in the middle of the room with the old healer. Rhysand stood up making a space for her and Madja immediately went to work. She carefully examined young female on the bed while Rhysand squeezing Feyre's hand and Azriel watched her, waiting for the results.

"There's no injury I could treat. She is perfectly fine," Madja said when she finished. "I believe she just needs good rest. She may be confused when she wakes up, so take it slowly and try to not overwhelm her."

There was something in her expression that made Rhysand frown with worry. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Well," Madja looked at him. "I tried to examine her head. There is kind of barrier that won't let me in. However I found traces of quite an old trauma. It has no impact on her current health, but it may be affecting her memory. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it. It's too old injury that was already treated. And as for the memory, I believe this is more your field of expertise, High Lord, isn't it."

She handed him small pouch of herbs. "When she will be stressed, make her this tea," she said and left. Feyre followed her, giving him a tight smile.

Azriel stood there, gazing at sleeping female. "It's really her, isn't it," he murmured. His face was as usually emotionless, but Rhys knew him too well. He noticed a thin layer of silver in Shadowsinger's eyes. One corner of his lips lifted up in tight, but amused smirk.

"You still love her." It wasn't question, but Azriel nodded anyway.

"Never stopped," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't forget her even thought she was gone. Seeing her now.." He slowly shook head, his eyes searching her pale face. "It's like a dream. I had to pinch myself to be sure I'm awake."

"I can't believe it myself, too," Rhysand said. "But there's no doubt. She is my sister. Never forget it." He arched an eyebrow on his brother.

"How could I," Azriel snorted, corners of his lips lifted into a smile. "You've never missed a chance to remind me about it. And just as I've already told you so many times before: I'd rather die than to hurt her."

"You better to keep it in your mind. She just returned to me. I won't let her go again easily," Rhysand said half jokingly.

"Don't worry, I won't forget."

They stood there in silence, watching sleeping Y/N for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86

#tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar #rhysand fanart #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand #english isnt my first language #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #cassian acotar #morrigan #amren #feyre archeron #feyre #lucien acotar

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part One

Summary - As the ways of the world shift, you find yourself torn between those who have always cared for you and the life you feel like you were made to live.

Warnings - none right now really, some angst, harmless flirting, tension, slight fluff, mention of wing loss

Hauntingly beautiful was one of the few ways to describe the High Lord Eris Vanserra.

There was a rake-ish look about him, like he belonged in one of Nesta's regency era romance novels that had her eyes widened and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It was rather infuriating.

Tension continued to linger, one of doubtful trust. Rhys wanted to trust Eris, he wanted to trust that the new High Lord of Autumn knew what he was doing, but something was stopping your brother from investing into the change fully and you weren't quite sure what.

Eris sat opposite you in the meeting chamber, eyes trailing down your figure approvingly, a crown of golden leaves dipping to his brow and accentuating those russet eyes that always sought to burn you with their intense glare. It had been strictly forbidden for you to leave Velaris on your own after what had happened to your elder sister at the hands of Tamlin, you understood it of course, Rhys wouldn't survive if he lost you too, his youngest sibling but by far the fiercest creature in all of Prythian's history.

War was scoured into your bones, hellfire raged in your soul, and you were very well known for your tactical prowess and outspoken nature, from your quick wit to your dry humour. Some said that you were the reason that Prythian still stood, you had worked very hard to undermine Amarantha right under her nose, feigning innocence and naivety that she drank from like a fountain of youth, you had been instrumental in the war against Hybern too, and Eris had watched in stoic awe as you wielded your sword like it was an extension of yourself, gracefully cutting down your victims and using your power to decimate hoards of males into ash.

Eris wouldn't admit it, certainly not in front of Rhysand and Cassian who made it his mission to keep Eris as far away from you as possible, but he thought that you were the most incredible thing he had ever witnessed. And as you sat before him, draped in a sheer black dress adorned with white crystals that allowed him to relish at the picture of your full breasts, it was taking him a lot of will power to not fling you on that table and take you right there and then, even if your brother was watching, he didn't care.

The meeting was simple, Rhys wanted to know how the politics between the courts were to improve with Eris now at the helm and steering the Autumn Court ship. Feyre sat to the left of your brother, dressed in her usual ethereal pale blue, another garment made by your mother, but less impressive than the items you owned. You sat to his right with Azriel to your side, Mor, Cassian and Nesta occupied the seats to Feyre's left in that order, and Lucien lingered somewhere between, still on the side of the Night Court, put just an arms length away from his brother.

Eris was stoic and cruel, power radiated from him, but you seemed the be the only one who saw what lingered beneath that façade. The occasional split second glance he would direct to Lucien when he thought no one was watching, one full of regret and sadness. It seemed that there were many more layers to Eris Vanserra than any of you realised.

"How do we know that you won't rule like your father did?" Rhys had craned forward in his seat, his jet black crown glistening in the darkening sunlight that poured down through the domed windows.

Eris' jaw ticked, a clearly sensitive subject for him, your chin dipped in examination and for a moment, he glanced to you, fire in his eyes that mirrored the very faint sphere of orange that curled around pupils, "Would I have bothered to overthrow him to only rule like him?" Eris replied with his own question and you felt Mor scoff from where you sat, your older cousin not enjoying the sentiment one bit.

"Who knows what you males strive for," Mor bit, more like growled, at him, you face remained distant and cold, you didn't remove your gaze from him, everyone knew that they couldn't hide from you, you were too observant.

Guilt had swirled in your gut at the sight of him, under examination by a group of people he longed to be somewhat friendly with, to work with to better the lives of his people, and Velaris was rich in knowledge and power, it was a court that you would want on your side if you walked a second in his shoes.

It wasn't often, if at all, that you would speak at meetings, it was an unspoken rule for you to be seen and not heard, your presence was powerful enough, and you did have the knack for making things worse with your jabbing words, "Raise your hand if your father is a piece of shit," the room fell silent, and Azriel had his head dipped low to conceal his smirk, his knee nudging yours gently in warning.

Slowly you raised your hand and looked to Rhys who rolled his eyes, but didn't raise his own, he didn't want to indulge you. In turn, Cassian raised his hand, Azriel lifted a finger as did Mor, Lucien's hand raised with his elbow still firmly plastered on the arm of his chair, and Eris didn't dare partake, but you all knew his answer already. Counting under your breath at the souls that had answered your call, you relaxed into your seat, "I don't know about you Rhys but I don't think you're anything like our dear old dad. Mor is nothing like hers, nor is Cassian or Azriel or Lucien. If we were all held accountable for the actions of our fathers then we surely would live in the most tyrannical world possible, no?"

Rhys raked down the iron clad walls of your mind and you gave him a pointed look, refusing him entry and smirking at the twitch that pulled at the corner of his lip, "There is no evidence that Eris will be like Beron, and refusing him alliance only makes such possibilities more likely," you picked at an invisible thread of your sheer black garment and feathered your fingers down the bargain tattoo that curled around your upper arm, one that matched the mark Azriel bore in the same place from a stupid bargain you had made what felt like eons ago.

"In simple terms, brother," you fluttered your eyelashes at him, ignoring his clear fury, "Get over yourself and give it a chance. Prythian can't be a land of harmony when males with big egos can't see the opportunity before them."

Feyre had confined herself to looking at the wall, shifting uncomfortably at the colliding forces of power between you and her mate. It was never something she had the courage to stand between, she'd perish if she even tried. Nesta was smirking at you, the only one who would hold Rhys accountable and live to see another day, relishing in the fury of the High Lord.

Another nudge prodded into your thigh and you snapped your gaze to Azriel, "Will you stop nudging me?" You swatted at his thigh, "This world has been through enough already, Amarantha, Hybern, Koschei... It's time that we made a world to be proud of and we can only do that if we work together."

"Who knew that the fawn had a voice?" Eris spoke and you sent him a satisfied grin, Rhys looked to the High Lord and snarled at the name he had dared to direct to you, but quickly composed himself with a warning glace to you that meant he would deal with you later.

Matching is tone, you teased, "Thank you. My campaign for High Lady is imminent," Cassian let out an audible low chuckle, his shoulders shaking next to Nesta who was doing her best to contain the amused smile that fought its way onto her lips.

Typical y/n.

Looking to Rhys, you smiled and waiting expectantly, he seethed out his answer, "Fine," he moved his attention to Eris who was still smirking at you, eyes blazing with curiosity, "We will work with you, Eris. Let's call this the start of a long lasting alliance between our courts," Rhys rose to his feet, "Please feel free to stay the evening and join us for dinner. I will have a room prepared for you."

An olive branch, one that made you avert your gaze to Eris to see him nod in shocked agreement.

Rhys lowered himself so that his head lingered by your ear, his fingers curled around the back of your chair, and he growled, "My office. Now."

A chill slithered down your spine and you smiled thinly at no one in particular before rising from your seat and following Rhys from the room. The pair of you didn't utter a single word as he led you through the halls of the House of Wind, walls that seemed to shrink away from your pulsating energies as he led you to his office and shut the door behind your entrance.

"What in the name of the Mother do you think you're doing?" Rhys seethed as he rounded your smaller figure, towering over you to the point that he shrouded you in the shadow of his figure and flexing wings.

With a raised brow, you spoke calmly, "I highly suggest you take a step back and stop trying to intimidate me," his gaze softened slightly and he obeyed you, stuttering back a couple of feet and tucking his wings out of sight.

"Eris is not someone that we should have an alliance with," he leaned against his desk and watched as you turned around, lifting the heavy glass lid to his whisky decanter and pouring two glasses of the amber liquid before extending one out to him which he took without question.

You waited until he had taken a sip before talking, "Regardless of what you think, you know I'm right," you took the seat opposite the desk and nestled into the deep brown cushions, leaving him standing before you, "Rhys, you wear a mask to the rest of the world, in everywhere other than Velaris. Cauldron, you even make us follow suit. Has it ever entered your limited mind that Eris may do the same, that he too is hiding behind the mask he has created for himself?"

Rhys frowned, "Did you just call me stupid?"

Scoffing, you sipped the amber liquid and enjoyed the delicious burn that sank down your throat, "All you're doing is proving my point."

Rhys threw his head back and inhaled deeply, clenching his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know that I love you," he lowered his gaze to wash over you, but you didn't falter, you had never faltered under Rhys' glare, you were perhaps the only one who wasn't impacted by it, "You have to understand that I will always do what is right to protect our home, to protect you."

"And you have to understand that I will always do what is right to better the continent, not just our people."

The relationship between you and Rhys was a complicated one. There was a lot of love and respect between you, but his fear of losing you often clouded his mind. His word was law, but your word was the final judgement. The reckoning. There was nothing even he could do to change that.

Many males had attempted to get close to you, but none were good enough to appease the expectations of the High Lord of the Night Court. It wasn't as if you cared. You required an equal, someone who wouldn't diminish your power, and males had the tendency to attempt to control you.

Rhys had even refused your hand to Helion, much to your disappointment, and before the acts that led to the demise of your sister, he had refused to extend a thought to Tamlin who had clearly been besotted with you. Thank the cauldron for that at least.

"You have a strong will, y/n," a backhanded compliment if you had ever heard one, you rose from your seat and placed your empty glass on the bare surface to his left, "It will get you in trouble."

"Good. I can't wait."

Leaving Rhys alone in his office had filled you with far too much smugness and serenity.

The golden tainted pink hue from the sunset poured through the large windows, trickling up the walls and coating your skin in its soft shimmer as you paced before them.

Black fabric chased after your steps from your dress sweeping in the breeze you had created in your movements, you could feel the comfort of your chambers, you could almost taste it as you rounded the corner and entered the room without a second thought.

The familiar skitter of cool kisses swirled around your ankles and you didn't need to look up to see who was splayed across your cream comforter, "I know what you're going to say," you disappeared behind the thin clouded dressing screen and peeled your dress from your body, rifling through the railing full of ornate pieces whilst Azriel examined your silhouette from his place on your bed.

"Then I don't need to tell you how stupid you are," you looked over your shoulder at his words, like he could see your expression which was one of confusion and annoyance, "I swear you get more defiant each day."

Peeking your head around the corner of the screen, displaying your face and shoulder to him, you spoke, "It's the only exciting thing I have to do around here."

Azriel quirked a brow to you, his shadows dancing around his shoulders at the sound of your voice, "That's not true," you scoffed at his words and disappeared back behind the screen, continuing on your quest to find a dress for dinner, "There are plenty of things to keep you entertained in Velaris."

"Azriel," you deadpanned, not stopping your movements in plucking dressed from the railing and holding them up to your body, "Rhys doesn't let me do anything other than train and sit and look pretty and intimidating. I'm Velaris' glorified trophy."

A particular garment caught your eye and you smirked, taking it from its hanger and pulling it up your form. It was a stunning piece, one you rarely wore. An ornate solid gold bodice of blooming roses and ivy that connected to a red wine skirt that possessed a high slit, cream lace poked from the highest point of the slit and kissed your thigh.

"That's not true. He let you fight against Hybern," Azriel told you pointedly, seemingly becoming lost for words when you stepped from the screen and soothed down the skirt of the dress before bending down to secure golden heeled sandals to your feet.

"I fought against Hybern because there was no choice to do anything but that," you hadn't spared the Shadowsinger a glance but smiled softly at the shadows that curled lovingly around your ankles, you held two sets of earrings up to your ears and tilted your head in the mirror, "I'm sure if there was an option to stay home then Rhys would have gladly assigned the position to me."

Azriel rose from the bed, moving behind you and resting his hands on your hips, his hazel eyes boring into your reflection, "He worries about losing you. He couldn't stop what happened to your mother and sister, I think he just wants to be able to stop anything from happening to you," Azriel smiled at you and your orange ringed violet eyes softened at him, "Wear the red ones, they match the skirt."

"Thanks, Az," he hummed in response and took a step back, the place where his hands once lay turning cold and begging for more, "Shall we go to dinner then? What an exciting evening we have ahead of us," Azriel chuckled and offered his arm to you which you gladly took, allowing him to pull you from the room.

There was an unspoken attachment between you and Azriel, like it could be something more if you were both willing to risk your already perfect relationship on the notion of it. You both knew that feelings lingered, but if Rhys ever found out it would surely cause a civil war within your family, and you'd hate to think where everyone would stand in that battle.

The dining room had been beautifully dressed, a black tablecloth and tall golden candles, gold plates and coated silverware, ornate but expensive goblets and an array of blood red and orange flowers, no doubt a nod from Feyre of respect toward Eris.

Azriel left you at your usual seat with a subtle squeeze of the hand before rounding the table and taking his spot opposite you, scuffing the chair against the stone and sitting in it as you did in yours. Family members trailed in one by one, Nesta took her seat beside you and Cassian sat to her left, Mor took the spot beside Azriel and Elain took the other, then Amren entered, then Rhys and Feyre, the former of which nestled into his spot at the head of the table.

Then Lucien and Eris entered, and the High Lord eyed the last two remaining spaces, the one at the head of the table opposite Rhys or the one next to you, and Eris strode beyond his brother to steal that option. He teetered at the edge of it and peered down on you questioningly, "May I?"

Feeling Rhys' eye on you that you didn't dare to acknowledge, you nodded gently, "Of course," he took your answer in the palm of his hand and used it to pull the chair out, his scent of mulled wine, candied orange and pine filling your lungs as he sat.

Eris was dressed well, a red waistcoat adorned with golden swirls, a cream shirt that was tucked into the waistband of his black pants, like he knew to match your own attire, something that not only you noticed.

Idly, decanters of wine floated about the space, pouring themselves into the empty goblets placed at every seat, and food began to appear, dish by dish, on the long table. Platters of roasted vegetables, silver dishes piled with meats, bowls of fresh salads, boats of sauces, and most importantly, towers of desserts that made your eyes glisten, wanting to skip the main course entirely and help yourself to a slice of cake.

Clearing his throat, Rhys raised his goblet, tearing you from your salivating thoughts, "A toast," he smiled thinly at Feyre whose gaze shifted to you and then to the male at your side, "To new alliances."

The room repeated the sentiment before digging in, doing their best to ignore the swirling tension caused by Eris choosing to spend the evening sat beside you. Though, that soon vanished when Cassian started telling his many tales of his escapades throughout the years with the intermittent corrections from Rhys and Azriel.

"I should thank you," a low voice spoke from your right and you craned your head toward Eris, his hypnotising russet orbs were fixated on you, dark and full of wonder as they raked over your face, "For what you said at the meeting. I hope you weren't scolded for helping my cause."

Eris' voice was low, only loud enough for you to hear and you alone, his eyes were soft and stare void of that stoic cold that usually possessed it. He looked like a completely different person, there was actually kindness bubbling within him, genuine sincerity in his words.

"Rhys can scold me all he wants, it'll never change anything," you replied in the same tone, the orange ring in your eyes burning like wildfire, "Anyhow, it's a cause worth supporting."

From the corner of your eye, you caught Lucien watching you with intrigue, his fingers encased with Elain's atop the table with a knowing glitter lingering in his expression, he grinned as his brother spoke and leaned toward Elain to whisper something beyond your realm of hearing, "I can't remember the last time I saw you before Hybern."

Smirking, you asked, "Have you been thinking about me, High Lord?"

"It's not hard to," he replied honestly, watching the faint blush creep up your cheeks, "When was the last time?"

Humming, you thought about it, it wasn't often you actually left the confinements of Velaris thanks to your brother's protective antics, your eyes glazed over slightly, "It was Under The Mountain, at the beginning, after she," you rolled you shoulders, coiling them in the memory of that night.

That's right, the last time he had seen you before the war had been the night after Amarantha had stripped your wings from your body, carving them off with her talons to punish Rhys' reluctance. It had taken everything within Eris to not set her alight on the spot, if he could have, after he had seen your shaking pale form wandering the halls like a ghost.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's fine," you insisted, sighing deeply, "It's a fading memory now, I've adjusted well."

"I'm glad to hear it," the genuine tone to him was confusing, but you always knew there more to him than what met the eye, and part of you was proud to have been correct about it.

Eris had grown up listening to the stories about you and Rhys, two formidable winged warriors that exuded darkness and power, who held the capacity in their fingers to shatter kingdoms if they so wished it.

It didn't scare him. You had never scared him actually.

"Make the most of this alliance, Eris. It's very rare that I speak up on such matters," you told him, sipping from the wine in your cup and placing it back onto the tabletop under Rhys' watchful gaze.

There was an elegance about you, Eris noticed, the poised shoulders and perfectly slender pointed ears, the violet eyes with the speckles of Autumn orange, the grace laced in your words. It was a spectacular thing to witness up close.

"Then why did you?"

There was a moment of contemplation and you furrowed your brow in thought, "I can't sit by and be part of the reason why people suffer," very unlike Rhys, "Other than that," you trailed off, looking deep into his eyes like your violet pools were drowning in his soul, "I'm not quite sure."

Author's Note

Part one to the series I've been planning for awhile.

Prepare yourselves for a pining, needy slow burn with a hint of forbidden love x

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

[thehighladywrites]

Random texts with the acotar characters

summary: random texts w them

warnings: nsfw, suggestiveness, crack

amara’s note: idk tbh i’m just here for the vibes

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #eris vanserra #azriel #azriel acotar #feyre archeron x reader #cassian x reader #eris vanserra acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #rhys x you #rhysand a court of thorns and roses #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #nesta x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron #elain archeron x reader #elain archeron #azriel fluff #acotar smau #cassian imagine

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Do Your Worst

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

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

Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)

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

Image Credit: Pinterest

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can take a break–” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me!” She croaked. 

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

“Are you alright?”

“Get her some water!”

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

“... My love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s bothering you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted. 

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

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

“I don’t need your help.”

“You definitely do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel.

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

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

Your favorite. Was all the note said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's wrong?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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